When We Speak of Nothing

by Olumide Popoola

  Her blackness was that rich and deep kind that reflected back. She waited for a bit, thinking, then, she looked at him. ‘At home everything na fine?’

  What was she on about?

  ‘What do you mean?’ This was turning out to be weird.

  ‘You come for visit, first time, from far, very far. Then your father no be here. I hope dat at home, everything is fine?’ She laughed. ‘Nigeria, I mean, how do you say it? It never make a good impression.’

  Karl laughed too. ‘It did. Sort of.’

  ‘No!’ she was adamant. ‘Not like dis. Dis no be de way. Sorry for John telling me. We talk sometimes. He say he like my special opinion.’

  She laughed again. Karl nodded. The going-along type.

  ‘I am not a special person. I just cook. But John’ – and she winked at Karl – ‘him say I can see more than de junction. Maybe because so many people I see every day. I get used to seeing more than people show. Sometimes at least. You ask him what is there to see at the junction. He will laugh. He will not reply. He will not know what kine junction he dey talk.’ She rolled her eyes, still laughing. ‘Don’t mind John. He is special. Junction, no junction. Your father. They will find him. For de rest, dat be your own story. You will do it de way you want. You understand?’

  Karl nodded some more. Like what the heck was going on here?

  ‘It is OK, really. John has been very good to me.’

  ‘Anyway’ – and she rose – ‘all I want to say is it is well. Don’t worry. It is well.’

  A young man rushed in. ‘Good afternoon, auntie.’

  He almost bowed respectfully, then laughed. He looked at Karl and folded his skinny, stilt-like legs, swinging to sit next to him. All had taken a split second. Much less than Karl’s complicated journey from the steps to the inner workings of the hut.

  ‘Here you dey chop well well,’ and he smiled at Karl. Then back at the woman. ‘Ahbeg Auntie, anything.’

  Mena’s face lit up. She obviously knew this guy and she went behind the counter and lifted a plastic cover. Underneath was a full plate, dished up, all ready and just waiting for the right dude to come and ask for it. Chunks of meat in a thick stew on top of a whole lot of boiled rice. Karl, now used to the dim light, saw that there were several portions lined up on the narrow counter.

  ‘Nakale, na late. Time don pass too much. You never finish before?’ She looked up at Karl. ‘Dis one him no go eat.’ She hesitated. ‘Or you wan try it?’

  Karl swallowed. His mouth was still too dry. And now he was proper confused by that random convo. Which junction? And what was supposed to be going on at home? Or was it here she had talked about? He would choke, for sure, proper, if anything required salivation. Like speaking, coughing, doing anything else but sitting here, concentrating on keeping his body arranged, his torso upward, his legs un-shaking, his hands steady. Independent, he was for the first time hanging in this Nigeria. Now this was the real shit.

  The young man, Nakale, had got up as soon as Mena lifted the plate. His grin looked childish, his face a shiny schoolboy’s complete with sweat bumps and greasy skin.

  ‘Auntie, I de thank you.’

  His hand lowered as soon as he sat back down, now opposite Karl, the plate in front of him. He attacked the food in a precise manner, not wasting any time, full spoon straight into lowered mouth.

  ‘Karl be him name. John brought am. He come from London.’

  Nakale looked up but didn’t move his face any higher. The spoon kept shoving rice and stew, in even movements. He was still chewing but he stopped for a second. His hand reached for another spoon and handed it to Karl.

  ‘Come and eat.’ And he was silent again. There were no words but a lot of noises. All of them appreciative.

  Mum, it’s like proper cool here. Learning lots. Don’t worry, all is good. Will call soon. Karl

  * * *

  Abu would have liked her to say something about him. Nalini was still talking about Karl and him being so understanding, sweet, different, etc. etc. Since that first time she had said nothing about him. Nothing at all. No sign at all. He was hoping, despite her reeling off Karl’s better attributes, that she also noticed how he was growing into a man. The halal perfume (fakes he got from his mate down the road that matched all the latest trendy smellies almost accurately) he dabbed on in the morning, at first break, after college and sometimes in-between; the clothes that showed he knew his stuff. Well put together. Outfits that were proper coordinated. Karl would have made a double flip had he seen what happened to him in a bloody week. Anticipation that made him wake early on Monday and without Karl to talk things over with, left his thoughts trailing, always ending with the image of her face.

