When We Speak of Nothing

by Olumide Popoola

  ‘Your birthday soon. Wanna go go-karting? Heard someone talk about it this morning. Sounds like major fun. I think Nalini would be up for it.’

  Karl was talking into the dark. No telling if Abu was still up, but since they had nowhere to be the next morning he thought he’d try.

  ‘Headache. Sounds like headache to me. You do know that I just got my head kicked in?’

  Karl could feel Abu staring, not at him, but at the bloody ceiling. The way he talked it was clear that he wasn’t interested in having a real convo. Not about go-karting or anything else. Nothing at all. Again.

  ‘Of course, stupid me. Sorry man. What do you want to do?’

  ‘Don’t matter. Nothing is fine with me.’ Abu pulled the blanket up to his chin and sighed his whatever way, the one he acquired out of nowhere. ‘Nothing to celebrate,’ he continued.

  ‘That’s not true. I know this is some heavy shit, but Nalini. You’re in love and stuff. She’s, like, crazy about you. You’re not even talking to her.’

  Abu was quiet. Karl was sorry. All that talking meant he wasn’t waiting it out any more, wasn’t paying attention to when Abu wanted to bring things up himself.

  ‘Just give him some time,’ the doctor had said.

  Karl wanted Abu to help. Do that chatty-chatty business and tell him easy bruv, no problem whatsoever, listen to me. This is how you do it. This would be how Janoma would come and stay, and his mother would be fine with it, and her parents as well. He couldn’t take any more extended therapy across continents to cover the next set of disappointed adults. Chances were if he didn’t play this right, Janoma would be lost. For real.

  ‘You could transfer.’

  ‘It’s not that easy. Do you think they are going to take me in London, coming from a Nigerian university? You have no idea! And I’m not dropping out. I’ve told you, I’m doing stuff. Going places. You can’t ask me to change my life because we met for ten minutes.’

  ‘More like three weeks.’

  ‘My point.’

  ‘Well, you’re coming here now, so we can see if—’

  ‘I won’t drop out!’

  ‘Nobody asked you to drop out!’

  ‘Good. Then we’re both clear.’

  Karl sighed. ‘We are. I just meant if there was a way … you know.’

  ‘I said what I had to say. Understood?’

  ‘Yes ma’am.’

  ‘Very funny. Take me seriously.’

  ‘I am. Sorry.’

  * * *

  But Abu had nothing to say, nothing to add, no what was that all about, no analysing; he just wanted to rest, be left alone, talk minimum and stare at the twins. They got all ‘caring siblings’ on him and were the only ones who could deal with his silence. Needed nothing from Abu but to sit somewhere close to him and look at him from time to time. Azizah would hold her hand in front of his mouth if he got too quiet, nod at Aazad, whose face would return to whatever he was doing before they stopped mid-action to look at each other, then their older brother. They had noticed how he had left the building. Mentally. Totally unavailable.

  And no effort ever to tell Karl off or how he could get back to their friendship. If he’d changed forever, or if this was a phase. And all the things that happened to Karl. And to Abu. Here. And the other friendship that Karl hadn’t yet told Abu about. The good friend in another city, in another set of rules, in another country, which really meant another world. The one who had thrown him in the cold water to say two things: grow up! and here, here is my friendship. I need to prove nothing. I just do.’

  Karl wanted to tell Abu. Ask whether he would come, wanted to come to this bloody Nigeria, the literal bloodiness of it, the part where rain poured sour with residue of gas. Where a long chimney could extend far into the sky and spit flames like no man’s business. Wanted to show him the pictures on his phone. The articles Nakale had given him. What to do with that info? What to do with all of it?

  He called Nakale. Not when he was over at Janoma’s house but at an appointment time made by text. Relationships needed reliance. There was no need to mix things up; he had learned that much. Everyone should have their own equal share, their own bit of prime-time. Nakale had all sorts of questions. He had already emailed Karl. Could he help out now? Help get some of the details?

  There was a case in The Hague. There was also a recent oil spill in the mighty US of A. That one was, of course, much more pressing, because it was about American lives. Nakale didn’t get why his type of data never made any headlines like that. Karl didn’t know what to say. This beyond-King’s Cross was a new way of looking at things. Godfrey said it was a sun thing: the we-revolve-around-it. The sun being the effing centre of attention. So no one cared for lives that came from places that were so far away in their orbit because everyone was so busy being close to the main action. To the main player.

  In the end it was the only place that really mattered. Karl didn’t have the heart to tell Nakale what Godfrey was on about. And that he thought he was right. But eventually he had to ask him how to spin the Janoma thing. There was no one else to go to. Would her parents let her stay with him?

  But Nakale asked about Abu first and the tears wanted to fall again but it all just went dry in Karl’s throat and eyes.

  ‘Physically, he’s all fine. Miracle really.’

  ‘And what does he say?’

  ‘Nothing. Nothing at all.’

  Nalini spent her time meeting Abu outside in the little bit of green arranged to break up the tall rectangles of concrete that sat between the posh bits of the area.

  ‘Karl, he’s fine, I think. I don’t think he’s mad at you. He’s just quiet, doesn’t say much to me either. It’s only been two weeks. Give him time.’

  Then Godfrey.

  ‘So. