the gang who killed Bonzo. No, the problem with getting deeper into the gang was that it made things too complicated. Apart from anything else, how would he keep covering up in front of Papa? Life would be simpler if he just concentrated on getting onto the football team with Gary. If he didn’t make trouble and stayed out of the gang’s way, they should realize that he was no longer interested.
“What’s wrong, little brother? Didn’t you hear me?”
Femi couldn’t stare at the spokes of wheels behind the plate glass any longer. He half turned and lifted his face but couldn’t bring himself to look directly into the brown webbed eyes.
“I haven’t been feeling too good,” he said weakly. If only he hadn’t stopped outside the bicycle shop, he would have already turned the corner toward home. Then James wouldn’t have caught him.
“That’s what friends are for. To help you when you’re not feeling so good. Errol has been asking for you.”
“I can’t come now.” Femi shuffled as if he had to go.
“I’ve been covering for you, bwoy! I saw you look the other way twice last week, but I didn’t tell Errol. He doesn’t like that kind of thing, you know.”
“But—”
“No buts, little brother. You don’t turn down a brethren. Come!”
As they approached the garage, it appeared to be empty.The only noise came from the road behind them. The building remained silent as they walked toward the wooden screen. Femi felt the tight band around his chest ease a little. But as soon as James rattled open the back-room door, the smell of weed stung his nostrils even before he saw the fog. This time Errol did not come out, and James led Femi inside. His eyes sharpened in the gloom. Errol and three young men were sitting on a medley of old chairs and wooden boxes. Some boxes stacked together in the middle served as a table. Cans of beer and cards were spread out on top. They must have been in the middle of a game because each man had cards in his hand.
Femi couldn’t see Errol’s eyes behind the shades, but he could feel them penetrate him. Errol didn’t make any light chat this time. He picked up a small, square package from the floor and held it out. It was the size of a compact disc and was wrapped in gold paper.
“It’s for your sister, right. I’ve been waiting nearly two weeks. Give it to her tonight, right?”
Femi felt the hardness of the parcel between his fingers.
“Right, Errol,” he mumbled.
“Just remember—I like people to stay in touch. You get my meaning?”
Femi did. He nodded. The young man sitting next to Errol had been leaning forward with his head down, hidden under a cap. He raised himself suddenly, examining Femi.
“Yeah, Errol is here for his friends,” he said deliberately. “So his friends have to be here for him.”
Femi clutched Errol’s parcel. Nothing was going to be simple after all.
10
A Bad Taste
Sade found the parcel on her bed after supper. Papa had left for the cab office, and she had gone to her room to continue her English homework. Had Papa left a surprise present for her? But gold paper wasn’t really his style, and her birthday was still months away. She guessed it was a CD. It certainly wouldn’t be a gift from Femi. Yet he was the only person who could have put it there. What was going on? Curiosity fought her unease as she slipped her forefinger between the folds of gold paper to reveal the cover. Four black women in black! It was their first single. She should be over the moon! But the words in capital letters on the pink Post-it stuck in one corner made her flush as sharply as a slap.
IT’S YOUR DESTINY!
BE MY QUEEN!
A bitter taste surged up into her throat like the rising of a bad memory. There was only one person who would have written those words and forced them into her ears, ignoring her protests.
With the parcel in her hand, Sade stormed into Femi’s room.
“Who gave you this?” she demanded.
Femi shrugged.
“A
“What’s wrong, little brother? Didn’t you hear me?”
Femi couldn’t stare at the spokes of wheels behind the plate glass any longer. He half turned and lifted his face but couldn’t bring himself to look directly into the brown webbed eyes.
“I haven’t been feeling too good,” he said weakly. If only he hadn’t stopped outside the bicycle shop, he would have already turned the corner toward home. Then James wouldn’t have caught him.
“That’s what friends are for. To help you when you’re not feeling so good. Errol has been asking for you.”
“I can’t come now.” Femi shuffled as if he had to go.
“I’ve been covering for you, bwoy! I saw you look the other way twice last week, but I didn’t tell Errol. He doesn’t like that kind of thing, you know.”
“But—”
“No buts, little brother. You don’t turn down a brethren. Come!”
As they approached the garage, it appeared to be empty.The only noise came from the road behind them. The building remained silent as they walked toward the wooden screen. Femi felt the tight band around his chest ease a little. But as soon as James rattled open the back-room door, the smell of weed stung his nostrils even before he saw the fog. This time Errol did not come out, and James led Femi inside. His eyes sharpened in the gloom. Errol and three young men were sitting on a medley of old chairs and wooden boxes. Some boxes stacked together in the middle served as a table. Cans of beer and cards were spread out on top. They must have been in the middle of a game because each man had cards in his hand.
Femi couldn’t see Errol’s eyes behind the shades, but he could feel them penetrate him. Errol didn’t make any light chat this time. He picked up a small, square package from the floor and held it out. It was the size of a compact disc and was wrapped in gold paper.
“It’s for your sister, right. I’ve been waiting nearly two weeks. Give it to her tonight, right?”
Femi felt the hardness of the parcel between his fingers.
“Right, Errol,” he mumbled.
“Just remember—I like people to stay in touch. You get my meaning?”
Femi did. He nodded. The young man sitting next to Errol had been leaning forward with his head down, hidden under a cap. He raised himself suddenly, examining Femi.
“Yeah, Errol is here for his friends,” he said deliberately. “So his friends have to be here for him.”
Femi clutched Errol’s parcel. Nothing was going to be simple after all.
10
A Bad Taste
Sade found the parcel on her bed after supper. Papa had left for the cab office, and she had gone to her room to continue her English homework. Had Papa left a surprise present for her? But gold paper wasn’t really his style, and her birthday was still months away. She guessed it was a CD. It certainly wouldn’t be a gift from Femi. Yet he was the only person who could have put it there. What was going on? Curiosity fought her unease as she slipped her forefinger between the folds of gold paper to reveal the cover. Four black women in black! It was their first single. She should be over the moon! But the words in capital letters on the pink Post-it stuck in one corner made her flush as sharply as a slap.
IT’S YOUR DESTINY!
BE MY QUEEN!
A bitter taste surged up into her throat like the rising of a bad memory. There was only one person who would have written those words and forced them into her ears, ignoring her protests.
With the parcel in her hand, Sade stormed into Femi’s room.
“Who gave you this?” she demanded.
Femi shrugged.
“A
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