"And God said, Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding seed, and the fruit tree yielding fruit after his kind, whose seed is in itself, upon the earth; and it was so."
Genesis 1:11 (King James Version)
Who was she?
That was a very good question.
Did she care enough to give an answer?
No.
You'd figure it out eventually anyway.
What she looked like?
She wasn't interested in answering that either.
...
Alright.
Black hair, brown eyes, tanned skin. Fill in the rest.
Height?
Tall enough.
Weight?
Did it exactly matter?
OK, for now, what was she doing?
Yeah, she could answer that, answer it quite naturally in fact, (Yes, the pun was intended— you can roll your eyes in peace now): searching. She was searching.
It was why she was currently walking round the busy streets of Lagos, following a lead that was fizzling out fast. Oh, and being followed herself. But shhh, it wouldn't be fun to let him know she knows that yet.
What was she searching for? Why? Should you call the police?
For the last question, yes, if it were happening to you. She had ways of taking care of herself. For the others... It was none of your business.
Alright, you've had your privileges. It was about time you got out of her head and went on with your day. Final question.
What was all this? How did it start?
She paused. Perhaps the better question would be: when did this all start?
Now that she thought about it—when did this all start?
She supposed it was the day when she'd made the mistake of thinking it would be easier to find a person than a portal to the end – or was it perhaps the beginning – of the world.
Now, she was four months smarter.
She veered off into a narrow side street and kept walking.
Nature didn't get it. Of all the places she could have possibly gone to, why here? Compared to the rest of the world, what was so great about some tiny island state chock full of more people than it had the space for, ready to give in on itself at any given moment? No offense.
The street opened up into a wider road of red sand lined with buildings and several small shops. Hands in the pocket of her coat, she crossed over to one and glanced at its number –seventeen.
She strolled along the sidewalk. At twenty-one, her heart hitched the teensiest bit, next was twenty-two and then next was, she let out a breath – twenty-four. Still the same.
There was no number twenty-three, hadn't been when she'd first come here three weeks ago. There wasn't even any odd space between the buildings, just a boring, convenient skip from twenty-two to twenty-four.
Whoever she asked, wherever she called, they all said it was probably just a mistake at the address office. The city did have its issues with those, but something, something deep down told her that wasn't the case here.
A head poked out of number twenty-four, a girl with hair tied into a bun, done so loosely that some braids still fell over her face, which was covered with streaks of flour. "Need somethi—Oh, it's just you again." She disappeared into her shop for a second then came out again, leaning against the door.
Nature wasn't surprised at her tone; she'd been one of the first people she'd pestered about the numbers. What had been her name again?
"Dami, right?"
Dami nodded, wiping her hands on a damp rag, "I suppose you'd be happy now. You were more upset about those numbers than we with the addresses ever were."
Hands clean, she glanced at Nature and her forehead crinkled, like she didn't expect to see she was frowning. "What? Didn't you see? We're number twenty-three now. Thought you'd be glad."
Nature wasn't glad, if anything, her frown deepened. Dami groaned, "Oh, don't tell me there's something else you're going to be a pain about."
"What do you mean?"
"The numbers, the numbers," she said, straining to get her point across, she looked more like she was trying to squeeze Nature into juice, "They came around and fixed them yesterday."
"They… fixed them?" Nature repeated.
Dami gave her a look that said are you blind? and grabbed Nature's arm to steer her to the front of the shop. One finger pointed to the green number tag, "Number twenty-three," then she turned to the next one, "Number twenty-four, see? And down it goes to twenty-five, twenty-six, all the way to the end. What else could you want?"
Nature didn't respond. Her eyes were on the deep green tag that definitely still read twenty-four, clear as day. She glanced at Dami – it didn't look like she was lying.
Then what could… Oh, of all the possible—
It was starting to get annoying.
She pulled her arm out of Dami's grip and nodded, "Yes, I see it now." She wasn't sure the girl believed her, but she shook her head anyway and went back inside to continue with her business.
