Chapter 2 THE PICKPOCKET AT AGRIC BUS STOP

THE PICKPOCKET AT AGRIC BUS STOP

Helen's persistent murmurs the next day itched Maranna's ears so well that she couldn't grasp some vital words from a tv program she watched. But Maranna avoided saying a word, or Helen would willingly pour a good dose of her frustrations on her. All she had to do was cross her legs and fix her eyes on the television.

"Once again, thanks for spoiling my yesterday," Helen said, standing before her with a bag containing the right attachments.

Maranna ignored her and focused on the television. Helen gnarred and left. Maranna sat to hear the squeaky sounds of the gate's hinges, then a bang, signifying Helen was out. She quickly kept the remote control and rested her eyes on the lobby door.

The lobby was a dark passageway with three doors fixed to one side. Maranna opened the door that led to Helen's room and got circumscribed by a cold sensation. There was an open wall above Helen's wardrobe from where Maranna could see shoes and other miscellaneous items. Maranna stood on a plastic chair and rummaged through the shoes, empty insecticide containers, and pieces of papers to check if she could feel a book. When she couldn't find any, she got down and opened one arm of the wardrobe. She rubbed her hands around and deep inside the base of the wardrobe until she hit something that felt like a book. She took it out and read the title.

"Mystery of The Higgs Troika." Sounded strange, but seemed interesting to her. She opened the first page, but saw nothing. She opened the second, nothing. Third...tenth...fifteenth. Still nothing. But, when she opened the sixteenth page, she saw a word boldly written in black ink -- GET. She recoiled, thinking it was a subtle guide to something. She flipped the next six pages and the whole thing read -- GET OUT OF MY ROOM!!! Maranna quivered and the book slipped off her hand.

"Yes, you read it right," Helen said from the doorway. "Now." She snapped her fingers. "Do as the book has instructed."

Maranna stood in knee-shaking fright, wondering how Helen knew she had gone to search her room, or what brought her back to the house, or how she even managed to clear off all the characters from a book to fix hers. She began to fear the person standing in front of the doorway, she doubted it was her sister.

"Leave this room, now!" Helen said.

Maranna found Helen's presence at the doorway frightening and harmful. She couldn't pass through that way. She turned to the window, as though it were possible to leave through the window.

"Now I see the hair cream I should have taken to the salon slipped off my mind for a good reason. I knew I would see you doing something stupid," Helen said. "What are you still doing here? I've got a lighter in my drawer, I could gas you with it right now." She left the doorway for the drawer beside her bed.

Maranna saw the free doorway and ran out.

She came out of the gate with heavy breaths. In a few minutes, the gate squeaked. She quickly ran off and hid behind the bus, watching Helen walk out. She took a deep sigh, but felt a warm touch on her shoulder.

"Hei!" She turned around.

What she saw turned out to be more frightening than Helen. It was the woman in the ankara boubou. She yelped and began walking backwards.

"You rejected our letter, young lady, would you reject a full-fledged individual standing before you?" The lady said, pushing the crotch of her glasses.

"I don't know you, and I don't want to," Maranna said.

The lady laughed and began walking towards her. "You are scared of me because you don't see the ribbons. Means I should equally be scared of you, because I don't see any, too."

Maranna swallowed hard. "I don't like people without the ribbons," she said. "I know one, and he doesn't seem nice."

"If everyone without the ribbons were bad, then check yourself. But if you feel you are good, why think I am bad?" She said. "Anyways, the person you talk of -- that doesn't seem nice -- was one of my minors." She took off her glasses. "Yes, he is quite -- wilful. He left us for some reasons."

"Your minors," Maranna said. "What are you talking about, woman?"

"The month of July begins a new cycle," she said. "Prior to this period, I got a hint of a new minor, and I went in search. Minors play the Alfe-Bee match with what they see. Tell me. Aren't you tired of seeing just -- ribbons, everywhere you go? Haven't you thought of knowing what those things are and how to make them be at your service?"

Maranna stood still.

