A Dance For the Dead by Nuzo Onoh

Author:Nuzo Onoh [Nuzo Onoh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stygian Sky Media
Published: 2022-05-03T00:00:00+00:00

seventeen

THE SNAKE’S TONGUE

IFE WEAVED HIS way along the dusty path that led to Emeka’s hut with two large jars of Palm-wine clutched tightly in his hands. His sleep-deprived eyes were the red hue of the habitual drunk, yet a cold clarity in his mind observed his clumsy steps, heard the twitters of the villagers as they watched him from their hamlets. Their thoughts were almost as loud as the pounding in his heart—There goes Feather-Feet. Poor King Ezeala! One son dead and the other, a pathetic drunk.

Ife called out and waved at them and even managed some rowdy songs, the glazed fool’s smile pasted on his face. The urge to drink from the jars he carried was almost irresistible but he needed to have his head clear when he came face-to-face with Emeka. Ife raised one of the jars to his nostrils and inhaled—Maybe sniffing the heady aroma might curb the craving, Amadioha spare him this torture!

His mouth watered and his steps stumbled. He put the jar in his right hand to his mouth and took a long drink. It was potent stuff. It hit his head in an instant, filling him with the familiar giddiness. He took another mouthful and soon, his steps had turned into dancing hops, another loud song bursting from his lips.

Several minutes later, Ife paused outside Emeka’s hamlet, forcing his heart to slow its frenzied race as his eyes caught sight of the mud-hut where he’d last seen Diké on that fateful night of his eternal shame. He quickly looked away, unwilling to resurrect his anger—Not yet, not till the time is right to vent his fury.

He called out Emeka’s name, his voice hearty and loud.

“Brother-friend, are you there?” The old affectionate name galled Ife.

A door opened in the biggest hut in the hamlet and Emeka came out. He looked like a man caught by his mother-in-law giving money to his mistress. Guilt and fear drenched him in hot sweat as he stared at Ife from his doorway. Then his face hardened, devoid of a welcoming smile. Suspicion glinted in his shifty eyes.

“Why do you stand there moping like a frog, eh?” Ife called out with merriment, waving the jars in the air. “See, I brought us the best wine in the village to drown our sorrows. Come, the sun’s growing hot and we don’t want this wine to go stale on us.” Ife took another drink from the jar in his right hand before stumbling towards the mango tree. He plonked himself against the trunk and stretched out his legs. “Bring some cups, will you? I forgot to bring them with me.”

Emeka soon joined him under the mango tree, taking longer than usual. When he smiled, Ife noticed a tightness to his features, a wary intensity in the way Emeka’s eyes studied his face. Ife met his gaze with a disarming smile and waved him down by his side.

“I decided since you don’t want to come and see me, then I’ll come to you.” Ife laughed, raising an arm for a handshake.

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