Nature stared at the plastic tag, as if the printed four would somehow morph into a three when she wasn't looking. Finally, she turned and walked away.
Another one.
She'd just made it back to the side street she'd veered off from when she heard a crash behind her, like someone had just bumped into trashcans. She'd passed a few on the way. Sighing, she stopped; she'd forgotten about him. She may as well take care of it now.
"Hey," she called without turning, "Come out."
A few seconds of silence then the sound of footsteps shuffling out to the middle of the road. He stood a few paces behind her.
Good. At least he hadn't dragged it out.
She whirled around. Blue and white hoodie, black hair, skinny, a little on the short side and a blue backpack. She looked down, he wore a pair of dirty white sneakers that looked like they'd been scrubbed raw over a thousand times and counting, ready to give out at his next step.
Great, she was dealing with a teenager.
He scratched behind his ear sheepishly, looking a little uncomfortable at the examination. She reckoned surprise in his face and her eyes narrowed.
With the terrible job he was doing, she'd have been, well, blind not to have noticed him.
She was not. It had to be the first time in her life for the notion to be implied twice in one day—and she did not appreciate it.
"What business do you have with me?" The edge of her tone was considerably sharper.
He stopped his scratching and stood up a bit straighter at the question. His face fell, "You don't remember me?" he breathed quietly.
Nature scoffed. She was about to tell him to get lost, but her eyes regarded him a second time and wait— she actually felt something about him was a little… familiar.
She immediately didn't trust him.
"Who are you?" she demanded. "I will not ask a second time."
The boy's face went a shade whiter, but he stood rod straight, puffing out his chest and tightening his fists, looking her straight in the eyes.
"I—" he took a deep breath, and instead of answering her question, declared, "You're up to something, and I won't be letting you do as you please."
Nature was looked at him just as solemnly for a second, then she blinked, then a laugh tumbled out of her mouth. She couldn't help it; such bold words from a terrified face—he looked ridiculous. It had been a long time since she'd seen something like that. It was all she could do to keep from doubling over. A few seconds later she quietened and raised her head; all traces of mirth were gone. She had no intention of answering him playfully.
"Do you have any idea exactly who you're dealing with, insect?" The words carried to every corner of the street. Her eyes flashed with something sinister. A slight breeze rose and stirred the leaves that lay all over the street.
If the boy could have looked anymore afraid, he did, but he still managed to open his mouth, "I am perfectly aware, but my purpose remains."
He was brave, she'd give him that, if he was telling the truth. She doubted it— if he truly knew who she was: where was his respect, how could he dare open his mouth to even speak to her without addressing her as "my lady".
She would shove it all back into his face, of course—she saw what he was, underneath all that skin, and she loathed his kind, perhaps even more than humans.
"And what gives you the impression that you of all people have the right to stop me?"
He shook his head, "I do not speak of right, nor think I have it. I know I cannot stop you."
He knew what was good for him, she could accept that. She began turning away.
"But I can come with you."
She froze, her head snapping to him. He was really getting on her nerves.
"I refuse!" she spat. "Go back to where you came from." She continued on her way.
A moment later however, she heard his footsteps behind her. "Go back," she ordered without stopping.
He didn't. She went on a few steps, then stopped. "I spare you only because of the fact that you made me laugh. Now for the last time, go back." The tone was ice. It was no longer a command; it was a warning.
He maintained the same distance behind her, she didn't hear him slinking off or running away. She faced him again, a look of determination was set into his face, it masqueraded well as calm.
"Why do you not go?" she asked sharply. Her eyes bore into him.
"You cannot do much more than kill me," he stated plainly. He was a trembling mess, but his eyes—those eyes were set with something, something that was ready for any possibility, no matter how grim. "As long as I am alive, I come with you." Seems like he was fully resigned to the prospect of dying.
So be it then.
