Irenosen Okojie - Butterfly Fish

It happened accidentally. Not that you could follow somebody by accident but Sully had not planned it. He had been scouting for trails out of the kingdom; one because he enjoyed it and two, it was always better to be prepared. He was mentally mapping his latest route which began from the back of the soldiers’ quarters, then wound behind the long, dusty new road which had delivered him to the palace gates that fateful day. He was chewing kola nuts, savouring their slightly bitter taste when he spotted a familiar looking, slender young woman darting past, wrapper hiked up and what looked like a broken wooden spear in her hand.

Quick on her feet, she turned occasionally to look around. He paused behind an Iroko tree, recognising the king’s youngest wife. Good grief , he thought. What on earth is that creature up to? How had she managed to slip out of the palace unnoticed and more importantly, how did she do so with that spear in her possession? He chuckled at the thought, waiting for some distance between them before emerging to pursue her discreetly. She headed in the direction of the river, humming to herself, elated at the feeling of freedom. Dust tongues of quiet Gods stilled. Footsteps of hidden creatures with stones in their mouths rustled crinkled leaves. The heat was punishing. Sully’s skin had browned somewhat since arriving in Benin but it still burned now and again.

As he watched Adesua weaving between trees, he spotted the tell tale signs on his chest, a patch that looked like a small red sky crawling up his skin. Damned heat , he murmured. Thank goodness he had worn his large brimmed brown hat. The mosquitoes liked to feed on him too but he had managed to resolve that problem somewhat in his living quarters, having put up grey netting all around to keep the little buggers out. He had adapted to his surroundings. The way he always did. He could never really blend in but he had picked up some of the customs and habits of the kingdom that endeared him a little to some people.

In the mornings, he walked around with a chewing stick dangling from the corner of his mouth, he had fashioned a piece of orange traditional cloth the king’s tailor had given him into a handkerchief which he tucked into his shirt pocket. He ate their delicious food with gusto and quietly observed the kingdom with a keen eye as people continued to gossip about the white man who had charmed his way into the palace. He had found himself coming to this particular river several times because it was out of the way. Hidden behind a wall of forest, an untrained eye could easily pass it without realising what was there. So she liked it there too , he thought, warmed by the idea.

At the river, he loitered behind a stack of rocks. She was knee deep in the water, spear in hand, head bent in concentration before lunging at movements below the surface. He watched a few more of her spirited, unsuccessful attempts. Charmed, he uncurled his lean body. Slowly approaching, he whistled. “Why that’s the best fishing technique I’ve seen in Africa.”

Adesua dropped the spear. She had been concentrating so deeply, she barely heard him coming. Either that or he was good at catching people off guard.

“Oh. It is you. Should you not be following my husband around?” she spat.

“Shouldn’t you?” he asked, giving her an amused look. “You must be the least enamoured bride I have come across.”

To her horror, he took off his boots and began to roll his trousers up, exposing tanned well-defined bow legs lightly covered with fine brown hairs.

“No, what are you doing?” She held the spear up, aiming it at his moving chest.

“Easy,” he chuckled, barely breaking stride. “You’re not going to use that thing on me are you?” The water felt cool on his limbs. If she had not been there, he would have stripped and taken a dip naked. The devilish part of him almost suggested it. Barely a hair’s breadth away, he wrapped his hand around hers, gently prying the spear out of it. “I’m your husband’s guest. Do you not think you could bring yourself to be more hospitable than aiming a weapon at me?”

He thought he saw a flicker of shame in her expression but it vanished quickly. The water rippled, mouths of fish glimmered seductively below and the afternoon light threatened to bend things to its will. The air between them crackled. He could almost hear the flutter in her long, elegant neck. He knew that flutter could catch things; a bright neon fish scale, the frayed thread on the inside of his trousers, the cut on his jaw he had given himself shaving with his pocket knife three days earlier. He knew if he ran his finger over that flutter the skin would be soft, the shape unpredictable, that he would remember the contours days later.

The catapult in his left pocket was firing a series of jagged objects at an entrance Adesua did not know she had.

“Why do you wear that annoying hat?” She asked suddenly, breaking the tension.

“Oh, this offensive thing?” He answered, giving a half smile and pointing at it. “To protect me from the kingdom’s curses.”

“You are mocking me!” she exclaimed, wiping a trickle of water from her forehead.

“Come here.” He instructed. “I want to show you something.” He grabbed hold of her hand. She jerked it back, a scowl on her face. “How dare you? I am one of the Oba’s brides. You show no respect. I could report you to the Oba for that, have you flogged, made an example of.”

A tight expression appeared on his face, as if he was considering throttling her. He laughed instead, taking her hand again. “Come and I’ll help you catch a fish,” he said softly.

He led her to the bank where the water gently lapped at scattered stones. They sat down. He took the hat off, turning it in his hands. “You see this hat? I negotiated with a Chinaman on a ship for it, gave him my pipe in return. Was compelled to at the time, couldn’t understand why.”

He placed the hat on her head, tugging it down firmly. “There. You look like a modern young woman. What a picture.”

She put her hand on her head uncertainly and her lips curved realising it provided shade.

“See?” Sully continued. “Not so bad after all.”

She touched a braid poking out, rubbing the kinky hair that had somehow partially unravelled. “Why are you in Benin?” she asked, slapping away the fly she had one eye on, listening to the soft trickle of water, the gentle crackling of the surrounding bush. He turned foreign, cool green eyes at her. “Why is anybody in Benin? I’m a man of adventure. My travels led me here. I have to tell you, that hat looks much better on you than it did on the Chinaman, beautifully turned out fellow that he was. He looked like an Emperor, gave me opium too. I never did ask him how he got the hat.”

Adesua did not know who a “Chinaman” was or what “turned out” meant or what “opium” was. Some kind of seasoning for food maybe? She did not ask for fear of appearing ignorant. She knew this shifty stranger would add it to his arsenal of weapons, using it against her when she least expected. She took those funny sayings to be yet more unusual things from this strange man with the crooked smile and unsettling ways.

Later when they caught the silvery fish, Adesua was struck by how quick Sully was, striking with the spear while she was still trying to follow its movements. He made her hold it down on the riverbank. It felt cool and smooth, a watery distance shrunk in its gaze. He tied it with some string. “For the palace cook! When you eat this tonight, you’ll remember our time here,” he said, holding it up.

On the way back, she kept the hat on to stay cool, following his lead, his easy manner. He whistled, occasionally peppering their silence with bits of information about the forest’s inhabitants; ladybirds, lizards, snakes, throwing curious, loaded looks her way. A molten heat began to spread through her body. She could hear each sound fully, intensely; his long strides eating through the ground, her damp wrapper dripping into the earth, watering the heads of creatures underneath, her breath lined with unspoken things. She watched the curve of the fish’s mouth, remembered it bucking against the stones, struggling to breathe and at that moment, imagining it turning blind in one eye from the brightness of the light. She returned his hat just before they snuck back into the palace separately, their chests expanding with the weight of new secrets.