"There are just a few of us around, baby, don't be left out. It's all fun when you begin to use them."

"Yes, I really wish to know what the sickening ribbons are all about. But, I just can't connect with you so fast." She paused to rub her temples. "And what are all these terms you're using? Minors --" She looked up to recall the next one. "-- Alfe-Bee match?"

"The first is something you'd know at my place," she said. "For Alfe-Bee, it is something you must play, as well as everyone on Earth who's life is tangled with sights of ribbons here and there."

"You run a casino or something?" Maranna asked.

"You play Alfe-Bee with the ribbons you see, a racket and the Bee," she said.

"A racket and the Bee? This confusion is pissing," Maranna said

"Be my minor first," the lady said. "It is the ribbons you see, so I just can't let you be."

Maranna noticed she mostly talked in rhymes. She stared at her, muttering to herself.

"You seem to know Moshood well. I want to ask something," Maranna said.

"Yes, go on."

"There's something about Moshood I don't seem to get. He visits my sister almost on daily basis, and before he leaves, he leaves her with one or two books -- weird books with weird names -- and Helen forbids me from laying a finger on any of them."

"Moshood absconded with those books from the Monsoid Infonix Institute. Other minors told me so when they returned from the institute," she said. "But I don't know his intentions -- I don't see his ribbons."

"The Monsoid Infonix Institute?" Maranna said. "I learnt he returned from a holiday with the books, was it from an Institute?"

"Yes."

"Haven't heard of such institute before. When was it built?"

"I've told you how to get all your answers, little one. Come with me. Be my minor."

"Wait," she said. "The ribbons are means through which you see people's intentions?"

"Be my minor and see no need to ask these funny questions," she said.

"But, I can't come with you." She pointed to the gate.

"What do you gain by staying in that house? Being at the receiving end when your sister throws tantrums," she said. "And almost getting gassed."

Maranna's jaw dropped. "You heard the fight between I and my sister?"

"Like I said, be my minor and you won't have a need for these funny questions. I have a nice car parked there. You join me to the Alfe-Bee field and see your mates there." She pointed to a black Lexus SUV at the other side of the lane.

Maranna looked at it.

"Where do you stay?" Maranna asked.

The woman smiled, about to give an answer, but Maranna spoke again. "And don't think it's because of the car, though."

"Oh, no, I wouldn't think that. Professor Adighibe has flashier ones."

"You know my dad, how?"

"Be my minor and you will have no need for --"

"Okay, okay. I'm in," she said. "As far as I would spend a whole day free of Helen's troubles."

"Alfe-Bee, you have a newbie." She held Maranna's hand and took her to the vehicle.

She lived at the far end of Lawson Street; a stately street flanked by arrays of grandiose buildings and masquerade trees, with good-looking men and women doing morning exercises.

She arrived at the end of the street, which was totally blocked by an array of tall masquerade trees with leaves so dense that their trunks were almost hidden. She parked beside one of the masquerade trees.

Maranna gazed. "Is this the place?"

"Let's get down first." She got down, but Maranna still sat inside the car, checking for a structure behind the trees.

"You won't see anything where you are, young lady," she said to her.

Maranna took her eyes off and got down from the car.

They entered a thin space between two masquerade trees and a dense matrix of masquerade trees opened before them. It was like a plantation of masquerade trees; dense, tall, and concealing. Maranna rubbed her skin against the leaves from time to time. At times, using her hand to push aside some drooping branches that grazed her eyes.

"Please, can I know where you are taking me to? At least," Maranna said.

"The Alfe-Bee field, of course," she said.

"You never told me what the place looks like, we just keep bumping into leaves without having a break," she said.

"The break is right in front of you." She pointed.

"Where?"

The lady parted the branches of two masquerade trees, and a wide, grassy field, surrounded by masquerade trees, opened before them. Maranna's gaze swept along the field's circumference, and she saw an ascending mini stand sitting majestically.

