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I was back to earth before I could utter a word in response. My grandfather’s words still rang in my ears after I returned to reality. I couldn’t believe all I’d just heard. I considered the fact that I was an Eri a blessing, and since it explained the reveries and visions since I was a kid, I felt a greater sense of self than I had ever known in my life. That encounter was the first time I ever wondered if I would fulfill my purpose or if I even knew for sure what my purpose was on earth. I always knew that I wanted to be a big shot lawyer, but from what I learned in this visit, it may or may not have something to do with my purpose. Considering my mission as an Eri was tied directly to this purpose, I became extremely agitated. I didn’t want to be responsible for disrupting the balance in Luenah if I failed in accomplishing that mission, whatever it may be. From my understanding, doing so could also disrupt the balance on earth. I stopped short when I remembered the importance of the ‘exchange’ I was supposed to give, something I would only find out on the path to discovering my purpose. I shook my head to make sense of everything that was going on inside of it. Since my grandfather had mentioned I would understand in due time, I reminded myself to be patient. It was only then that I relaxed and got ready to celebrate turning eighteen.

Chapter Five

“COME IN,” I yelled after a loud knock on my door drew my attention from my thoughts. My meeting with Grandfather still clouding my senses, I pulled the covers over my shoulders and waited patiently to see who it was. I almost froze when Okem gingerly walked in, holding a bouquet he had picked from my grandmother’s garden with both hands, a cheerful smile plastered across his face. Looking dark and mysterious, his eyes bored through mine as though to savor the joy he knew his gift was bound to deliver. I had been suppressing feelings for him for a while—a fact I was confronted with during this encounter. The look he gave me, which I returned with equal fervor, was different from any I had ever shared with him, or with anyone else for that matter. It felt nice and safe. As he handed me the bouquet and kissed my cheeks, the butterflies in my stomach fluttered noiselessly as my body slowly warmed up. I was certain my face was red even though the coloring wouldn’t have been visible through my brown skin.

“Thank you, Okem,” I said, looking up at him.

“You’re welcome, my dear. Happy birthday to you! Wishing you many more blissful years.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, sniffing the flowers. “These are gorgeous.”

“Ona,” he called, startling me. “You’ve become truly beautiful,” he said. “Your eyes...”

“What about them?” I asked, wrinkling my nose.

“They’re the most gorgeous things I’ve ever seen. And those legs...”

“Okem stop!” I said, giggling.

“No problem. What I’d like you to know is when you’re older, and I’ve made something of myself, really made it, I’ll ask you to marry me.”

Wide-eyed, I laughed, turning my face away and pulling the covers over my head with my free hand.

Okem removed the covers and smiled at me, his eyes revealing so much tenderness and conviction at the same time. The combination of the two disarmed me.

“You’re serious?” I said, almost choking on my words.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Don’t you have to finish school first?”

“I know...I know,” he said in a serious tone and then chuckled softly as he took my hand and gently caressed it with his thumb. “You have to trust that I meant every word of it.”

I adjusted myself on the bed and discreetly rolled my eyes. My skin still a bit flushed, I sought to deflect his marriage chatter but words failed me.

“Anyway, what are we doing for your birthday?” Okem continued.

I let go of my bashfulness and looked up at the exceptionally handsome man standing next to me. His arms and square shoulders radiated strength, and he possessed a quiet confidence which made him even more attractive to me.  It was the first time I’d ever viewed him this way. As I continued to stare, he took the bouquet from my hand, and with purpose and authority, he walked towards the writing desk and placed it in an empty vase he saw sitting there. With his back turned away from me, I cracked my brain about this mysterious boy—no, man—that came into my life not even up to a decade ago. How mischievous he must be to talk to me about marriage. But there was nothing mischievous about the way he said it. And his smile afterwards? That floored me.

My mind flew to the first time Okem came to live with us. He was the strangest little thing I’d ever seen. I recalled how he used to fight the other kids—the bullies—who made fun of his clothes. And how all those insults didn’t stop him from wanting to hang around me all the time. With these differences between us—our status, birthright, and so on—the love we had for each other remained intact. With time, I viewed him differently from how other people saw him. He often told me he was a prince, and I remember making a paper crown for him using cereal boxes and watercolor. He wore it gallantly while we played. It was all fun and games for me, but Okem took those games seriously, and he got annoyed when I laughed at his impression of a prince.

Okem and I had remained close until I turned thirteen and my body started filling out. That was the year he turned sixteen. From then on, my grandmother began keeping a watchful eye on us. The day I saw my first period, she invited me to her room and made me sit right beside her on the bed.

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