and not always be angry

Bassey had been in the living room, flipping through the latest copy of The Vanguard when she heard the car pull up outside. It was dark, the vampires were awake and Owa was home. It wasn't the best time to go snooping so she figured she'd catch up on current affairs. When she checked her wristwatch, it was five minutes after ten. Daniel and Isaac were the only ones who ever went out and she'd expected they'd be gone the whole night. She put the newspaper down and went to the window to peek outside.

She saw Isaac slam the car door shut as he stormed towards the mansion. Okonidiok followed, a slightly enraged look on his face. Bassey rushed to the door and opened it just as Isaac was about to stomp inside.

"Isaac," she called out. "What happened?"

Isaac barely spared her a glance as he brushed past her, still fuming. Instead, he stomped up the grand staircase and disappeared into his room, slamming his heavy metal door shut.

Bassey turned to Okonidiok, her concern growing. "What's going on?"

"I told him I couldn't take him where he wanted to go."

"Where did he want to go?" Bassey asked, her brow furrowing.

Okonidiok hesitated, then decided it was best to tell her the truth. "Akpata."

Bassey's eyes widened at the mention of Akpata. "What?" she asked, moving closer.

"I know. I know. I said I wouldn't take him and he got annoyed. Before I knew it, he opened the door and ran off."

Bassey clenched her jaw as an enraged dread settled inside of her.

"Don't worry. He didn't get very far. I tracked his collar."

"Did he say why he wanted to go to Akpata?"

"No," he replied with a shrug. "Frankly, I think he was just curious about the place at first but then he got insistent because he's a foolish child who wants to go where he's told not to go."

Bassey looked up at the first floor, watching Isaac's door carefully as she wondered if that was true. Was he really just curious? Or was there another reason? The first thing he'd done when he got to Calabar was come looking for Bassey. He'd said he heard she was "gentle" but Ansa never referred to Bassey as gentle. He'd heard about Bassey and he seemed fixated on Akpata. Maybe it could have been because Bassey was an immortal busher.

But what was his excuse now that Bassey wasn't even Akpata anymore? Curiosity? Was Bassey supposed to believe that?

Isaac was an impulsive child, but he didn't strike her as a fool. If he was determined to go to Akpata, she couldn't help feeling that there was more to it than curiosity. 

"I'll talk to him," Bassey decided.

"Thank you, Ma," Okonidiok said with a tired smile.

He was about to leave, but Bassey saw the tiredness and wondered if Isaac was its only source. "Are you doing alright?"

"Yes, Ma," he said, suddenly looking flustered. "I'm just tired. I'm fine."

"Are you sure that's all? How are things at home? How's your father?"

"He's fine too. He's just…" Okonidiok hesitated, looking at Bassey through the side of his eyes.

"What is it?"

"He's been complaining about my job a lot lately. Don't get me wrong," he rushed to say. "I love this job. It has flexible hours, and the money? In this economy, the money is great and easy. But my father doesn't like it."

"Why not?" Bassey asked. "Didn't he used to be one of Ansa's witches?"

"He was. He just…" Okonidiok sighed. "I guess he grew old and now he sees things from his mother's perspective and doesn't want me messing with vampires."

"Ah," Bassey said, nodding as she understood what the problem was. "Would you like me to talk to him?"

"No," Okonidiok said, waving his hands at her frantically. "I'm sorry Ma, but no. It's fine. He's not stopping me. It's fine. I'll be alright. I was just saying, that's all. You don't have to talk to him. Please." 

She'd seen this before with other witches who learned the trade from family. Especially those who worked with Ansa in the past. After years of accumulating wealth, they always grew old and realized they shouldn't have dipped their toes in vampire affairs. 

Okonidiok's grandmother was a perfect example. She'd been the first witch in her family, choosing to bring her toddler son along when she came to work for Ansa. A firm-footed single mother who had no husband and had been disowned by her parents, she was all too eager to learn something new. To delve into the art of natural manipulation. And she'd been fantastic.

As the years went by and her son started to follow in her footsteps, she spent less and less time in Ansa's employ until she was suddenly standing on her own two feet, suddenly too good for vampire money. Suddenly too afraid to be Ansa's envoy. Suddenly unable to support Ansa's stance in witches' spaces where vampires were unwelcome.

Okonidiok's father had stood against his mother then. But now, he was standing against his son.

"If you're uncomfortable-" Bassey started to say.

"I don't think it would be alright for you to do anything about it, Ma. His words are usually devoid of action. He just…" he sighed. "He wants what's best for me. He means no harm."

"Okay," she said, unsure if she ought to let it go. "If you say so."

"I do," he said, offering her a slight bow. "Thank you for asking," he smiled as he said. "I'll go now since," he gestured at Isaac's room door. "If he has nowhere to go, maybe I should turn in for the night."

"You do that," she agreed, nodding.

As she watched him leave, she was forced to admit that there were some things beyond her ability. As much as she wanted to interfere in everything, Bassey knew when to back off. Parents were a sore spot for a Nigerian. Especially parents who were present. Okonidiok's father wasn't the worst. Not by a long shot. He'd stood by his children's side and from what Bassey could tell, he'd been a good husband to his wife before she died. 

Right now, he was having a difference of opinion with his son. The last thing she needed to do was meddle in it. Okonidiok was a twenty-seven-year-old man. He could make his own decisions. Bassey already had her hands full with Akpata and the bushers and the vampires. If Okonidiok said he was fine, Bassey had to believe that he was.

Some problems were not hers to solve. Some problems were not even real problems. Sometimes, they were just family members being family to each other.

On the other hand, she thought as she looked up at Isaac's door.

He was her problem. And he was interested in Akpata. No vampires were allowed in Akpata, except Ansa and that was because Bassey's blood flowed through Ansa's veins. She hadn't confirmed it at first, but she suspected that Isaac had made it through her boundaries because he'd been a new vampire with Ansa's blood- Bassey's blood in his veins.

She wondered if he could still get through now that she'd fortified Akpata's defenses. After weeks of drinking other people's blood, Isaac had no trace of his link to Bassey in his system. A part of her wanted to test it out. To drag Isaac to the Akpata boundary and see if he got through or if he was turned away by an invisible wall.

But another part of her didn't want to risk it. She didn't know this boy. She didn't want to expose him to Akpata. As long as she could hold off, she'd have loved to keep all the new vampires away until she was sure she could trust them.

She climbed up the stairs to Isaac's room where his new door stood, reflecting the light on the stairs. 

As she raised her hand to knock, he said, "Go away."

Bassey clenched her fist as she gritted her teeth. She couldn't blame him. It wasn't his fault. It was all those Western TV shows that portrayed youngsters as equal to their parents. Those were the people to blame, none of them considering that African countries were a whole different ecosystem.

She also blamed millennial parents in Nigeria. They gave rise to hotheaded, rude children like Isaac. In a bid to rid their children of perceived traumas, they'd built antagonistic rebels. Boys and girls didn't want to listen anymore because their tempers were more important to them than what their elders had to say. 

And while Bassey was trying her best to be tolerant, there was only so much she could take from the boy. He was a frustrating piece of work. A dangerous one. One that had taken an interest in Bassey's beloved community.

Steeling herself against his sharp tongue, she opened his door and walked right in, determined to have this conversation. 

Whether he wanted to, or not.