Her eyes popped out when they came out to the airy field, which had goal nets on four cardinal points. The sight, coupled with the wafts of air that swayed along, made her inwardly happy. What fascinated her most were the people she saw there, moving with playful but odd vibes. Maranna sensed it was an unusual kind of game.

She saw a boy, who seemed a bit older than her, standing in the middle of the field with eyes closed, and the ribbons above his head were in fluttering action. She saw two others in ankara wears and sunglasses, jumping in and out of the air with a racket and a blue ball sized like a tightened fist. It seemed the game involved getting the ball and dashing it into any of the goal nets.

"You haven't seen anything yet," the lady called Maranna's attention.

Maranna turned to her. "That game seems interesting. Is it what you call Alfe-Bee?"

"It's a bit rough. Some rules need not be taken for granted. Let's walk."

They approached the middle of the field and the kids jumped out of the air and stood still, staring at both of them. The one with the ribbons on his head opened his eyes. He was good-looking, having the facial looks of the woman, but he had no birthmarks below his eye. Maranna thought he might be her son.

"I never told you guys to quit the training," the lady said to them. "What have you done so far, Bala? from which region did you pick the ball?"

"The region of illusion-forms, Mamadiya. I hate there forever," He said, his eyes fixed on Maranna.

Maranna recognized him by his adjoined brows. His style of response complemented his looks; he sounded toxic.

"The region of illusion-forms," Maranna said quietly. It sounded eerie to her.

"I know what it feels like in there," the lady said.

"Isn't as spooky as the grotesque-form region," the young girl said.

Maranna recognized her, too. She looked a little smaller than the previous day. Her voice was a little deep.

"Yes, that, too," the lady said. "But you all need to be careful. Always remember to do the needful when those hideous creatures get hostile. And, as well, don't misplace your glasses."

From what Maranna had heard so far -- the names of the regions and the instructions that needed to be followed while traversing them -- it seemed learning and mastering the game would be a kind of rocket science.

"You all can see, we've got a new one." She placed her palm on Maranna's shoulder.

"And real beautiful," the boy with the ribbons said, bobbing his brows at her.

"Same thing you said when Uwa arrived," the bald boy said.

"You all need to continue your training," Mamadiya said. "A proper introduction would start later." She turned to the boy with the ribbons. "Koko, hope you aren't tired yet."

"Not really, mommy," he said. "There's someone I need to win this game." He wasn't in the Ankara outfit; he was in a singlet and a pair of jean trousers.

"Good to hear, Koko. But, please, don't hope for just one person. The front leg to the Infonix Portal must be given to one who truly merits it."

"Infonix Portal?" Maranna said to herself. She had heard a lot of strange terms for the day.

"And who is it you want to win?" The bald boy asked.

"I've changed my mind. I no more support anyone," Koko said.

"Now, return." The lady held Maranna's hand and took her away.

Maranna and the lady entered the masquerade trees in front, and to Maranna's surprise, it didn't take a minute to come out to a little compound where a humble bungalow stood. Beside it was a thatched shed, and at the other side was a dwarfed coconut tree.

Maranna wasn't gripped by the awe she expected when she got in. The parlor was almost empty, except for a brown settee that faced a hanging plasma television. Maranna guessed she just built the apartment.

"Have a seat." The lady gestured to the settee and walked out.

In a few minutes, Maranna heard the dull thud of a refrigerator, and the lady placed a plate containing a banana bunch before her.

"Thank you so much, ma'am. So much because I probably can't finish this," she said and giggled.

The lady laughed and sat beside her. She was without the glasses.

"Call me Mamadiya," she said to her.

"Mamadiya." Maranna rolled her eyes. "What sort of name is that?"

"Mamadiya, meaning mama is around. I thought you were an Igbo woman."

"Oh, oh, now it makes sense. I thought it was just a fabricated name. Sounded out of place to me, Sorry." She pulled one from the bunch.

"I chose not to introduce you yet to your colleagues until I have shown you a few things, so you wouldn't sound too naive to them," Mamadiya said.

