Wild West of the Heart
SEVENTY

"Have this" Deborah stripped off her cardigan, wrapping it around Fiyin. She hadn't said a word about Nathaniel nor the drugs. Though she gave off a weird vibe, she just would never judge Fiyin. And whatever decisions she would make because she was one of the few people that actually knew why she did the things she did.

Her hands tied the sleeves of the cardigan in a knot around her waist and Fi sucked her stomach to hold it. Deb held the stained sheets in her hands, and although it was very little, she couldn't risk the nurse asking questions. Fiyin was silent as well, having not much to say.

"Hey" Deb said, an inch away from her. Her eyes measured with hers since there wasn't that much difference in their heights. Fi hummed, looking away with the guilt. "Are you doing okay?" Deb asked.

She nodded, her eyes a sore red and roughness in the back of her throat. "Yes" She croaked. And even though Deb knew that was a lie, she didn't push.

"Want to come over later?" She took a step back. leaning against the bag she'd stuffed the sheets into and Fiyin sucked her teeth. "I got stuff to do" She lied again and all Deb did was nod.

"Well at least tell me you're ready for the english presentation later today?" She asked and Fi scoffed. "Which book are we summarizing?" She scratched the back of her head and Deb rolled her eyes. "I'm joking. I'm joking" Fiyin's voice cracked as her hands rested against her shoulders. She pulled away slowly, realizing how intimate that was. And she reached for her school bag across the bed. "It's just noon and it feels like two days" Fi said as Deb kicked open the door. She halted before she passed. "You sure you're good?" At least, she hoped that Fiyin would tell her the truth- that she saw her as someone she could always bring her problems to, rather than drown them in pills like her father did. But she nodded, a smile over his lips. "I'm okay now, Deb" She muttered. "Thanks" Their fingers brushed together. "Anytime"

-

Rushell had a small publication house on the outskirts of town, the ghetto-places were cassettes and CD's hung from electricity wires. And there were little brown kiosks by the side of the road that belonged to mallams who'd go off to pray in pairs at exactly five in the evening.

It was places like these that didn't make Lagos seem as bad, as bustling and industrious. There were communities within the state that relied solely on agricultural produce and had kings as leaders. Princes that would occasionally come back from countries like Cyprus and Ireland with gifts.

Those gifts would reach each villager and they'd express their gratitude by throwing festivals and ceremonies. Mira didn't think people like these had that much problems. They were kind and would welcome anyone with the widest arms. Naive, and generous would be an understatement.

They walked into the store with Rushell in front of them and once they'd gotten in, he offered them barely functioning chairs but they couldn't complain. He was a well learned man and you could tell that by his strongly worded vocabulary. He was also fluent in both Yoruba and Hausa, so much that communication with the villagers wasn't essentially a barrier. His sketchy line of work was why he was here, why he chose the quiet suburbs as his residence. No one knew him here- Or what he'd did.

In December 1967, Rushell printed one of the very first publication about the Civil War, in a time of heavy media censorship. It were his writings amongst a few others that had gone across Europe.

Countries like France, the United States would reach out to the person that seemed so brave in a time of war. He was established but he was only known as Anonymous to the whole world.

No one knew Rushell. No matter how much fame he'd gotten, it died down a little while later and he just stuck with the government exposés he was working on, revealing some of the corruption that went on behind closed doors. The few people that read anonymous loved him, but in a line of work that had to do exposing rich people secrets-

-he had alot more enemies. People that wanted to bring him down, and even end him. In 1999, he retired here, taking a break because for once, the country seemed good. There was nothing to write about, no shady dealings, no embezzlement.

And ever since then, Anonymous was quieted. Only now seeing an opportunity to rise from the ashes. He stared at the single paper Silva had presented him with and he stroked his chin.

He was a fairly tall man, a sun-burned yellow in complexion and he was in a traditional attire that was agbada. He rested back in his seat, silent for the past ten minutes. "And this is real?"

"What?" Silva sat forward. "You're sure this is real?" Rushell repeated and Mira nodded firmly. "I would assume accusations like this would come with pictures-" He paused. "I'm afraid there are no pictures. But i can tell you, i've been there. I can tell you that i've seen what the ward looks like. And i know one person in there, and one person that has died of the disease. I couldn't get pictures because we had to surrender our phones by the door-"

"It's a blatant attempt by the government to conceal what is going on. And Dare told me this sort of thing is what you do" Silva exhaled. "What you've been doing for years" He nodded proudly.

"The people look to Anonymous and they believe whatever you read. Because of the sort of foundation i've built for my company. That's why i ask if you're sure about this" Rushell took off his glasses, placing it to the table. "One hundred percent" Silva matched the sternness in his gaze.

"And you're as well, you can take on something like this?" Mira felt the need to ask. Rushell had a pretty convincing smirk. "I love a new challenge" He said, looking below at the title of the article. AIDS IS REAL.

-

"I feel a book like the Pride of Gypsies where a woman is anything but the traditional housewife really paves a way for independent storytelling. We see Jemma take on cases more than her and even when you think she's in danger or you think it's not going to end well for her, she surprises you "

Fatima walked at the very first row, narrating the summary to the fourth book of the session. Simi, her partner had gone ahead to prepare a slideshow for the characters and even aesthetic mood boards and Miss Coker smiled, impressed at how literal they had taken the word fun at start of the term.