  ‘It’s a shame if he doesn’t make it back for his birthday. Remember last year? We ended up going to that place at the Brunswick.’

  Her eyes widened, reminiscent of the grown-up experience, when Karl and Abu had spontaneously invited her and Afsana to go for a cheap lunchtime-deal meal when they had accidentally run into each other on Karl’s birthday, almost a year ago.

  ‘We could look out for any of these offers this year, you know what I mean. Groupon. Get a proper deal. Like a proper three-course meal or something.’

  Abu nodded. ‘Not sure he’s going to be back. You know how it is.’

  Karl. Nothing to say here.

  He was aiming for mature and world-knowing, as if he was assessing the larger state of things. He didn’t even know how anything was, let alone Karl’s latest doings. All he knew was friendship didn’t seem to be all the same to Mr.-quickly-getting-occupied-otherwise.

  ‘Where is he anyway?’

  These were things that no one had bothered to brief Abu on. He had no idea what he was supposed to say. Neither Godfrey nor Karl had given any real instructions.

  ‘Taking care of business, innit.’

  Nalini fell for it. Impressed, she glanced at Abu sideways, her cheeks flushed from the cold this time.

  ‘Tell him I said hi and I hope everything works out well. You gonna talk to him?’

  ‘Defo. Sure thing. I’ll let him know.’

  Afsana was almost catching up with them at the gate. She had forgotten the paper that she had done for college and didn’t want to miss out on the praise. It was on the local history they were all working on. Nalini and Abu had chosen Slavery and The Bloomsbury Group, with a few others in their year. It had hit home for all of them.

  ‘He would never believe I actually did it on time and OMG I did so much work.’ Afsana had been in overdrive, her mouth babbling away. ‘He’s just gonna think I’m being funny. No way. I’d rather come late.’

  And she’d rushed back. Now she was swaying in a skipping motion down the street towards them, winner’s smile on her lips, her silk headscarf reflecting the bright day’s sun.

  ‘Can we, erm, do you, I mean, what do you think of …?’

  Abu’s lips tripped over the words that came out of his mouth without his permission. Nalini waved at her friend, come quick, almost time, you’re still gonna make it, and directed her attention back towards him. What was it?

  It was time. Time to grow up, Abu figured. Karl wasn’t here to help him through the endless days now. And even if, they couldn’t act like conjoined twins for the rest of their lives.

  ‘I mean, maybe I can walk home with you after college?’

  Afsana arrived, running the last bit, and swung her arm around Nalini.

  ‘Got it.’ She patted her bag proudly.

  A small hand squeezed Abu’s. Quick. Nalini looked at him.

  ‘So those ears do pay attention.’ And she pulled Afsana towards college, looking back once over her shoulder. Smiling.

  13

  * * *

  The balance, the balance.

  Isn’t it to be equal?

  ‘I couldn’t sleep. It was on my mind, like, the whole time.’

  Nalini was standing outside the estate, waiting for Afsana to join them. She had bbm’ed that
she had to get Rahul ready but her sister was dropping him at nursery. Could they wait for her? It gave Abu a minute alone with Nalini. He’d waited at the corner since eight, not wanting to miss them. During the week he had seen her here and there, usually surrounded by at least three other confident girls, all of them in some major debrief. He never managed to catch a quiet moment with her.

  ‘You know,’ she added, looking at him for confirmation. ‘It’s just like so intense. I never knew this could be so close, like here yeah, right here. I mean, everyone knows about slavery but it sort of has nothing to do with now, with anything we see, you know what I mean?’

  In the week it seemed like she had waved at everyone but him, her eyes always somewhere else. Smiling. He was just never sure who it was directed towards. Her crew, or any of the passers-by she engaged with?

  He shot a smile back, despite himself, despite thinking that she didn’t even care enough to lift her hand or throw some comment towards him, like she did with everyone else. It stung, you know. Everything Nalini and no proper face time. His new mates – just some of the youth from around the area, acquaintances he had to quickly upgrade because Karl was nowhere near coming back and Mark and Kyle were going to be off to Spain all summer – were laughing about him. His stupefied, all-things-Nalini look. Too much for their taste.