"I'm still fascinated about the game, it looks like something I would love to take part in," Maranna said.

"Oh, really?"

"You don't know much of me, do you?" Maranna said.

Mamadiya laughed. "Well, that game is not just jumping into the air and emerging with a ball in your racket. It requires swift calculations, smart navigations, quick reactions, and brevity."

Maranna munched speechlessly.

"In a clipped form, you enter and exit regions," Mamadiya said.

"Interesting," Maranna said. "How do they get in those regions? I just see them jumping in and out of the air."

"Not until you have done yourself a favor by seeing into those ribbons."

"The ribbons are gateways to the regions?" Maranna asked.

Mamadiya took up the remote control from the table and put on the television. It displayed the NTA news channel. A man and a lady discussed on a crucial topic -- Inefficiency in National Power Supply. The woman held a few sheets of papers in her hand, throwing questions at the man, and he would look up for a few seconds and answer. Maranna saw their ribbons fluttering rapidly, and those of the man's were faster.

"You see the ribbons?" Mamadiya asked her.

"Pretty fast," Maranna said.

"Could you tell the difference between their ribbons?" Mamadiya asked.

She peered at the screen. "The man's own is faster."

"Why is it so?"

Maranna took one more glance. "I don't know."

"His is faster because he is straining his mind to think. He thinks before giving a reply. The ribbons are simply a physical image of what thoughts look like."

"I see his thoughts right now?" Maranna said with a faltering smile.

"Seeing just ribbons is equivalent to a question. If you don't see answers in that question, then you have something to bother about." She got up. "Wait here."

She came out a minute later, wearing the familiar glasses. She sat down and paused the news when the man was about giving an answer. She spoke a few words and played back the news. Maranna heard the man say exactly what Mamadiya had said.

"Oh, wow!" Maranna bounced on the couch. "How did you do it? Please, please, tell me."

"I did it with the help of my glasses. With it, I see the thoughts like I'm watching TV."

"Please, can I see?"

Mamadiya laughed. "I won't share my smoke glasses with another."

"Really?" Maranna said.

"Some things you don't want to see," she said. "My own glasses are a little bit different from the ones my minors use out there. That was why I was able to see a lot of details about you through your sister's ribbons."

Maranna was left dumbfounded.

She smiled. "Come with me."

She led Maranna into an air-conditioned room lit by florescent lights. On the walls of the room were several pictures of weird beings, figures, and places.

Maranna walked in slowly, gazing around the room with a heart full of questions. The ones that caught her attention the most were the outlandish faces she saw; beings of exotic looks. The women were dressed in fitting ankara gowns of distinguished designs and colors. Their hairstyles were uncanny; thick, glossy threads spun into lengthy spikes around their heads. Their birthmarks, which formed a circle around their left eyes, were bold and thick, and their lips were colored in black. They looked eerily beautiful to Maranna; a beauty that could invoke fear and admiration at once.

The men, on the other hand, had dreadlocks that poured down their shoulders, and they had the circular birthmarks, too. They looked huge and muscular, and their ankara wears -- tight-fitting shirts and trousers -- looked good on them. Maranna felt uncomfortable looking at the pictures; their eyes were abnormally large, and she could sense them blinking at her. She also took glances at other beings with uncanny expressions.

"Who are these people?" Maranna asked.

"I call this place the Infonix Hall," Mamadiya said. "Most of the people you see are known as alphenes; a race of preternatural beings who's specialties lie in weaving ribbons that convey thoughts, making living thought-forms off it. I'm sure you must have heard of thought-forms."

She walked to a part of the wall where pictures of people that looked like humans were hung. They had the familiar three dots below their eyes. "When you talk of the bridge between the human race and the alphene race, you see there are just a few of us. We are alfes. We seem not to possess thought ribbons, but we do. The alphenes see them."

"These here are alfes?" Maranna made a sweeping gesture along the pictures.

"You, as well, are one," she said. "Most of the alfes you see in these frames are alfe instructors like me. We prepare minors for the Monsoid Infonix Institute. Each of them inhabits an extraterrestrial planet."

