The Beautiful Side of the Moon

by Leye Adenle

  ‘They are from the town. Let’s go out and greet them,’ Brother Moses said.

  ‘Do you know them?’

  ‘No. But they have come to welcome us, so it would be rude to remain in the car.’

  He opened his door, stepped out, and left the door.

  He walked up to the men and started talking to them. It appeared he was talking mostly to the old man who had first stepped onto the road. The other men kept peering past them to try and see beyond the beam of the headlights into the car. They were all short, but they had sticks, and they outnumbered us considerably.

  Brother Moses gesticulated as he spoke. He waved his hand at me, beckoning me to join him. Rachel grabbed my arm from behind. Her fingers seized a considerable chunk of my flesh but she needn’t have worried; I had no plans to leave the car.

  Brother Moses turned to look at me. He frantically waved for me to join him.

  ‘Please don’t leave me alone,’ Rachel said.

  ‘Never,’ I said. Truth be told, I was too scared to leave the car.

  Walking backwards, his steps matched by forward steps by the men, Brother Moses came to my window.

  ‘Please, come out,’ he said through his teeth as he maintained a smile for the men who were very close to the car now.

  Rachel’s grip tightened on my arm, but I’d realised I had to get out, if only to draw them away from her.

  ‘I have to go,’ I said.

  We looked at each other. She didn’t say anything. I opened my door and placed my foot out onto the strange land. She let go of her grip on my arm and opened her door as well. Before I could warn her to stay in the car, she was standing outside, waiting for me

  I stepped out of the car. With both her hands, Rachel held onto my right arm.

  ‘I present to you, Mr Magic,’ Brother Moses said, holding his hand out at me. ‘The greatest magician in Lagos, Ogun, and Ijebu. In fact, all of the Western Region.’ He paused, perhaps for applause that did not come.

  The men stood silently, their fingers wrapped around the stems of their cudgels.

  The old man spoke. ‘Your assistant said that the State Government has paid for you to perform magic shows for us. We need teachers, not magicians. Are you going to teach our children how to do magic shows like you so that they can go into the city and earn money?’

  Brother Moses answered for me. ‘Master Osaretin paid a lot of money to go to magic college in London. He cannot just teach you his tricks without some sort of payment.’

  ‘But you said the State Government has paid for him,’ the old man said.

  ‘No, no, no, no, no, no.’ Brother Moses shook his head and waved his finger. ‘The government only paid for us to entertain you. They didn’t pay for us to teach you the secrets of our profession.’

  ‘What use is your magic show for us then?’

  ‘If you don’t want us to entertain your children with London magic like we entertain the children in Lagos, we are happy to leave right now. You just have to sign a document saying that we came here and you said you didn’t want us.’

  The men huddled around the old man and spoke in hushed voices. Like petals opening from a flower, the men peeled away from the old man and he spoke. ‘We are not turning you away. You can stay and perform your magic show for the children, but when you leave, tell the government people that next time they should send teachers. And real teachers, not the youth copper ones.’

  We drove slowly behind the men. They led us into their town, which was no more than a handful of un- painted bungalows with thatched roofs. I wondered why the houses were normal size with doors tall enough for someone my height.

  Rachel continued to hold me tight as the old man showed us into the house we would stay in. The other men followed behind.

  The town had no electricity and, from the looks of things, no running water either. Our ‘guest house’ was a bungalow that comprised a single corridor separating two rooms that had curtains for doors.

  ‘Is he your husband?’ the old man asked Rachel. She shook her head.

  ‘She will sleep here,’ he said. He pulled back the curtain over the room on the right and held his clay lantern up. We all looked in. There was a mattress on the floor, on top of a straw mat the like of which I hadn’t seen since I was a child. The room was bare except for the mattress.

  ‘The toilet is out there,’ the old man said. He pointed to a door at the end of the corridor. The toilet was outside? In the dark?

  ‘You and you, you will sleep here,’ he said. He waved his lamp at the adjacent room, leaving a trailing waft of black smoke.

