Star

Chapter 19- The Painful Tale of Obaledo

It was midnight now as they cruised through the Lagos roads that bustled with energy even when the sun had gown down and the night had come out to play.

They were on their way to get the Words of Obaledo and Coal seemed especially in a bad mood, but, when didn't he? His grip on the steering was tight as he clutched and turned.

Star just looked at the windshield as lampposts flashed by them and she searched her heart.

She didn't hate him.

And that hit her like a moving truck. He did horrible things to her and her mother. He hurt her for years and she had to practise putting makeup to hide the bruises, to hide the cuts. There were days, weeks, in the rainy season that her mother wore thick sunglasses.

He made her feel ugly, and fat and unloved. But after all that, after all that, there was still some part of her that remembered the times he'd come to the room and he'd read to her when her mother was asleep.

When she was young and still afraid of the dark, he had brought her in to sleep in the bed with him and her mother. He had sung her to sleep that night. His voice wasn't the best, and there were moments when he'd forget the lyrics and mumble his way through, but he sung it beautifully, a song about Jesus on one of his travels, and she'd drifted to sleep that night, holding her father's side as he stroked her hair...

"Are you listening?" Coal prodded and Star jolted up.

"Yeah, yeah," she said. "I'm here, I'm listening."

Coal glanced at her. "You were dozing off."

"I wasn't," Star glared back.

"You were," Coal said.

"I was not."

"I saw you," he said, "with my own eyes."

Star folded her arms. "Well, you saw wrong."

"But, how—"

"You were saying something before."

Coal sighed and shook his head, slowing down the car. "I was telling you to be cautious and not to trust whatever you saw. And, again, do not, tell her your name."

"Tell who?" Star asked as Coal parked the car near a street corner, unclasping his seat belt.

"You'll see," he said, getting out of the car. Star rolled her eyes, undid her belt, and followed him. He was standing there, waiting and locked the doors with the key as he turned and started walking towards the bridge.

"You just love being dramatic, don't you?" Star said, and Coal shrugged, but there was a small smile there as he continued walking towards the bridge.

"We're walking to the bridge?" Star groaned. "Why didn't we just drive. Third mainland is long."

"Really?" He said. "I didn't know. Wow, you don't say."

Star glared and Coal rolled his eyes. "She'll sense them if we get too near, the ingredients. She'll taste it in the air and then we'll have a problem on our hands." Coal looked at her, "and now, you're about to ask who Obaledo is."

Star's shoulders dropped. "Yes."

They crossed the road, narrowly avoiding cars as they got on the pavement and began walking. Star's hands were on the railing and she was looking at the water. Coal walked straight, his hands in his pocket.

They walked in silence for a few moments before Coal finally spoke, his voice was dark. "She lived in a small village, around the east, maybe two, three hundred years ago."