  ‘You stuck in time, bruv?’ They banged into him when he stopped midway in his track, because everything her.

  Now he shifted his legs left, right and back. ‘Are you going to do it in project week?’

  Nalini got excited. ‘Yes, I think so. I mean we’re practically on Leigh Street anyway. It’s like our history. Like local. You know what I mean?’

  Abu shoved his hands into his jeans. Then took them out again and arranged his T-shirt underneath the ironed sweater.

  ‘I’m still waiting for this summer to start.’

  Nalini laughed. Abu felt good. Maybe she had been smiling at him all along?

  ‘What was the woman’s name again?’

  ‘Mary Prince,’ Nalini shot back. ‘I got the book out of the library.’

  ‘I’d like to have a look at it some time.’

  Anything Nalini. Karl would be oh my days, if he could hear him, all of a sudden you are into doing extra college work? He was changing.

  Nalini pulled on his sleeve. Her hand stayed on his sweater, he wanted to shift but not for her hand to move. It took his whole willpower to keep still.

  ‘Don’t do it just to impress me.’

  Why did she have to be so bang on the money?

  ‘I’m not.’ His head was moving left and right as if it was on rotation.

  ‘Abu.’ She was still holding on to his sweater. His legs were on their way to a major cramp and he had to give in. His knee released and his foot started tapping.

  ‘What is the deal with you and Leicester?’

  ‘Why are we talking about Leicester now?’ Her fingers went from Abu’s arm to stroking his hair.

  ‘Everyone is scared of the guy. You always have something to say to him.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  She had caught him. He hadn’t been around much when she gave Leicester lip, not outside class.

  ‘I hear about things. Maybe I saw you once or twice.’

  ‘That guy is an arsehole.’

  ‘Everyone knows that, but he also has a temper.’

  Nalini shrugged her shoulders. ‘So do I. You just haven’t seen me yet.’

  She pointed at his face. ‘Your eyes are about to pop out. You don’t believe me?’

  ‘I don’t.’

  The streets were getting busier. A woman in a grey skirt suit and brand new trainers was power walking by them, a laptop bag swinging with every step.

  ‘I caught him in a vulnerable position once. He’s just trying to get in there before everyone figures out his life is just as sad as the rest of us.’

  She stared at the estate as if she could pull Afsana out by osmosis.

  ‘What do you know? Help us out here. Leicester would be finished—’

  Her hand caught his in the air. She pulled it down. She was so close now he could smell her face cream.

  ‘You don’t want to know.’

  They were standing hand in hand but not like he had dreamt of. This was accidental, her thoughts trailing somewhere he couldn’t follow and it didn’t have all that much to do with him.

  ‘Normally I wouldn’t be all into the whole Mary Prince thing, you’re right, and yeah it started because, erm, you know …’

  There was air between their hands again, she had let go. She turned her face towards him.

  ‘Know what?’

  ‘You know…’ He nodded to a couple of guys on the other side of the road. ‘But when you got all excited it made me think. You never really know what’s going on, right were you live. I mean was going on.’

  She narrowed her eyes and nodded. ‘I’m so busy with this I can’t even tell you. I mean what does it mean for a whole country, you know. For us. Like history. All the money here, in the country, so much is from that time. From slavery. It’s like mad.’

  Abu was biting his lip.

  ‘And Mary Prince … I’m just thinking about courage. About speaking your own mind. And then there is this black woman and she did just that. Being young now and having the courage to be who you are. To speak your mind. To be different. Things like that.’

  His face relaxed and he nodded.

  ‘Speaking your own mind … I do that. Kind of.’ He laughed.

  ‘That’s why I’m chatting with you.’

  To say he was relieved was an understatement. He wasn’t made out for this sort of intensity. Not first thing in the morning. But then it felt good as well, good and special. Exclusive. Afsana was waving from the door to the tower block.

  ‘Leicester thought we could be an item.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Not now, some time back. I went to his house once. Sad situation there. But that wasn’t the reason.’

  Abu could feel the anger rising inside of him. Bloody Leicester. He wanted to ask more but his mouth stayed shut, teeth pressing on each other.