  ‘Thank you for your generosity,’ Brother Moses said. ‘I will make a note in my report to the State Government.’ The old man waved the kind offer away with his free hand. He stepped aside to allow the other men to exit the bungalow, then he stopped at the door and pointed upwards. I had not noticed the hole in the thatched roof until then.

  ‘That is where the last youth copper who dared to lay his hands on one of our daughters was taken,’ he said.

  He made eye contact with me, then he passed under the hole, leaving me baffled by his cryptic, ominous piece of information.

  Chapter 25 The Magician’s Assistant

  Brother Moses, Rachel, and I stood under the hole in the thatched roof and peered through it at the dark sky above. The hole was about a metre wide, maybe less, but enough for a person to have been dragged out through it. The disturbed fibres of the thatched roof were curled upwards at the edges of the near perfectly round hole.

  ‘What does he mean, ‘that was where a youth copper was taken’?’ I said.

  Brother Moses in his jovial voice explained. ‘They are superstitious people in this town. They believe in spirits and ghosts and witches and wizards. They think something from above took a youth copper away through the hole.’

  ‘Superstitious? There is a hole. Who made it? Where did the copper go?’

  In my service year I was posted to a town in the North, not dissimilar to Faka fiki in its wide variance from everything I was used to. In that village in Gombe they also had their own gang of spirits that they entertained us with. But their own gods and spirits only demonstrated their amazing powers in the legends of the villagers; they did not leave gaping holes behind where they had snatched youth coppers out through thatched roofs.

  Brother Moses shifted and tilted his head as if to inspect the hole from another perspective.

  ‘It may be that the youth copper was mischievous. He was warned not to touch any of the village girls or else a spirit would come and carry him away, so he made the hole to spook the villagers. They are very superstitious people, these people. You will see. Tomorrow, they will believe all of our tricks.’

  ‘Superstitious? Tricks? Really? Really?’

  ‘Yes, yes. They are really very superstitious. They have gods that they worship for almost everything. You will see. They are very backward indeed.’

  ‘After everything that has happened, you are saying something could not have taken the youth copper out through this hole?’

  ‘No, no. All I am saying is that it is a story the villagers tell to make sure young attractive men like you keep their hands off their daughters. Ah! I know. Maybe they made the hole themselves.’

  ‘Why exactly have we come to this place of all places?’

  ‘Because they are gullible. You would be able to easily mesmerise them with your tricks.’

  ‘My tricks? I don’t know any.’

  ‘Do you have a coin? Show her your coin trick.’

  ‘What is he talking about?’ Rachel said.

  I was keen not to get her any more apprehensive than she already was. While thinking of how to answer her, my mind replayed my ability to accurately call the face, and how I intentionally got it wrong each time Daniel tossed his coin, and suddenly it hit me; that was in the future that I came back from. There was no way Brother Moses could know about that.

  ‘How do you know about the coins?’ I asked.r />
  ‘How do you mean, how do I know?’

  ‘How do you know about my coin trick?’ It felt deceptive calling it a trick.

  ‘You can predict which way the coin will fall, can’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I can. But how do you know that?’

  ‘Everybody knows.’

  ‘Who is everybody? How do you know?’

  ‘We all know. Remember, Professor Ochiko told you to keep practising your coins? Have you been practising?’

  Perhaps there was nothing to my building suspicion. ‘I don’t have a coin.’

  He put his hand in his pocket. I knew he could keep uncountable things in the tiniest of places. I quickly took Rachel’s hand and led her to the room that had been designated as hers.

  ‘I’ll stay with you,’ I said.

  ‘That might not be a good idea,’ Brother Moses said. Rachel stopped, so I had to stop as well.

  ‘I am only your manager. Your assistant will soon join us. What are you talking about?’

  ‘You are Mr Magic, the magician from Lagos. I am your manager, promoter, call me what you may, but every respectable magician has an assistant. Yours is joining us tonight.’