"The institute sounds like one I'd love to be in," she said. "Are there any exams taken to get in?"

"Hold your horses for now," Mamadiya said. "The alphenes are the students there. Alfes like you from various planets converge at the Monsoid Infonix Institute to serve a purpose you would know in a jiffy."

She began naming each of the alfe instructors and the planets they came from. They were about five of them, but she skipped one; a middle-aged man with a wooly, brown hair, grinning. Maranna called her attention to it, but she ignored and delved into the next topic.

"Those alfe instructors prepare their minors for the institute," she said. "The roles alfes like you play in the institute is to provide emergency ribbons when they are needed by the alphenes for practical purposes, or when a particular kind of thought-form is needed by a department or a faculty."

"I see," Maranna said.

She led Maranna to the adjacent wall. The wall had humanoids of varying shapes and sizes, looks and demeanors; both scary and pleasing.

"When we ardently think of something, they leave our minds in form of ribbons into the world of thought-forms. When the alphenes weave the thought ribbons, these are the outcomes. They are called thought-forms." She swept her hand along. "There's one I like -- Hasla -- he birthed the electricity you enjoy today." She pointed up at an image of a humanoid with white, flowing hair and white eyes, covered in electrical discharges.

"Thought-forms," Maranna said. "These are full-fledged creatures. How do the alphenes weave these things? With giant needles or what?"

Mamadiya smiled. "They use their hair."

Maranna glimpsed at the pictures of the alphenes. "How?"

"Don't wish to spend the whole day explaining how they weave with their hair. You'd see it yourself."

Maranna moped at her for a while. "Okay," she said.

She took Maranna to another array of pictures where she could see landscapes, meadows, and grandiose buildings.

"The world of thought-forms is a vast place, having regions, settlements and thousands of schools and institutes, of which the Monsoid Infonix Institute is one. In there, alphenes learn and teach the art of weaving thoughts to make thought-forms."

"Alphenes need to learn the art of weaving before they could bring thoughts to life?" Maranna said.

"Alphenes are born with an inherent gift of weaving, especially mild ribbons like that of alfes'. But when it comes to weaving impulsive ribbons like that of humans', they need to be schooled on it."

"Interesting," Maranna said.

"At the end of each year, each faculty in the institute embarks on a project that would yield a unique thought-form which would be exhibited during the Monsoid End-Of-Year Ceremony. And the faculty with the best of bests wins an award."

"Things sound thrilling every passing minute," Maranna said with a smile.

Mamadiya faced her. "Like I said earlier, we are faced with a new cycle; a period in the mid-days of July, whereby the Infonix region readies itself to accept alfes coming from distinguished planets. The Monsoid Infonix Institute accepts a set of six planets. Other institutes could accept more or less." She shrugged her shoulders. "When a new cycle comes, the portal to the Infonix region could be opened through a mechanism called Aether Flexing. And this is achieved by playing Alfe-Bee. It's played universally."

"And after that we meet people from other planets in the institute," Maranna said.

"Rightly pinned," Mamadiya said. "Time here runs differently from time in the world of thought-forms. A year there comprises of seven months, and spending a year there equals spending the months of July and August here."

"Intriguing," Maranna said.

"After each academic year, they go on a five-year vacation --"

"That's about --" Maranna looked up, running her eyes, "-- thirty-five months they spend at home."

"Smart of you," Mamadiya said. "And when they're done another cycle opens."

"And we visit once again," Maranna said.

Mamadiya placed a palm on her shoulder. "You will participate in the Alfe-Bee match coming up in two weeks' time after a brief training tomorrow. If you don't fail to make it here tomorrow, you would see how it's being done."

"Can't wait," Maranna said.

"So, tomorrow, the training starts. One of my colleagues, Karibi; a retired alfe, comes around during every tournament to play the role of a referee. He's over forty, and he's still super-active. The game is nothing to be feared, and it's not so hard to learn."