The wind picked up again, this time a furious current carrying along hundreds of leaves and twigs. He shielded himself with his arms, pitiful to say the least—but just when it was about to hit, it broke up into a thousand directions, scattering all around him.
Nature bent over, holding her head in her hands. The air around her had suddenly gone superheated, her vision almost turning completely white. What was happening? A dozen whispers filled the space around her. She couldn't make much out but finally, one line came, louder than the others.
"….no one shall harm this child…"
Nature gritted her teeth, rage clouding her mind. She knew that voice.
She remembered now. His courage finally made sense.
But her problem wasn't with him.
That brat!
She looked up at him slowly and he recoiled, she couldn't imagine how the hate in her eyes looked. Yet he stood his ground, not even averting his gaze.
She had lost this battle.
She straightened, ran a hand over her hair and exhaled deeply, fuming. She decided to ask one more time, though she already knew the answer, "You truly will not go?"
As expected, "You can do naught but kill me," he said. Nature almost laughed again, but not for the same reason.
Of course, he knew. He knew that she could not kill him.
But if all went well, she promised, that would change very soon.
She closed her eyes, trying her best to quell the turmoil in her chest. Then she began walking. Let the boy follow into his death if he wanted to.
Sure enough, she heard him following behind her.
Marcus. The blasted kid's name was Marcus.
After another few small streets, she turned a corner to a busy intersection, cars jampacked on a highway, street vendors calling out and hustling their goods and other pedestrians like them. She was considering losing him in the chaos when he shuffled up, breaching the distance he'd been maintaining, "Uh, where exactly are we going?"
Oh, so it was "we" now. She didn't remember accepting that.
"I'm going wherever I want. You can take a hike. Now shut up." The noise of the streets was bad enough, she didn't need a kid talking in her ear. She had to think.
He rubbed his head, "I was just going to say that we could take a taxi or something, if it's far." He pointed at one of the many yellow vehicles.
She glanced at him over her shoulder and wondered if he was just stupid. Like she would choose to walk all over the city for no reason.
"You said you know who I am," she said, one eyebrow raised, "Just imagine me in a taxi— What do you think would happen?"
It seemed to dawn on him then. His eyes widened and she nodded patronisingly. It wasn't just taxis either—motorcycles, buses, boats, trains, she didn't even dare think about an airplane. The best she could imagine was them stopping dead, anything more than that—she shuddered at the thought of it.
But that wasn't the focus here. The missing number twenty-three— it was the same thing with the warehouse with the disappearing goods that were really still there, the hotel with the extra room that nobody knew about. And the bus that got here from Ibadan—they'd run out of fuel in Abeokuta, and no one noticed till they reached the 3rd Mainland Bridge, and a couple of others too. Incidents so small, so harmless that you wouldn't notice if you weren't looking for it…
Something was messing with the humans' eyes.
Was she trying to send a message? Was it some sort of puzzle?
"Uh," she heard the boy say, "Would you at least tell me what you're going to do?"
"I will not."
"But maybe I could help," he suggested.
That made her turn around again, "Why would you want to help the person you came here to stop?" He'd sooner lead her down the wrong path, whether on purpose or not.
He pulled on the strap of his backpack and looked around, "Well, we've been standing here for a while now and –"
Why wouldn't he just drop it? Alright, fine. She might as well.
"I'm searching for Love," she confided.
The boy's face went slack, eyes widening and mouth almost falling open. Then he tried to play it off, rubbing the back of his head, "Oh!"
He rambled on, not looking at her face, "Well then, there are lots of places you could find love, not just— I mean, I'm not exactly the best in that department but it shouldn't be that hard, right--"
Wait, was he messing with her?
"A girl, you idiot," she snapped, "Love is a girl."
He faltered then, eyes opening even wider than before, almost popping out of his head, "W-wow! T-that's–" he squeaked then caught himself, "—a shock," he completed breathlessly.
She stared hard at him. He must be thinking something very stupid now. She kept forgetting he was an idiot. She stalked towards him.