  ‘Who is it?’

  He simply looked at me as if I he expected me to know.

  I realised I did know. Adesua was coming.

  Chapter 26 An App for Everything

  Brother Moses and I sat on the doorstep in front of the bungalow to wait for Adesua. I felt he wanted to talk but I maintained a frown of deep thought, and sat facing slightly away from him so that he would not bother me.

  What a fantastically dark night it was. Our neighbours’ huts, metres away, stood in gloomy silence like painted shadows on an infinite black canvas. No lanterns shone through their windows. I’d heard no sounds coming from them. The nocturnal beasts made their night noises in the forest, whose borders were indistinguishable and shifting. The air was stiff and laden with the raw scents of vegetation, and the sky was an endless expanse of featureless blackness. Altogether, it was grim.

  And it was hot. My palms were clammy, my armpits were moist, my entire body dreamed of a cold shower in a clean modern bathroom.

  The rumbling noise of an engine grew in the distance. We saw the lights of the big noisy truck before it navigated the bend and pulled up in front of us. By then, Brother Moses and I were on our feet. It was a big truck. The driver turned off the headlights and killed the engine. Both doors opened. Adesua climbed out from the driver’s side while a man, one of the villagers, hopped out of the passenger side. He didn’t have a stick.

  They joined each other in front of the truck and continued with a conversation they must have been having in the cab. As they walked up to us, Adesua looked at me ever so briefly, but the smile on her face was for the man she was talking to. The short chap was gesticulating with his hands, his little fingers flying all over the place like he was smearing invisible paint over an invisible wall. They stopped in front of us. Adesua placed her hand onto his shoulder, threw her head back, and laughed at whatever it was that he had just said. Before she recovered, he was telling another joke. I didn’t care to try to hear it. I was sure it wasn’t that funny. Adesua was only laughing to humour him. It was all part of the act to charm the natives.

  ‘How did you do that?’ Brother Moses said to me.

  ‘Do what?’ I asked.

  ‘I can’t hear your thoughts. How did you learn to block them?’

  I did not know I was blocking him out of my head. In fact, had I thought about it I would have started thinking of Bruce Lee or Pink Floyd, or mentally doing the multiplication tables, because I was probably thinking way too loud, and of thoughts and notions I’d rather he didn’t hear.

  ‘I didn’t do anything.’

  He wasn’t exactly smiling, but the way he looked at me, his face looked happy.

  ‘It comes naturally to you,’ he said.

  Pride. That was what was on his face. He nodded slowly. He stared at me for a few moments longer, then said, ‘Mr Magic,’ and slowly nodded again.

  Somehow, Adesua and her new friend had gone from standing next to each other to holding hands. They looked like a young mother holding the hand of her child, only the child was a grown man who was keen on making her laugh. He liked her, and he was trying to impress her with his jokes. I imagined all the jokes started, ‘A tall man and a short man walked into a bar.’ That made me smile.

  Adesua and the man stood in front of Brother Moses and me, a smile still lingering from her laughter, and she introduced her new friend to us.

  ‘Guys, this is Odedina. He’s a hunter and a wrestler.’

  The man thrust his hand up to me with much more swag than could possibly reside in such a small body.

  I shook his hand. It was like having a child’s hand in mine.

  ‘What is your name?’ he asked when I failed to intro- duce myself.

  Had he not been in the welcome party? They all looked the same.

  ‘This is Mr Magic,’ Brother Moses said.

  ‘You are the magician. Can you show me a magic trick?’

  I wished I could show him how to make a man disappear.

  ‘You have to come to his performance tomorrow to see that,’ Brother Moses said. ‘You will be mesmerised beyond your imagination. Tell everybody to come and see the show. It’s not just for the children. Everyone must come. Tell them.’

  Odedina swung his hand to Brother Moses. ‘And you are?’

  ‘His manager,’ Brother Moses said, shaking the man’s hand. ‘Will you come to the show tomorrow?’

