The sky was painted by a careful hand with long brushstrokes of yellow, orange and pink. The blue that was left was already painted over, and every cloud was brushed away by the springtime wind. The sun was already sinking into the packed farmland dirt, shining its last light on two lovers, sprawled over a blanket on a grassy hill. Their hands were intertwined, the boy’s brown, the girl’s freckled and white.
“We should not be here this late,” the boy said passively in a faint Ewe accent, nuzzling into her neck.
“You don’t sound too sure of yourself,” the girl replied, with a smile on her face.
He chuckled and kissed her lips, “No, I am not. I want to stay with you through the night and morning, until the very end, Dahlia.”
Emily felt tears on the edge of her eyes at the sound of her nickname, given to her when Domenyo first saw her. It was in the marketplace, and the local Ewe people were selling objects to tourists. She and father had passed a bored teenager sitting on a bucket with bundles of flowers behind him. Emily’s hair was bright red and puffy from the humidity that day; and immediately the teeenager stood up and offered her a red flower with petals that formed a circle, like a dandelion.
“This is a Dahlia flower. Your hair looks exactly like it.” He had grinned, and put the flower into her hand, “I’m Domenyo, it is lovely to meet you.”
A year had passed, and after becoming best friends they lay on the hill, lovers soon to be apart.
“I wish your father didn’t have to go back to Ireland,” he stroked her face, “There are Peace Corps sites next door in Ghana.”
“Haha, I told you many times Domenyo, he doesn’t work for them. His work’s slightly more unconventional.” She smiled, “But I wish that too. I wish I could stay in Togo forever.”
She stared at the sky as the colors began to fade and the dark wrapped the sky in its embrace. It didn’t take long for stars to cover the sky, like God had emptied his pockets of diamonds.
She turned towards her boyfriend and kissed him passionately. He kissed Emily back, adjusting himself so that he was under her. The sound of clothes rumpling and noises of pleasure filled the quiet night. And as if Togo wanted to create an even more beautiful scene for them to remember, fireflies emerged like small beacons from the grass.
Their lights flickered on and off, bobbing seemingly at random around the hill. Most of the lightning bugs stayed together, like a cluster of stars, but one particular bug strayed away.
Its long black wings pushed the insect higher, so that it was hovering directly above the couple. Its thorax brightened and dimmed as if watching them, as if it were waiting for something.
A long time later, the girl and the boy helped each other put their clothes back on. They had smiles on their faces, only visible because of the moonlight.
“Look Domneyo, a firefly,” Emily pointed at the lone bug as it hovered a few inches away from her face.
“I see it,” he smiled at the look of wonder in his girlfriend’s eyes.
She reached out in front of her and cupped the bug in her hands.
Screams filled the night.
Emily flung the insect out of her hands, sobbing and speaking too quickly for her boyfriend to understand. When he put his hand on her to make her calm down, she pushed him away. He tried again to calm her but all she did was point to his shirt. He looked down. It was stained with blood.
The hair on the back of his neck stood up.
Adze.
He slowly moved his head to where the girl had thrown the firefly. About ten feet away, where there should have been nothing, lay a lump the size of a small child, a silhouette against the darkness. Fear washed over Domenyo.
He grabbed his lover’s hand, blood squishing through his fingers. Emily looked up at him, a blank expression on her face turned chalky white.
“We need to leave,” he said, the panic barely contained in his voice. He pushed her onto her feet and heaved her body over his shoulder. He didn’t have much time. The Adze would appear in it’s true form in a matter of minutes. He started his journey down the hill, feeling his girlfriend’s blood coming down his back.
They’re real. The Adze are real. Domenyo’s breath labored as he tried to quicken his pace. He remembered the stories his aunt told him, the ones he would scoff at as old superstitions.
“I heard horrible retching coming from Fafa’s house last night,” Domenyo’s aunt had said, lowering her voice so only her sister and Domenyo could hear. It was the fourth time she had visited that week; Domenyo thought it was simply because she had missed her sister’s company, but her purpose for being there was not that trival.
“Oh Yayra,” his mother put a hand on her shoulder, “Do you suppose it’s a malaria outbreak?” she whispered. Domenyo’s eyes widened at his auntie, awaiting her answer. Malaria had killed Yayra’s niece a few years ago. Ever since then she had researched whatever she could find about the horrible disease and how to prevent it, and her sister was just the person to come to; she was a renowned doctor in the area.
“No, these people have anemia.”
“What?” his mother exclaimed, “that can’t be right, Yayra. Malaria doesn’t reduce red blood cells in the body. It travels with them when it’s released from the liver or red blood cells themselves. How did you find out?”
“A white doctor visited yesterday. He said the same thing you did. This illness is something different,” her face darkened.
“Like what?” Domenyo asked.
“An Adze disease.”
The silence in the room was tremendous. All that was heard was the ticking of the fan above them. His mother took a deep breath.
“Yayra, you can’t possibly believe-”
“What’s an Adze?” Domenyo asked.
His mother and auntie looked at him with pained expressions. Yayra looked at his mother with a raised eyebrow, as if asking for permission to tell. His mother held her head with her hands, but nodded.