"I-I don't judge," he said panicked, raising his hands in surrender, "I just didn't expect someone like you to—"
She pulled him by the neck of his hoodie and stared him in the eye, tone deadly serious, "Say one more word," she warned, "And I will throw you into oncoming traffic."
Let's see what would happen with his protection then. Maybe he'd bounce.
He gulped and stopped talking, deflating so much that she almost felt bad for treating him like that. Almost.
But, rather than falling completely silent, as if he were incapable of it, he murmured, "But either way, if it's love, it's best to think simple and straight forward in any regard, isn't it?"
She paused.
He… wasn't wrong about that. Especially when it came to her.
Still, she needed a hint or a sign, something. Anything was welcome. Her eyes scanned the ever-changing street, not focusing on anything in particular, while her mind raced.
What was she doing? She was back to square one, this was no place consider anything. She had to go back and take the time to think it over and decide what to do next. It would way too random to find something in the middle of–
A guy in faded ankara crossed to their side of the road holding a radio to his ear, smile freakishly wide.
—the road.
It was hot, polluted, and loud. What would make someone smile like that?
He passed by and her ears caught what he was listening to. No way.
Simple… and straightforward...
But wasn't that a little too straightforward?!
She couldn't believe it, it was ridiculous. But that was a good thing. If it made her question her senses, it was definitely her.
She shook her head and went up to him.
About an hour later, they came into a quieter section of town. Marcus may have gotten her reason, but it didn't keep him from complaining about the distance, whining about how his legs were going to fall off. Maybe the fatigue made him delirious, but he'd even tried to start a conversation; making small talk and going on and on about her accent, the city and everything until she'd glared at him to shut up. Once, while they were going through a relatively deserted strip, he actually managed to get himself caught on someone's fence – don't ask her how. She'd left him there obviously, but a few streets over, he somehow managed to catch up, sweaty and breathless from running.
It was impressive, in a pathetic sort of way.
She stopped in front of a faded brown high rise that seemed like it had been standing there a while, fitted with glass windows that you'd see on office buildings and an umbrella-like archway over its entrance and signboard next to it.
"This is it?" she heard Marcus mutter, "I just walked half my life off for a radio station?!"
"You're the one who wanted to come along," she shot back, but to be honest, her heart wasn't really in it. Time to find out if she was right.
She pushed the door open, leading to a reception-like area with cushion chairs and a lady sitting behind a desk. Nature didn't stop to take it all in though, and just directly kept on going through a door beside the desk.
Marcus struggled to keep up, almost getting left behind. "Uh, I don't think we can do this," he said worriedly. Nature had had enough of him for one day.
Sure enough, the lady got up and stretched out an arm, losing her smile from when they walked in, "Hey stop, you can't just go back there!"
Nature ignored her. The lady ran after them, she was about to put a hand on Nature's shoulder when she suddenly paused, then looked at her outstretched hand and the hall in confusion, "Huh? I thought someone went past me," she said and blinked, "Was it just the breeze?" She shook her head and went back, walking right by Marcus.
Nature could feel his wide-eyed gaze boring into her back. "What did you do?!" he whispered fiercely.
She didn't reply and continued to navigate the series of corridors and halls. In time, he would learn not to ask stupid questions. They reached a door that had a red "On Air" sign turned on. As they got close, she heard a cheerful voice through it saying. "…And that will be all for now. Bye!" The sign shut off.
Nature opened the door.
A girl sat at a table of complicated controls, frozen in the middle of taking off a headset, mouth slightly agape as she stared. She pulled it free of her dark brown hair and shot to her feet. She looked younger than Marcus did, wearing a cropped blue denim jacket over a top of faded pink and jeans rolled up at the ankles, along with socks and canvases, neatly laced up. A bracelet rested on her right wrist, a tiny silver heart hanging from it.
She hadn't changed one bit.
