The Dark Issue 75 by Y.M. Pang

Author:Y.M. Pang [The Dark Magazine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: dark fantasy, fantasy, horror, magazine
Publisher: Prime Books
Published: 2021-07-31T20:49:51+00:00

Clara Madrigano is a Brazilian author of speculative fiction. She publishes both in Portuguese and in English, and you can find her fiction in The Dark and in Clarkesworld. Two of her stories were recently selected for the 2020 Locus Recommended Reading List.

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by Ernest O. Ògúnyẹmí

I

Banji has been scamming for well over six months and he is not far from where he was when he began. His clients pay cheap money: two divorced women from Newton Abbot sent a fifty and a seventy pound itunes gift card, respectively; a fifty dollar card from a young woman who works in a mental health support group in Manhattan; a fifty card from a gay American man who likes Big Black Cocks. Banji wants bigger clients, bigger money.

“I want to roll a Benz too, gee,” he says in a voice to Jide.

They used to be as close as cursed things, Banji and Jide. They grew up together on that street of red dust in Bode Olude in Abeokuta. They attended the same school, dawning white shirts tucked into khaki shorts. They played football together. Jide did bad grades, chilled in School Two with other boys, smoking powdered leaves wrapped in white rislas or, when they could not afford a risla, paper torn from their school notebooks and making out with girls from other schools who hated school. Now the boy commands millions. He just bought a Benz. He recently bought and refurbished a house for his mother in Abeokuta. His WhatsApp status says it without noise: On God, caption for a photo of him in a classy bar, bottles of expensive drinks on the table, two fingers splayed: peace, eye clicked, lip fresh—perfect; Oluwa Na My One Support. OG, caption for a photo of him posing in front of his Benz, clothed in Valentino, Burberry on his feet, Gucci band—boy who has it all; photo of his wallet: $17xxx2.

“There’s no money in dating, only change,” Jide tells Banji on the phone. “You should try sugar baby. I go run you payment. You should be able to set up a cash app email now—you will just use a cash app photo, a soft variant of the cash app usual email address as your daub email address. You get?”

Banji meets Jide at Denero, one quiet hotel in Ladi Lak. Banji lives in Aguda but Jide is here to lay low, one stupid somebody in SARS is giving him headache.

“I can’t be giving him money all the time. He doesn’t fight my battles. I’m here to just chill a little jare,” Jide says. He sits on the bed. He is leaner, not like in the pictures he has been uploading on WhatsApp lately. There is a scratch on his neck.

“Sorry, man,” Banji says.

First they set up the cash app gmail: [email protected]. Then Jide forwards the payment, which can be edited to the effect, though there are particular features encoded into the whole thing that runs and runs, a link that enters the recipient’s cash app: it all looks believable.

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