Sango

Sango heaved, his eyes were frantic and his breath was ragged. He assumed it would be easy this time. He’d been steadily getting ready for this moment; sometimes stoically, sometimes with quietly crazed fanaticism and other times with grim despair. He stood facing the wall of the bedroom, his chest bare and the tip of the knife pointed at and resting delicately on the skin of his right chest. He wasn’t sure if this would kill him but he was going to try. He was absolutely going to try. His hands gripped the handle of the kitchen knife as the butt rested against the wall. His plan was to force himself to move quickly into it, pushing his body to meet the knife. If it didn’t kill him, he knew he was going to try again, and again, and again until he got it right or until he bled to death. A strange feeling coursed through his upper torso, warming him from the inside. This was the moment. Now was the time to do it.

Osun

There was a weakness that spread all over Osun’s body when she opened the door to her apartment and found Sango sprawled on the floor, face down, naked, and in a pool of blood. Her mind couldn’t panic but she could feel the life being exhumed from her, slowly, surely, painfully. She felt her face tense, stretch and age a few years in the seconds that she had been staring at Sango’s body. Her lungs seemed to want to collapse, deciding to refuse entry to the air that involuntary tried to find its way in. Her brain prompted an involuntary deep breath and the fresh oxygen slapped her mind awake.

Sango was on the floor, dead. Her husband was gone. The love of her life had departed. The rock that held her up had crumbled. He was gone and she was alone.

She sank to the floor, her back sliding down the door frame until the came to rest on the floor. All the while, her dumbfounded look never changed as her eyes stayed fixed on the body in front of her.

“Iyawo.”

She barely heard the word, it came like powder trying to swim through water.

“Iyawo.”

She heard it again, less clearly this time. By now, she was starting to develop tunnel vision. The image in front of her started to blur and the edges of her vision darkened. She could hear her heart thump in her chest. It felt like a slow, mournful, distorted bass kick that reverberated through her chest and her head. Soon, her vision blurred completely and she could feel parts of her face trembling and...water? Was that water running down her cheeks? She could feel a sound rising from her chest and vibrating her throat in stops and starts like an engine trying to start running when the sound finally rang true and she felt and heard and loud shriek escape her lips. She closed her eyes to the stinging tears and crumpled to the floor, her belly heaving and involuntarily trembling as it tried to match the rhythm of her tears.

“Iyawo!”

The word barely penetrated her mind coming instead as a distortion that knocked so silently at her ear drums. Soon after the voice called her, a pair of strong arms gently lifted her from the floor and carried her away from the room, away from Sango’s body. She didn’t protest. She knew it was useless. She only continued to cry to herself, pulling her hair, her hands trying to hold onto something, anything that could claw or rip this pain away from her. Her eyes were open but she saw nothing, her pupils only stared into the void.

***

***

Sango cradled her in his arms as she wept softly into his chest. The air from the open window was cool on their bodies and the moon shone brightly into the room. There wasn’t a sound to be heard but the distant rushing of waves. In between sobs, Osun finally spoke.

“Why did you have to leave me?” She asked.

Sango glanced down; her eyes, her entire face seemed to be pleading for an answer. Something to plug the gap that he had opened when he left. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Only then did he notice her hand resting on his shoulder, balled up like a delicate hammer, ready to pound it out of him if necessary.

“I...” He began, faltering. He broke eye contact and heaved a heavy sigh, staring down into the darkness where their bodies met in his embrace.

“I wasn’t as good at loving the world as you were.” He finally said. The words vibrated deeply through both of them.

Sango held out his hand and produced a ball of flame. The two of them stared at it for a time as it illuminated and warmed their bodies. Sango’s voice broke the silence.

“I couldn’t do this when I was alive and it ended up killing me.” He looked down at her, and smiled. There was joy in the smile but melancholy in his eyes.

