Nnedi Okorafor - Lagoon

When Chris turned around, he was staring at himself.

Adaora opened her mouth in utter astonishment, nearly forgetting to breathe.

“CHRIS!” Ayodele said. Her voice was identical to Chris’s, as was her physique. Not only did she look like him, she was even wearing the same wrinkled shorts and singlet.

“Jesus,” Adaora whispered. She stepped forward and grabbed Agu’s arm and pulled him away. Anthony sucked his teeth at the ridiculousness of it all.

Chris’s mouth hung open. He shook his head and blinked his eyes.

“Blame me,” Ayodele said. “Your wife is just trying to help. Calm yourself. Think .”

There was a long pause as Chris stared at Ayodele. Then deep in his chest, he moaned and touched his own face with a shaky hand. He stepped back, then snapped around, turning a wild gaze on Adaora. He jabbed a finger at her. “You’ve poisoned me! Witch! I knew it! I am hallucinating because you’ve poisoned my body, o!” He took more steps back. “I shower my wife with everything she wants, only to realize I’ve fed the devil!” He stumbled toward the stairs. “Marine witch, o!” he wailed, pointing and pointing at her. “ Amusu! I knew it! I knew it! Jesus Christ will send you back to hell, o! God will punish you! In the name of Jesus and the Holy Spirit!” He turned and fled up the stairs.

Adaora squeezed her eyes shut as she heard Ayodele change back. She’d heard the sound several times now, first in the water and now in her own home. In both places it somehow sounded the same. Absolutely foreign. So foreign, that hearing it made her feel like falling to the floor. She plopped down in the chair beside her computer.

“Your husband?” Agu asked, as he dabbed the cut on his forehead with his fingers. It had started bleeding again.

“He works too hard and he’s been fasting,” she said. “It makes him a little…”

“That man does not love you,” Anthony muttered.

Silence.

“You people are very interesting,” Ayodele said, smiling.

Chris shut his eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the warm night air. Dirty Lagos air. So different from the air he’d breathed during his three-year stay in Germany for his MBA. He coughed. Since he’d begun fasting, he had to admit, he just hadn’t felt right. He knew it was the witchcraft his wife had worked on him rebelling against his cleansing efforts. He had to keep fasting. Eventually it would all get better, he’d be free of her grasp and he’d be back in control of his life and his wife. Maybe.

He sat staring at the wrought-iron black gate that surrounded Father Oke’s home, waiting. It was a solid gate built into a solid thick white wall that surrounded a magnificent compound. The fence around Chris’s home was only wrought iron, so passers-by could see into the compound if they were nosy. He and his conniving wife Adaora did very well, but even they could not afford to build and maintain this kind of wall, not while building and maintaining the house itself.

On both sides of the wall were tiny houses where most likely ten times as many people lived. Poor people. These homes were surrounded by walls, too, though the walls were really just the walls of the much larger home boxing them in. Lagos is like a big zoo , Chris thought to himself. Everyone is contained by lots of walls and lots of gates, whether you like it or not. It’s secure but there is no security.

He rubbed his red eyes as Father Oke slowly opened the gate. The man looked tired but this was urgent. Such things warranted waking even a holy man in the middle of the night. Still, Chris was apologetic. “I’m so, so sorry to wake you, but…” He couldn’t hold it in any more. He wheezed and sobbed, leaning heavily on Father Oke’s shoulder. He was too taken by his own emotions to notice the look of deep annoyance pass over Father Oke’s face.

“My wife… my… my… I don’t know where else to go,” Chris moaned into Father Oke’s nightshirt.

Father Oke patted Chris’s back and firmly pushed him backwards. “What has happened?” he asked. He glanced with disgust at his shoulder, which was damp with Chris’s tears. “You… you haven’t done anything, have you?”

“No, no. Not me. I…”

Father Oke sighed with relief. “Come in, come in,” he said. “Let us talk inside.”

“Thank you, Father,” Chris said as they walked between Father Oke’s Mercedes and his BMW. Father Oke frowned as Chris passed a little too close to the BMW. He’d managed to keep the vehicle in perfect shape despite the Lagos roads and he was not about to let this desperate idiot scratch it.

Chris and Father Oke sat across from each other on leather chairs. A bleary-eyed young woman in sleepwear came into the room with a bottle of red wine. Chris eyed the glass she poured for him, wondering if this would interfere with his fasting/purging of his wife’s witchcraft.

“Relax, Chris,” Father Oke said, seeming to read his thoughts. They watched the woman leave the room. “It will affect nothing. Wine is the beverage of Jesus. It can only do good.”

Chris nodded, bringing the glass to his lips. His hand shook as he sipped.

“Well, Chris,” Father Oke said. “What did you expect when you married a woman ocean biologist?”

“But she and I have known each other since we were small children ,” Chris said. “Our fathers were best friends …”

Father Oke shook his head, putting his wine down and leaning forward. He had a pained look on his face, as if he carried a great burden on his shoulders. “Look, Brother Chris, women are… weak vessels. It is identified in the Bible. Your Adaora is a highly educated biologist but she’s no different from the others. She could not change herself if she tried.” He chuckled and sipped his wine. Then he laughed loudly. “ Kai ! But your wife is a tough one, o!”

“You really think she’s a witch?” Chris asked.

“I do, Brother Chris,” he said. “A marine witch, the worst kind. Look at her knowledge of the water. But don’t worry, no shaking, o,” he said, chuckling. “My church is powerful. It is my job to handle such things.”

Chris sipped his wine, his hand still shaking. It left his mouth sour. “Good, because tonight she did something to me. I was trying to subdue her and suddenly I could not move! I was pinned to the floor like a goat for sacrifice!”

Father Oke frowned, but said nothing.

“Eh heh,” Chris said, nodding and taking Father Oke’s silence to mean he believed him. “And let me tell you what else. Only an hour ago, I came downstairs to her witch’s den and found my wife with two strange men!” he said. “TWO! And there was… there was another. Another witch! She changed right before my eyes!”

“Eh, Brother Chris, slow down,” Father Oke said, trying hard not to laugh at this sorry lamb of his flock. “It is imperative to fast, to purge your wife’s witchcraft from your body. But you’ve been fasting so much, of late, and… perhaps you are not seeing what you think you’re seeing?”

“I know what I saw, Father,” Chris insisted. “This woman changed into ME! I can take you there right now! I can—”

“Relax, Brother Chris,” Father Oke chuckled. “It’s late.” He sighed. “OK, if your wife has brought another witch into your household, best to wait for daylight. I will come tomorrow.”

“But…”

Father Oke made the sign of the cross. This always calmed his parishioners down. Now was no exception. Chris instantly quieted and relaxed. “Trust in the Lord, Brother Chris,” Father Oke said soothingly. “All will be well in due time, eh? Meantime, pursue peace with your wife. Avoid the appearance of contention; women thrive on that. Do not fall for her antics. Look to Jesu Kristi who asked us to turn the other cheek. Go home. Go to bed. I will see you tomorrow.”