"No matter how dangerous the game is, I'd love to play," she said. "I want to have a feel of jumping in and out of the air."

Mamadiya laughed. "You really don't know where they jump into, do you?"

She paused to think. "The regions?"

"You don't seem sure of your answer," Mamadiya said. "You'd learn and have a try tomorrow."

"Sounds like fun," Maranna said. "Wish I could start today."

"Today?" Mamadiya said. "You so are not prepared dear."

"How?"

"The first thing you want to master before playing Alfe-Bee is seeing into thought-ribbons. Can you do that?"

"No," she hesitatingly replied.

"Then you need to learn that before delving into complex issues." She walked to a refrigerator standing close to the door and took out a pair of dark glasses.

"These are smoke glasses. They enable you see into thoughts." She gave it to her.

Maranna put it on and looked around the room. The lights in the room lost their glares, appearing dim.

"I could see thoughts like this?" She said.

"You know, the ribbons are glossy. In that state you see nothing in them. You begin by making them matte."

"Matte," Maranna said. "What's matte?"

"Dull -- not reflective of light -- dull."

"Oh, now I get," she said.

"We would need to do some practicals outdoors, after which we return here and place back the glasses."

"Thought I'd be taking it home?"

Mamadiya stared at her. "Let's hit the streets now."

"Fine," Maranna said.

Mamadiya drove to a busy and bustling area where a bus stop was situated and parked a meter from the bus stop. She turned to Maranna.

"This is Agric bus stop. We need to do something serious here."

Maranna nodded. "Okay."

"I didn't tell you that seeing through the glasses alone shows you nothing," Mamadiya said. "To see the images, you focus on the ribbons with ardor and dim your eyes gradually. At a critical point, you see the images."

"Okay." Maranna nodded impatiently.

"That's good," she said. "Look at that man in a brown T-shirt and jean trousers. You see him?" She pointed.

Maranna peered through the windscreen. "Yes, I see him."

"Good." Mamadiya thumbed-up. "His ribbons are fast. Tell me what you see there."

Maranna dimmed her eyes until his ribbons dissolved into moving images of him pulling out a smart phone from the bag of a young man in front of him. The young man in front hung a backpack on one shoulder, probably waiting for a bus. She saw the pickpocket restlessly tarrying around the young man. Maranna widened her eyes immediately and turned to Mamadiya.

"He wants to steal something from the young man with a schoolbag."

Mamadiya smiled. "We have some catching to do. Let's get down."

"Wait, we are going to catch him?" Maranna said.

"Just come down. I know how to do this." She opened the door and got down.

Maranna came down, too.

Mamadiya and Maranna walked close to the bus stop and stood behind a hard-looking guy with rough markings on his arms. Mamadiya attempted to tap him, but Maranna held her hand.

"Why him?" She said.

Mamadiya laughed. "Men like this could be very polite. You only anger them if you are in need of trouble." She faced the man and tapped him. "Bia, nna, how are you?"

The man turned around. "Ah, mommy good afternoon ma, anything for your boy?"

Mamadiya glanced at Maranna and smiled. "See that man there." She pointed to the pickpocket. "Watch him, he wants to steal something from that boy."

"Haa." The man turned to see the pickpocket scratching the back of his head and looking around with his bulgy eyes.

The young man quickly went close to the pickpocket and pretended to look elsewhere. He called three other men and alerted them silently. Gradually, everyone got the message of what was about happening, while Mamadiya and Maranna folded their arms watching.

The pickpocket gently pulled the zip of the bag and dipped his hand, pulling out a sizeable packet. At that point, someone held his hand and raised an alarm. The whole place got rowdy immediately. People scurried towards the theft scene to see the pickpocket already receiving beatings and lethal punches from the boys around, after the owner of the phone had been handed back his phone. The owner hung his bag on both shoulders and began pounding the man with his fists, amongst other blows he was receiving.

"I sense an escalation." Mamadiya turned to Maranna. "It's time to leave."

They got into the vehicle and drove off.