Eze sighed as he wrung out the mop in the bucket, watching the murky water swirl around.
As he moved to mop the hallway, he heard the familiar, light footsteps behind him. Without looking, he knew who it was.
"Wow, you are still going?"
He rolled his eyes. Anjola. Ever introspective she was.
"Could you help?" Eze grumbled, swiping the mop across the floor, leaving a slick trail. "Grab another mop, maybe I could finish faster."
Anjola leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, with a grin on her face. "Oh, but you look like you're enjoying yourself so much!."
Eze glanced at her, unimpressed. "Then leave. "
Anjola's smile widened. "In a free country like this?"
"Wrong country silly."
"Oh. Right."
He
"You know, Chinwe has been quite worried about you."
He shrugged. "I'm sure you are as well."
"I mean, obviously. I'm going out of my way to be here after all. I'm quite busy."
Eze raised an eyebrow. "Busy? Doing what, exactly?"
"Football."
He snorted, holding back a laugh.
"Oh now. You know the younger ones needed someone to show them how it's done."
"I'm pretty sure like more than half of them are better than you."
She hissed and crossed her arms in a playful manner.
"And you didn't even think to invite me?" Eze asked, feigning hurt, though he knew exactly why she hadn't. He hadn't exactly been 'present' these last few days.
Anjola shrugged, a hint of seriousness creeping into her tone. "You've been out of it, Eze. I figured you needed some time to yourself."
Eze paused, staring down at the mop as it dragged along the floor. She wasn't wrong. He had been distant, not just because of the training, but because... everything was heavier now. The kidnapping, whatever the soul harvesting is, the weight of Anansi's presence—it was wearing on him.
"I'm fine," he muttered, more to himself than to Anjola.
"Sure," Anjola replied, unconvinced. She stepped closer, watching him work. "But you know... we've all noticed. Chinwe, Bolu, even Joyce. You're not as sneaky as you think."
Eze felt a flicker of fear but swallowed it down. He couldn't let them in, not on this. "It's nothing. Just been tired, that's all."
"Are you sure? I hope you're not getting sadder or something."
"I'm ok, trust."
"Do you think I'm stupid or something?" Anjola said, though her expression softened a little. "I don't know what's happening to you, but...just... don't keep us out, okay? You're not the only one who's been through stuff. There's this strange feeling in the air. Like something monumental is going to happen. Try and...keep yourself safe."
There was a brief silence between them, the only sound being the faint slosh of the mop against the tiles. For a moment, Eze considered telling her. But the massive weight of forming in his head had stopped him. He gripped onto the mop harder, ignoring the pain.
He forced a smile. "Don't worry about me. I'm just behind on chores, that's all."
Anjola looked like she wanted to say more, but instead, she just gave him a light punch on the shoulder. "Whatever you say."
With that, she turned and walked off, leaving Eze alone once again with his thoughts—and his mop.
LATER...
Eze wrung out the mop for the last time and propped it against the wall. His shoulders ached, and his mind felt heavier than ever. The sound of laughter from the nearby playroom added some more of the weight.
He walked towards the noise. The room was alive with activity—some kids were stacking blocks, others were huddled around a well-worn football, and a few were deep into some drawing competition.
"Oh, it's Eze!" A one of the kids shouted.
"Eze, come play with us!" called one of the younger boys, Dare, his face already smeared with dust from the floor.
Eze smiled. "Not today, Dare. I just finished mopping, and I'm tired."
The group let out a collective groan of disappointment, but quickly got over it and went back to their activities. Eze wandered over to the block tower where a couple of the quieter kids were sitting. Chizitalu, a small girl with braided pigtails, was carefully balancing a block on top of a towering stack. She glanced at Eze briefly before returning her full attention to her task.
"You're getting pretty good at that," Eze said, crouching down beside her. "Think you can get it even taller?"
Chioma shrugged but kept working, the tower growing higher and higher.
On the other side of the room, Denzil sat cross-legged, away from the others. He was quiet—too quiet. The other children always seemed to be drawn to noise and energy, but Denzil... he had always been different.
Eze noticed the stillness and made his way over, sitting down next to him.
"Hey, Denzil," he said softly. "What are you drawing?"
Denzil didn't respond at first, just kept dragging his pencil in long, deliberate strokes across the paper. Eze leaned over to see what he was working on. The drawing wasn't like the usual chaotic scribbles from the other kids. Emeka had drawn a figure—a large, hulking figure with wide, staring eyes, and lightning surrounding him. Something about it felt... off.
"Who's that?" Eze asked, keeping his tone light.
Denzil finally spoke, his voice so quiet that Eze had to lean in to hear him. "He's... watching."
Eze frowned slightly, confused. "Who's watching?"
The boy didn't look up from his paper. "The big man... in the sky."
Eze blinked, taken aback. It wasn't like Denzil to say strange things like this. He was usually the shy, reserved one. But something about the way Denzil said it sent a chill down Eze's spine. He forced a smile, trying to shake off the odd feeling.
"Sounds like you've got a pretty wild imagination, Denzil," Eze said, ruffling the boy's hair. "Maybe you should show this drawing to Mr. Okafor, huh?"
He didn't respond. His hand kept moving, adding more detail to the figure—long arms, unnaturally long, reaching toward something Eze couldn't quite make out.
Before Eze could say anything else, Tofunmi ran up to him, tugging on his shirt. "Eze, come look! We built a tower taller than Bolu!"
Eze smiled, grateful for the distraction, and stood up. "Alright, alright, I'm coming."
He cast one last glance at Denzil, who was now coloring the sky in his drawing—a sky that wasn't blue, but dark, swirling gray. Something gnawed at Eze, but he pushed it down and focused on the other kids as they cheered about their new tower.
Later...
"Anansi, any clue who that guy was?"
"Nah."