  Odedina looked up at Adesua. ‘As long as this lovely lady is there, I will be there.’

  Adesua and Odedina laughed. It was precisely that. A joke. There was no way on Earth he had a chance with her. I hoped.

  ‘I have to get some rest before tomorrow,’ Adesua said, ‘so I’m afraid I’ll have to say goodnight now, dear.’

  She bent to hug him and offer the sides of her face for him to kiss. His hands barely reached her shoulders. As he left, he stopped to wave one more time. Adesua waved back and he blew her a kiss. She caught it in her hand and plastered it onto her left breast. It was the most cringe-worthy thing to witness. And then he was gone, wobbling along into the night, his white wrapper the only visible thing as he disappeared into the distance.

  Adesua turned swiftly to Brother Moses. ‘Where is she?’

  ‘Inside.’

  Adesua stepped between us and went into the house.

  ‘How did she know?’ I said.

  ‘It is her job to know everything. Her job is to protect you.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, but how did she know about Rachel?’

  ‘I told her.’

  ‘Telepathically?’

  ‘No. I sent her a message.’

  ‘How? When?’

  ‘With this phone.’ He pulled a smartphone from his pocket. ‘I sent her a text message while you were driving. I’m sorry. Did you want to tell her yourself?’

  ‘You have a phone?’

  ‘Yes, yes. I must show you the apps I have on it. Remind me tomorrow. I just downloaded an app that makes things invisible. It’s extraordinary. I have one that I made, it tells the precise weight of anything you photograph. Isn’t that amazing? I made that one. It has been downloaded fifty-five times. It’s not that popular yet. I think it’s the name. I didn’t come up with a good name. That’s what is lacking; a good catchy name.’

  ‘You built an app?’

  ‘Yes, yes. Would you like to download it? I call it, “What does it weigh?” Not catchy, right? I know, I know. That’s why it’s not popular.’

  ‘You built an app?’

  ‘Yes, yes. Most magicians create apps. Maybe you will create some yourself. When you learn a new trick that only you can perform, before everyone else learns how to do it, you create an app for it and sell it to other magicians.’

  There were so many questions, but talking to him about magician’s apps only managed to tem
porarily dis- tract me from what had led to the talk of apps in the first place.

  Throughout the rest of the night I sat on the mattress on the floor in our room and watched the silhouettes of Adesua and Rachel through the curtain over their door. They were sitting facing each other on the mattress. A lantern burned between them. Adesua talked and Rachel sat still and listened.

  Chapter 27 Stir Me Hot

  Gunshots woke me up. From the sound of it, many guns were being fired by many shooters. I rolled off the bed, instinctively trying to take shelter under it, but I rolled straight off the mattress and onto the floor. In my panic, I had forgotten there was no bed to shelter under. Other than the mattress the room was bare, and there was no place to hide.

  Brother Moses was gone. With my belly flat on the ground I looked through to the adjacent room. The curtain had been drawn back. The room was empty. The shooting stopped. There was something odd about it. A second later I began to laugh.

  I got up and saw the clothes laid out on the other side of the mattress: a black suit, a black tie, and a white shirt. On the floor, a pair of shiny black shoes had been placed beside my trainers, next to my folded up clothes. Neatly rolled up silvery socks were sticking out of the new shoes. The fireworks started again. I knew the costume was mine, or rather, Mr Magic’s, but it didn’t feel quite right wearing such immaculate clothes before I’d taken a bath.

  Had Adesua had a bath? Where? What about Rachel? Did she have new clothes too? I lifted the edge of the curtain over the window. Brother Moses was in his purple outfit, complete with his hat, standing amidst kids in front of the lorry. He was the one responsible for the fireworks, which were materialising ready lit from his wrists before he tossed them into the air to fully discharge their noisy essence, much to the delight of the cheering village children. I couldn’t see Adesua or Rachel. I was keen to know what Adesua had been telling Rachel last night.