“You were always better at shrugging off the dreams than I was. I couldn’t. The memories were too sharp, too clear, too vivid for me to shake off. I missed this.” He faced at the fire in his hand. “It felt like part of me had been cut off, like I was only pretending to be alive without it. I felt weak, powerless, useless.” The fire winked out and he turned to face Osun once more. He cradled her face in his hand.

“The worst thing was that I started to feel like too much of a burden for you. I couldn’t work, I couldn’t do anything near the end. I could barely go outside and it hurt me every day to see you come home with the same haunted expression-“

“But what about me?” Osun’s voice was a low growl coming from below Sango’s chest. He looked down and saw he glaring at his chest, refusing to look at him. Fresh tears had fallen down her cheeks and a new one was about to fall.

“What about me?” She asked again, louder, as the tear fell from her face and came to rest on Sango’s abdomen. Sango could feel the tension in her muscles building up before it evaporated suddenly and all he could hear were her light sniffs and he could feel her body squirm as she brought her hand down to wipe her face.

“What about me?” She asked, softer this time and Sango wished with all his strength that he could take all of her pain away. He hated himself for what he had done, even more so now. With words failing him, he did the only thing he thought he could do. He pulled her closer and hugged her tighter, rocking back and forth as her sobs became even more painful and her tears streamed freely from her face onto his chest. His heart was in agony but he had to be strong for her. He had failed already, but in this one ethereal moment, he had to be strong for her. So they continued to rock, Sango holding Osun as tightly and as lovingly as he could and for a time, the only sound was of Osun’s sobs and occasional wails as Sango said repeatedly, at intervals;

“I’m sorry, Osun, I’m so sorry.”

***

Osun woke up to the sounds of a noisy compound and the hot sun baking her face. Instinctively, she reached out and felt...nothing. Her breath caught and in a flash, she remembered the dream from last night. She remembered seeing him, and feeling him, like he was really there. She remembered the quiet, how it felt like they were the only ones in the world. She remembered crying and beating at his chest furiously, willing the tears to stop but they only fell harder. She vaguely remembered hearing him say over and over again;

“Fi are e bale Osun, ma binu.”

It had felt so real. She crumpled back onto the bed and hugged the pillow. Her heart felt fatigued, drained. She hugged the pillow tighter and buried her face in it closing her eyes and trying to go to sleep once more, trying, and failing, to stop the tears from flowing again.

Ogun

Ogun nearly fell from the force of the blow that he had just landed on Mike’s face. He had heard a loud, sharp crack and he prayed that it was Mike’s entire face that he had broken. He felt hands grab his arms but he pulled free with ease, reaching for Mike’s collar and pulling him down to connect with Ogun’s rapidly accelerating knee. Ogun caught him in the chest, knocking the wind out of him and throwing him onto the floor in a wretched mess. Ogun raised his booted foot to stomp Mike into the ground but this time, several hands grabbed him and successfully tackled him to the ground. He struggled, testing the strength of everyone that was holding him.

“I swear!” Ogun screamed. “I’ll kill him! Let me go! Let me murder the bastard!” His voice became hoarse from shouting and he didn’t even know when his eyes became red and the tears started flowing.

“Let me go!” He shouted, weakly this time. His struggling was losing strength as well.

“Let me kill him, please, let me just kill him.” He pleaded, his voice broken and hoarse. Soon, he was silent, breathing quick breaths with the adrenalin still flowing through him. His eyes stared ahead, into nothing and his face was a mask of grief, pain, and anger. He was still being held by firm hands just in case he gathered enough strength to go on another rampage.

“O kan ta wa ni. O kan ta wa bi malu.” Ogun said, his voice regaining some of its timbre. “If not for him, Sango would still be alive.”

The room hushed at this and the only sounds were of Mike’s sputtering coughs and Ogun’s heavy breathing.

“Are you okay?” A voice asked Ogun. He nodded, gently, and the hands that held him let go at once. After a time, Ogun stood up and went to take a seat by the wall where he resumed staring into what only he could see while still capturing his breath.

