The Evening Of The Morning

011

Goba held brake when he noticed someone by the side of the road waving them down, not only that, he heard, "It is I." Goba eased the Hulix beside Magaga. Behind him, a red sand road, large enough for a car to drive through stretched and disappeared at a bend.

Magaga joined Agbo behind and told Goba to follow the red road. There were little puddles here and there. The red mud road was slippery, and it was as though the car slid through ice.

"During the Hammatern," Magaga said, breaking the silence, "the ground dries and dust would curl up tyres and one would have to leave the glass up to avoid dust, and before the...before the new year this green vegetation you see would be covered in red dust. Until around late February when the first rain comes and washes it down. Nature fixing itself." Magaga stared out the glass at the green leaves passing in a blur. "I kind of hate the raining season. "

"Where are we going?" Boga asked.

"My house. But first, we have to go to a ground I have prepared for you." Magaga said.

"Ground for what?" Agbo asked.

"Don't worry," He tapped Agbo's thigh. "you would see."

"You have a house?" Goba asked.

"You forget I am a farmer."

"Farmer? You never told us!" Boga said.

"Well, I am telling you now."

They said nothing until they drove through a field of maize. The stretch of maze ended at the beginning of a short fence, and from the dog-awful odur, Agbo knew poultry was behind the fence. Agbo saw the palm trees ahead. And when they drove under the shades of the leaves, it was 7:00 P.M, Goba flipped on the headlight. The palm trees were perfectly aligned, vertically and horizontally and it was all one could see on the horizon. Then, Agbo saw something appear ahead, first a blob, then it took shape, looking like a roof, materializing, as if emerging from the ground, but Agbo knew that it was the Hilux that declined.

The building was before them, but still far out. The Hilux drove out of the shade of the palm trees and when they got closer, Agbo saw that the building wasn't painted, and the roof was made of thatched, the type one used to roof a bush bar. The building looked like a warehouse. Goba parked the car before the building and Magaga hops down.

"Come on." Magaga moved and the Squad followed closely. They moved beside the building. The building was as long as two compartments of a train. The spherical window, only two; at the beginning and end of the house, were higher than Agbo's eyesight. Even though he tipped on his toes, he wouldn't still get a view in. Even Boga who was the tallest couldn't look inside. The backyard was about two plots of finely mowed grass, and walking past there felt like crossing a field. They moved in a single file. The drizzle matured, and Agbo felt the droplets on his skin. The grass looked so green and felt artificial under his sole. Agbo felt a tap on his shoulder. Goba who was behind, said, "Where is this man taking us to?"

Agbo craned "I don't know?" he whispered. "The ground..."

"I can't hear you."

Agbo was scared to speak up, scared that Magaga might be listening.

"Oh I am," Magaga told Agbo through telepathy. "I can hear your thoughts. Meanwhile, Boga, the one following me closely, acting like he isn't scared at all has a full bladder." Boga was before Agbo, stumping agilely and Magaga before him with the same gait.

They moved farther from the house and were soon surrounded by forest again. Then a small building, round as to resemble a watchtower, but having nothing to do with such height, came into view behind the shade of trees. The small building was barricaded around by a short gate. Rabbits and squirrels scampered around. Magaga stopped walking, knelt down and beckoned one rabbit and it hopped to him and cushioned on his palm. Its long ears stood like spiky dishes. Before Magaga entered the barricaded space, which had the same mowed grass as the one behind the warehouse, he asked them to remove their shoes. It took a while before Agbo loosened his lace. The grass was wet from the drizzle and felt slippery under his feet.

"You have to wash your hands and foot. There." Magaga points to a blue pipe that protruded through the grass, close to the gate fence. Magaga moved to the tap, dropped the rabbit by the side and it remained there, like a tamed dog. The tap ran gently and Magaga washed his hands, face, and legs.

"Are you a Moslem?" Boga asked.

"As, Sabo, I was, but Magaga knows nothing of that."

"Then why-" Boga was saying but Agbo interjected.

"Boga, just shut up and do what the man says!"

"No, it's alright." Magaga had a slight smile that tugged at the edge of his lips. "He is scared."

"No, I'm not!"

Magaga smile tore wider. "Then wash."

Boga moved to the tap, looked at Agbo, then Goba before bending to wash up. Agbo and Goba followed quickly. Magaga approached the entrance of this brick hut; only that it was taller than an average hut. The door opened directly to a spiral stairway that descended into the earth. As though coming from upstairs they stepped down to a sacredly decorated space. The drawings and numbers on the wall; meaning nothing in particular to them, looked nothing associated with the dominant religions in Nigeria. There was a big pot by the corner. The space wasn't large but it was comfortable for them to stand, and maybe run around. Agbo focused on the paintings. It was of the Moon and the Star, the Earth, gods, and dragons. Humans marching in a single file, trailing to an effulgent glow behind a gate. There was another; of a naked woman and man, standing side by side, holding hands. Another, beside it, of the naked people making love, then another, of the woman, pregnant, and the man hugging the bump from behind. Then the last on the pictogram, of the naked woman holding her baby up. It was just her, the man was not there.