“Remember the book you read at school? The one about a man who drank the blood of helpless humans?”
“We should not be here this late,” the boy said passively in a faint Ewe accent, nuzzling into her neck.
“You don’t sound too sure of yourself,” the girl replied, with a smile on her face.
He chuckled and kissed her lips, “No, I am not. I want to stay with you through the night and morning, until the very end, Dahlia.”
Emily felt tears on the edge of her eyes at the sound of her nickname, given to her when Domenyo first saw her. It was in the marketplace, and the local Ewe people were selling objects to tourists. She and father had passed a bored teenager sitting on a bucket with bundles of flowers behind him. Emily’s hair was bright red and puffy from the humidity that day; and immediately the teeenager stood up and offered her a red flower with petals that formed a circle, like a dandelion.
“This is a Dahlia flower. Your hair looks exactly like it.” He had grinned, and put the flower into her hand, “I’m Domenyo, it is lovely to meet you.”
A year had passed, and after becoming best friends they lay on the hill, lovers soon to be apart.
“I wish your father didn’t have to go back to Ireland,” he stroked her face, “There are Peace Corps sites next door in Ghana.”
“Haha, I told you many times Domenyo, he doesn’t work for them. His work’s slightly more unconventional.” She smiled, “But I wish that too. I wish I could stay in Togo forever.”
She stared at the sky as the colors began to fade and the dark wrapped the sky in its embrace. It didn’t take long for stars to cover the sky, like God had emptied his pockets of diamonds.
She turned towards her boyfriend and kissed him passionately. He kissed Emily back, adjusting himself so that he was under her. The sound of clothes rumpling and noises of pleasure filled the quiet night. And as if Togo wanted to create an even more beautiful scene for them to remember, fireflies emerged like small beacons from the grass.
Their lights flickered on and off, bobbing seemingly at random around the hill. Most of the lightning bugs stayed together, like a cluster of stars, but one particular bug strayed away.
Its long black wings pushed the insect higher, so that it was hovering directly above the couple. Its thorax brightened and dimmed as if watching them, as if it were waiting for something.
A long time later, the girl and the boy helped each other put their clothes back on. They had smiles on their faces, only visible because of the moonlight.
“Look Domneyo, a firefly,” Emily pointed at the lone bug as it hovered a few inches away from her face.
“I see it,” he smiled at the look of wonder in his girlfriend’s eyes.
She reached out in front of her and cupped the bug in her hands.
Screams filled the night.
Emily flung the insect out of her hands, sobbing and speaking too quickly for her boyfriend to understand. When he put his hand on her to make her calm down, she pushed him away. He tried again to calm her but all she did was point to his shirt. He looked down.
It was stained with blood.
The hair on the back of his neck stood up.
Adze.
He slowly moved his head to where the girl had thrown the firefly. About ten feet away, where there should have been nothing, lay a lump the size of a small child, a silhouette against the darkness. Fear washed over Domenyo.
He grabbed his lover’s hand, blood squishing through his fingers. Emily looked up at him, a blank expression on her face turned chalky white.
“We need to leave,” he said, the panic barely contained in his voice. He pushed her onto her feet and heaved her body over his shoulder. He didn’t have much time. The Adze would appear in it’s true form in a matter of minutes. He started his journey down the hill, feeling his girlfriend’s blood coming down his back.
They’re real. The Adze are real. Domenyo’s breath labored as he tried to quicken his pace. He remembered the stories his aunt told him, the ones he would scoff at as old superstitions.
“I heard horrible retching coming from Fafa’s house last night,” Domenyo’s aunt had said, lowering her voice so only her sister and Domenyo could hear. It was the fourth time she had visited that week; Domenyo thought it was simply because she had missed her sister’s company, but her purpose for being there was not that trival.
“Oh Yayra,” his mother put a hand on her shoulder, “Do you suppose it’s a malaria outbreak?” she whispered. Domenyo’s eyes widened at his auntie, awaiting her answer. Malaria had killed Yayra’s niece a few years ago. Ever since then she had researched whatever she could find about the horrible disease and how to prevent it, and her sister was just the person to come to; she was a renowned doctor in the area.
“No, these people have anemia.”
“What?” his mother exclaimed, “that can’t be right, Yayra. Malaria doesn’t reduce red blood cells in the body. It travels with them when it’s released from the liver or red blood cells themselves. How did you find out?”
“A white doctor visited yesterday. He said the same thing you did. This illness is something different,” her face darkened.
“Like what?” Domenyo asked.
“An Adze disease.”
The silence in the room was tremendous. All that was heard was the ticking of the fan above them. His mother took a deep breath.
“Yayra, you can’t possibly believe-”
“What’s an Adze?” Domenyo asked.
His mother and auntie looked at him with pained expressions. Yayra looked at his mother with a raised eyebrow, as if asking for permission to tell. His mother held her head with her hands, but nodded.
“Remember the book you read at school? The one about a man who drank the blood of helpless humans?”
“You mean Dracula?”
“Yes. That is what an Adze is.”
Domenyo’s eyes narrowed, “you mean an Adze is-”
“Yes. A vampire.”