Chapter 2: Under the Fan

As he just finish, one man enter shop. Him face pale, eyes dull like person wey never sleep.

The bell for door no ring well, e just cough. The man clothes soak, but no be rain—e be like sweat. E wipe face with old handkerchief, nose pinch small, eyes red. Na stranger face, but e wear one brown jacket, shoe wey mud still dey chop.

My grandpapa smile, ask am, "Young man, wetin you wan chop?"

He open palm, show welcome, but I fit see say his smile stiff. He dey try hide him fear behind customer service.

The man look my grandpapa, smile small. "Uncle, you no go remember me. That year, trouble happen for this shop. I dey find pikin that time."

His smile crooked, like say the muscle for face dey pain am. Voice get one kind echo, as if e dey try remember how to talk normal.

My grandpapa freeze small, look the man well, then just laugh. "People dey plenty wey dey come this shop, I no fit remember everybody."

He shake head, scratch chin, eyes dey calculate the man. He fit remember, but e no wan talk too quick.

The man talk, "That year, I find pikin, even fight for here. Small thing remain, person for die."

He tap table gently, like say e dey try recall memory. His eye flash sharp for one second.

My grandpapa laugh, "Ehen, I remember now. That time your wife follow you come."

The laugh no reach him eye, but e try make the air light.

He come ask, "You find the pikin?"

He lean forward, voice soft, like say he dey pity the man.

The man smile, "Never see am, but I hear small news."

His smile short, quick, and he look down, as if the ground dey hide story.

My grandpapa nod, smile, talk, "News na better thing. You come alone?"

He adjust stool, try look outside to see if anybody follow the man.

The man answer, "No, my wife dey come behind me. She go soon reach. Uncle, give me two bowl of noodles and half bottle ogogoro. I hear say una ogogoro dey sweet—I wan try am today."

He drop the request like person wey dey test if shop dey work. Him hand steady, but him eye still dey roam, like say he dey find something lost.

My grandpapa look my grandma small, then nod—she sabi the sign. He stand up, pat his wrapper, then give the man one kind calculating look, just brief, as if he dey check the man for back.

He come tell my grandma, "Mama, abeg go bring ogogoro."

He lower him voice, make e sound like say na ordinary matter, but e eye dey talk another thing. For village, ogogoro na special drink, only elders dey taste am well.

My grandma nod, waka go backyard.

She carry lantern with her, wrapper sweep ground as she pass, leg dey quick—she no like to stay alone for this kind night.

My grandpapa smile, "Young man, find chair siddon. I dey go backyard go cook. Food go ready soon."

He motion the man to sit, then he himself waka go behind, pushing curtain with his left hand. I fit hear plate dey knock for backyard.

As he go, na only me and the man remain for shop.

The shop quiet small, only rain and fan noise dey compete. I shift my chair closer to counter, my heart dey beat anyhow.

The man look around, pick chair, siddon under the fan.

My heart squeeze, as if spirit dey press am. That seat never pure since that day.

Na that same spot my grandpapa second son dey when the thing happen.

My mind dey wander, remember how people gather that day, how the blood stain tile, and how mama cry pass market woman.

Because weather cold and everywhere dull, nobody on the fan.

Na so we dey like cold weather, use wrapper and hot tea, nobody dey find fan this kind night. But the thing still dey hang above, shadow dey dance for wall.

But the breeze wey dey enter dey push the fan small, e dey make noise.

E just dey swing small, make that "kuru kuru" sound wey dey put fear for person heart, like ghost dey play for ceiling.

The fan blade just dey shake, but e no dey turn.

The thing dey like old man wey dey cough for bed—just noise, no power.

The man look me, talk for one kind voice, "Small boy, on the fan. E dey hot me."

E voice sharp, but carry one kind undertone, like person wey dey vex for inside, but dey try hold am. Eye red, lips press together.

Him eye no soft, e be like say e dey vex, the thing make am look scary.

The way e take look me, I no fit match eye with am. My spirit just fly.

I just talk small, "But uncle, everywhere cold and rain dey fall. Why you wan on fan?"

My voice tiny, like fowl wey just hatch. Hand dey tremble as I hold counter.