Chapter 9: The Spirit’s Trap

"No, follow me—come hide for my place for some days. That female spirit go find you. If you no fit explain next time, she go kill you."

Baba Mo dey waka up and down.

My spirit dey check am—true Baba Mo no dey ever panic. I touch my pocket—thank God two prayer papers still dey.

I quietly bring one, slap am for Baba Mo face. He shock, before I fit talk, he tear am commot.

He look the prayer paper, look me, eye wide, then, like ice cream, he begin melt for my front.

Omo, see as the face dey drop, the hand dey turn water, the shoe dey dissolve. As "Baba Mo" melt finish, one note remain for ground.

I pick am, open—e talk: "Welcome to being my offering."

The handwriting wicked, the ink dey red like blood. Cold run my body, I jump. I throw the note, bite my finger, draw prayer sign for air, push am with all my power.

Na only this prayer my master teach me when I start tattoo. She talk say every master must teach apprentice one way to save life. Na last card—no use am anyhow. If you use am too much, e no go work again.

"Bang bang bang"—something break.

My shop light flicker, small wind blow open window, sand enter my eye. All the illusion clear. I look around—I still dey my shop main hall. I never go anywhere.

Omo, na curse I dey under, I no even know.

My body weak, my throat dry. "Hehehe... xixixi..."

Plenty wicked laugh dey my ear, like say many people dey laugh together.

I see shadow for corner, pale hand wave, disappear. Some pale faces just flash pass my door, disappear.

That time, small light dey show for sky. Sun wan rise.

I breathe out long, fall for ground.

For my mind, I dey thank God say night don pass. My people dey talk say, if you survive till morning, juju no fit kill you easy.