  ‘You’re right. I don’t have a temper, not like that. That’s why I don’t go out with arseholes.’

  Afsana arrived and looked at them.

  There was a silence. Abu and Nalini smiling. Things were on a roll. Just the two of them.

  The next day Abu sent Karl a bbm. waz happening blud, u callin me or wat? U wont believe this history project week. talk bout slavery rite where we live. @ leigh st! is like crazy.

  Karl replied seriously?!!? call u l8r. And when he did, that evening, Abu told him all about Mary Prince, the first black woman to write about her experiences of being enslaved. How she had been taken from Antigua by her slaver, to the bottom of where they lived, to Leigh Street, exactly.

  ‘Same old bloody street we walk along all the time. Can you believe it?’ Abu shouted, and it was a shock. His new vehemence, his new interest. Abu didn’t tell Karl about the urgency. How it like, pushed through him. How he couldn’t think of much else, but everything her. He had stayed behind, in college, after classes, to catch up and find information on the Camden Slavery Trail. Nalini would like that. She would do her attention thing again, right? Be impressed that he kept up with her. With everything her. They could check out the neighbourhood, their neighbourhood, together. His chest puffed up, filled with the importance, his new purpose. He told Karl he would forward him some stuff by email.

  ‘In case you ever go online. I mean if you ain’t too busy, all important and so on over there.’

  Neither of them picked up on the fact that, like Mary Prince, they had been doing their own sort of running on that same street. Right at the bottom of Leigh Street.

  He didn’t tell Karl much about Nalini. It didn’t feel right. Karl should know by being there. Wasn’t like Abu had to fill in every detail before. Karl didn’t ask much either, no making up for missing out on Abu’s
most important change this side of the season. Just listened and was oh wow, slavery right there, need to find out more, creepy, innit and Nigeria is interesting. Interesting. Like nice. No bloody info whatsoever. You might as well say don’t feel like telling you anything.

  * * *

  Karl woke and the sound of Rose was in his head. A muffled baby cry. He remembered how he had picked her up the previous day and how she had stopped immediately, looking at him curiously. It had tugged so heavily, direct line to the mushy part inside him.

  Daylight filtered into the small room. There was no baby. It was at John’s. He was at the bungalow. Where his father was supposed to be. But wasn’t. Uncle T had got some people involved. He had just said ‘security people’. Karl should not bother about it. All was going to be well.

  Karl’s shoulder was stiff, courtesy of falling asleep with his mobile in hand. Abu. Nalini. And Karl. Here. There. Things had changed in these past ten days. Time was speeding up, like no man’s business.

  Nakale was taking him along today. Since their first introduction in the buka, Karl met him there almost daily, when Nakale wasn’t at uni. Mena felt they would be good friends. She liked Karl. She liked Nakale. End of story. You could call it meddling but someone would have to show him more of the city. The real city. And what was on the outskirts, what was hidden. Uncle T was trying his best to find the father while doing business. Meaning he was away the whole time. John was trying to make up for the absent father but also had business, even if that was coming along rather slowly. And he was sort of that little bit too old for proper youth type hanging. Mena – Karl now called her ‘Auntie’ like Nakale – wanted Karl to get to know the place. Nakale wanted to show him what he did in the little spare time he had. The recording of what was going on in the area. The pollution and stuff. Karl was in sync with that. He could not leave like some lazy tourist who had only seen the inside of some fancy bungalow.

  ‘Well, it’s a precaution only. You are not from here.’

  ‘I get it,’ Karl replied. ‘I stick out like a walking cash point.’ That’s how it is when you’re light-skinned like me, Karl thought. You don’t blend with the locals. No fucking chance. However annoying that was. He wondered how it had been for his mum. It must’ve been much worse, the sticking out. He had texted her that morning. Told her of the great time he had (had left out where that was though), that he was learning so much about himself, and that he would be calling her soon, very soon but his credit was almost gone and he couldn’t reply that often. Rebecca had probably never expected it to be different. Had known that she wouldn’t be able to fit in, period. Karl wasn’t feeling her any more than he did when he left. To keep a father from him for the whole of his life wasn’t softened by how her trip here might have been all that time ago.