Canine

It was a sunny morning in Tanke – a small district in the city of Ilorin, Kwara state. The harmattan had shown signs of its presence in recent days, as was its usual practice in November. The sun blushed that particular morning upon sighting her flattering visitor – the harmattan, as was evident by how brightly she shone that morning. Perhaps too brightly even. However, it would appear as though she might have chased away her suitor and any possibility of its return as the customary dryness and coldness of the area seemed to be lacking. A consequence of climate change perhaps, or the result of an impatient betrothed who has chased away her suitor. Whatever the case was, Helen had decided that it was far too hot a morning to travel. Sadly, her opinion rarely ever counted for anything in that house as she was barely over the age of sixteen at the time. The sound of alarm bells rang incessantly as Helen tried to stay asleep but to no avail. The moment, she was aware of her alarm, it was too late. She turned in her bed, hoping the alarms would give up soon, and she would be able to fall asleep, but she had predicted this much the night before when she was setting it. Her alarm was going nowhere. Grudgingly, she got up from her bed and dragged herself across to the bathroom. Her sleeping bags masked the irritation she felt as it dawned on her that she had to travel. It had become a customary practice for her and her family to relocate every year or two. This had happened ever since she lost her mum at the age of seven. Within that time, they moved a total of eight times. To her little sister Anya who was ten years of age, it might seem like just another trip. To Helen, however, it was the upheaval task of having to rebuild her life from scratch once more. She dragged her feet as she packed her clothes which were clearly too much to fit into her bag. No wrestling tactic she could think of, worked. From chock holds, to smackdowns, the clothes would just not fit in. And no, she was not a wrestling fan, but when you’ve moved as much as she did, the techniques would come in handy in packing clothes more efficiently. Or so she believed until that day. “I have space in her bag. I can help you fit in some of your hoodies since they take up much space,” her sister Anya said from the mouth of the door to her room. “Thank y…” Helen said but paused as she noticed the grin that was fighting hard to escape her face. And then she realised her end game. Without much thought, it would seem as though she was a caring little sister. But Anya was the closest thing to a devil incarnate. She had targeted her hoodies for a long time and the only reason she hadn’t stolen them was that it wasn’t her style. She would rather manipulate Helen into giving her, which she had failed mostly, or entirely considering she was still in possession of them. All she wanted was for Helen to give them to her and it was as good as hers. No way in hell would she fall for that trick. “Thank you, but it’ll fit,” Helen grunted as she jumped on her bag one more time. “Suit yourself. Daddy said we’re leaving in ten minutes. Anything you can’t carry, you’ll leave behind anyway. And guess who’ll be there to take care of them,” Anya goaded. And there it was. The smile that had been struggling to reach the surface of her face. Helen dreaded every thought of it. Anya would not just wear them but would rub it on her face every day that she did. She mustered every bit of strength in herself as she forced her clothes in one last time. And it worked. They finally went in and Helen forced the zip to close before they changed their mind and escaped her bag’s hold. Only this time, it was the zip that decided to give up and in the end, Helen was forced to make a deal with her sister. Two hoodies for the space in her bag. And the trip to their new house was a long and grumpy ride for Helen. A deal with the devil they say, comes at a price after all. *** As her dad’s car pulled up to their new house, she felt a familiar mix of excitement and trepidation. They moved a lot, so this was nothing new, but it still felt weird to enter a new house and start all over again. Helen stepped out of the car, grabbed what was left of her bag, and Anya’s of course, and took a deep breath, preparing to face whatever challenges lay ahead. Anya ran ahead of Helen, squealing in excitement. She always got way too excited about things, which was one of the reasons why Helen found her so annoying. Helen rolled her eyes and followed her, trying to keep her composure. Her dad said little. Over time, he had had to say less to them as moving had become a routine. But this time, he said something different. It would be the last time they moved. As they entered the house, her dad started unpacking boxes while Anya ran around, exploring every nook and cranny. Helen, however, walked through the house, unable to shake the feeling that this wasn't her home yet. It was just a house, with empty rooms waiting to be filled with memories. She missed their old home and the friends they left behind. And perhaps all her old homes and friends. Or were they just old houses and merely people? Anya, of course, was having the time of her life. She had already found a secret hiding spot in one of the closets and was giggling to herself. Helen sighed and decided to join in on the fun, climbing in after her. As they sat there in the dark, giggling and telling stories, Helen realized that maybe this house wasn't so bad after all. It wasn't home yet, but it could be. With time and effort, they could make it their own and create new memories here. She climbed out of the closet, feeling a little lighter. Moving was hard, but maybe it wasn't so bad after all. They had each other, and that was enough to make any house feel like home. But the worst was yet to come, and it was closer than they knew. Breathing down their necks, with the scent of death, and a memory she would never forget.