Osun watched all of this with a quite detachment, her senses not fully focused on the people or the events in the room. Soon, all sound was lost to her and the room lost focus before fading to black.

Osun

”I had a terrible dream last night. In in, you were sleeping with another man.”

Osun remembered his touch; it was electric, literally electric. She could feel a current pass from his fingers to her skin when he held her, or simply when his fingers were almost about to touch her. Those were the best moments.

“You bastard! This is all of your doing!”

She remembers the scene. It was dark and lit only by a light coming from outside his window. The only sounds were of her moans, his moans, their breaths, the sounds of their lips when they kissed, the light, occasional rocking of the bed and the rustling of the sheets. In time, their bodies were slick with sweat but it only added to the passion. It was a long night but they didn’t get tired at all. Something about the man reminded Osun of something from a long time ago, something she had lost, or forgotten. He made her feel alive in a way that she hadn’t felt in seemingly forever. She couldn’t let go, she wouldn’t let go and he reciprocated in the way his hands glided over her body or gripped her firmly here and there. She locked him in with her legs and her arms, exploring him with her fingers and biting her lip when he touched her right there, or there, or there again. His moans were a low rumble that vibrated through his chest to hers and each time she came, she came in waves; roaring, mighty waves. By the end of the night, she remembered what it was that she had forgotten. Being with him made her feel like a goddess again and strangely, somehow, he felt like a god.

“Don’t worry my love...you’re the only one I could ever want.”

It wasn’t easy, telling Sango. She told him in their small flat, in the bedroom, after she got home early from work one day and he simply stared at her. She could see the hurt on his face and the way his shoulders slumped but she wished he would say something, anything to her. She almost wished he would get angry, the silence was unbearable.

“I swear, I’ll never see him again.” She wasn’t lying, she never did see him again but Sango remained mute.

“Sango, please.” Nothing. “Sango...”

No words.

“I’m sorry.”

The silence hung thick in the air, the only sounds to be heard were children playing in a distant compound. Sango shook his head and began to walk towards the door, away from her.

“Sango-“ Osun raised a hand to grab him, but stopped, as if stung by the air around him. She wanted to beg, to plead but she stayed rooted to the spot as she watched him leave. It was only long after he had gone and the sun was close to setting that she finally felt herself cry, silent sad sobs of guilt and the pain of betrayal. She didn’t see Sango for another two weeks.

Sango

“Tell me where he lives, I need to go and see him.”

Sango stood outside his window, mesmerised by the scene going on inside the house. It looked like the kind of thing you only read about in stories, or in films, or in food advertisements geared towards families. It was like those adverts were modelled on this family.

“Are you sure young man?”

His wife was gorgeous. Sango wasn’t one for weaves but she wore it well, you’d be forgiven for thinking it was her real hair. She had a beautiful smile that accentuated her high cheekbones and made her whole face glow. They had two children, a boy and a girl. They too looked like they were delivered from a catalogue, smiling and giggling at something their mother or father had said. Their father. Sango felt his mood darken but it couldn’t darken too much because once he had set foot in their compound, he understood. He glared at the man and he served helpings of roasted potatoes onto everyone’s plate. He was still in his work trousers and shirt; light grey and pale blue respectively. From him, Sango could feel power, power like he had once had. It was the power of a god and Sango immediately understood why Osun had been drawn to him. Sango lifted his hands and stared at them, once, he was able to create balls of fire and electricity but that was a long time ago. He looked at the man now, he was settling down to eat with his family and they were all excitedly chatting about something. Sango wondered if this man knew what he had, or if he was completely ignorant of the gift that resided within him.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Sango felt a light tap on his shoulder followed by an old man’s voice.

“It’s time to go.” The old man’s feet shuffled behind him as he turned to exit via the gate. Sango gave the family one last glance before he turned, walked through the gate and set foot back in Osun’s Shrine.

***

Fin

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