"Having it under control" Simi whispered and they burst out laughing, enjoying each other's company on the make believe stage. In a class about ten of them, their voices filled the room and it was hard for anyone to complain about their voices being low or that they couldn't hear them.

It was why when Obi looked to his side to see Ab, he realized he had no excuse. Abdul was focused on the book he'd chosen then, which unsurprisingly was Amebo.

The only thing now, was that he had to make a partner out of someone he wasn't speaking with.

"I find stories like this very inspiring" Simi stepped forward. "Stories other than the traditional boy meets goodgirl, girl hates boy, boy hates girl but falls in love at the very end. Or like Fatima said, the housewife one" She laughed.

"I find characters like Jemma inspiring because it shows a woman can exist outside of a love story or having a relationship arc. That's my take, and the end when she walks off into the sunset by herself" She kissed the tip of her fingers. "Top tier

66

"I look forward to more books like this, Miss Coker" Fatima said, rounding up before walking to her seat. There was a low applause as the projector turned off and the teacher stepped forward.

"That was impressive. Although you didn't ask for questions-" There was a chuckle before Simi stood. "Hold on, hold on. We'll hold it off till the end. I feel they're the best we've seen so far" Coker said, stretching out her arms. "Don't you think?"

Obi was restive in his seat the very moment he made eye contact with Ayo from across the class. His eyes went to Abdul who sat back in his chair before he turned away, hoping they were the last.

"For the next" Coker looked to the very front row and Fiyin sighed. "We have Deborah and Bamidele as they come up to summarize their book, the great Centurion-" They was barely an applause as Obi refrained from making eye contact with her.

They walked to the front of the class as she swung nervously, Deborah whispered. "You've got this"

-

Ola rested against the railings, letting the winds blow right into his face. He enjoyed moments like these when he was by himself. In his own thoughts.

But soon, he heard approaching steps behind him.

Now he was free during literature so he had an abundance of time, time he could very well use to get some writing done if he didn't such a block.

"Hey" He heard a feminine voice call him from behind and he looked to see Bade, clinging unto the railings next to him. She squinted her eyes because of the sun and he chuckled lightly.

"What are you doing here?" He asked and she turned her back, facing him. "Skipped class. I'm done anyways" She had a grin across her face as she reached for the collar of his shirt. "So Johnsons huh?" She said and he scoffed. "If you're here to see me as competition, i suggest you just turn around" He joked and she laughed softly. "No, not at all—"

"I can never see you as competition"

"And i'll say the same" They shared an intense eye contact before he looked over in the center of the school. "Didn't even know you signed up. I knew someone did but not you" He squinted his eyes as well and she let out a chuckle. So soft, and giggly like how she was around him.

"Well, i consider myself a poet on the side. Though my father reeks at such thoughts" She laughed and Ola looked to her. "Same but my mother honestly"

"Naa she doesn't really have a problem like that" Bade replied as she rested her back. Silence fell between them for a while before she asked. "What does she want for you then?" "Medicine"

"See it's not as bad" She teased. He looked to her.

"You?"

"You wouldn't guess. Mechanical engineering. I fucking hate that course but my father-" She palmed her face. "I live to make him proud" She added and a little shrug moved Ola's shoulders. "Wish i could say the same" He replied. "Unlike you, nothing i ever do would make mine proud" He continued, the smile draining from both their faces.

"Even if i were to cure cancer at eighteen. Nothing"

"I'm so sorry" She felt obliged to say and he scoffed lightly. "It's not your fault. It's mine" He said, looking over the balcony. "Had it been i wasn't such a burden to everyone" Ola recalled the past few weeks in that very moment, remembering his fight with his mother, and Obi. And Nathaniel. Fiyin.

"I think not" Bade reached for his shoulders, though he was slightly taller than she was. "I think you're a good person. No one would think that" She said no nicely, like she'd actually known him.

And he felt his heart crumble at her touch. He was fazed, how she'd seemed so invincible to him up until that very moment.

"I don't think i am" He summarized his entire life struggles in that one sentence. "Well fuck you" She teased and they burst laughing, as if he didn't have tears in his eyes. "Everything's falling apart and i don't know why but i can't do anything to fix it-"

He hit his hand against the metal, shielding his moist eyes from her. He felt vulnerable in that second, as if all the emotions he had been bottling up finally poured out. "I was such a fixer" He said.

"Good thing you don't have to be" She whispered and he looked to her. Her hands went down his back, soothing him in the empty hallway. "Things do fall apart before they fall into place" Bade replied.

"You know where that's from?" She asked and he shrugged. "That one famous Nigerian book" He scoffed and she chuckled. "You're not much of a reader as you are a writer" She teased. "That's a fair advantage for me" She continued and he sighed.

"I'm even rooting for you" He choked and she turned away from him, facing below the story building too. "I screwed up-" Ola whispered.

"Big time"

"Then make amends. That's the thing about being a teenager, you have time now to screw up all you want. But you make amends and you learn from it"

"Besides i don't think it could be that bad" A smirk appeared on her lips as Ola looked to him, mucor in his nose and he was red from embarrassment.

She pulled away from him with the grin that never left her face. "Goodluck" She nudged his arm and Ola scoffed, covering half his face with a tissue. And when he opened his eyes, she was gone.

His shoulders fell as he stood in the now empty corridors, her voice echoing back- Make amends.

To be continued...