"Y-You—" the girl stammered, like she wasn't sure what to say. She fiddled with the heart pendant, biting her lip. Nature had prepared for rejection, even rage but nervousness… that was unsettling. She had a sudden thought—she couldn't be thinking about fulfilling that side of the deal now of all times, right? She'd pretend not to know her—it's what Nature would do.
Or worse, she might actually not know her.
Then the girl unfroze, like someone clicked her un-pause button, and yelled, "Nature!" Racing around the table, she pounced, wrapping her arms around her, and knocking the wind out of her. That's right, Nature remembered, this one's a hugger.
"Hello sister," she managed to say.
The girl released her, beaming. Without waiting for her to speak, she grabbed her hand and pulled into the hall, chirping excitedly about how long it had been and how they needed to catch up—
Then she saw Marcus.
Her eyes widened for a split second, then flashed.
"Reptilia!" Her arm shot out. In an instant, the bracelet melted into a bow of silver, stretching above her head to her knees. A trimmed pink ribbon streamed in the air at the top.
"Why have you come here?" Her hand pulled back on the string, though there was no arrow nocked.
Don't let that fool you, Nature thought. Well, it was nice knowing the kid.
Marcus yelped and put up his hands, looking ready to drop to his knees. As he stammered for a reply, he glanced at Nature for help.
Yeah, he had to be really desperate for that.
The girl's eyes darted between them.
She sneered inwardly, Coward, but raised a hand, "Peace, sister. I let him in here."
The girl seemed even more suspicious at that. She carefully squinted at him for a couple of seconds, then her face lit up.
"Marcus?" she gasped, "Is that you?" A second later, it was like the bow had never been there and she was hugging him just as hard as she did Nature.
She recognised him fast, Nature noted coolly. Was it just her then?
Now it was Marcus' turn to stammer, "Y-You remember me?!" Why did it sound like he was going to cry? That was exaggerating.
"Of course, I do," she said, patting his back. "There's no reason I wouldn't—I'm sorry I didn't sooner." She broke the hug but still had her hands on his shoulders.
Nature certainly agreed with that. She always remembered the most useless things.
The girl took them to a room along the corridor. It was slightly bigger than the broadcasting station, the floor fitted with colourful foam mats, the kind you could find in nurseries (they had to take off their shoes and Nature finally understood why the girl wore socks), and it had only a leather couch in the middle. Nature didn't think it could fit anything else—the place was filled with loads of flower bouquets—roses were by far the most— as well as boxes of all sizes. It wouldn't take anyone the stack of notecards neatly packed to one side to figure out they were gifts.
Marcus whistled quietly, "Someone's popular," he muttered under his breath.
The girl laughed and began clearing some space on the couch, "It's not really like that," she said, a little embarrassed.
Nature didn't much attention to their conversation, only wondering when the kid would eventually learn how good their hearing was. There was only one good thing about the room—the window seat. Where you could see the sky and feel the sun and get some of the precious little good air there still was in this world. She went over and sat there.
The girl glanced over but said nothing. She and Marcus settled on the couch.
"Like I said," Nature said from her perch, "We need to talk."
The girl picked up two boxes from the floor and passed one over then opened the other, it was full of chocolates. She put one in her mouth, offering some to Marcus. Nature frowned—did she just… ignore her?
"I think we can eat before getting into anything," she said calmly, seeing Nature's face, "It did take you a long time to get here." She gave her a pointed stare.
Then the box slipped out of her hand and tumbled onto Marcus.
Nature watched as she jumped out of her seat with a yell, apologizing and panicking. She started a frantic search for something to clean up with. She finally got a box of tissues out of a corner and began wiping.
She would never understand her.
Fair, rosy skin and bright brown eyes that made Nature want to give her sunglasses; it was like she sprang up from a garden. Surrounded by those pink roses and all the other flowers, she looked more like what you'd expect nature to look like than Nature herself, so much that it made her nose wrinkle.
A tiny goofball.
The Personification of Love.
And the one with the best chance of listening to her.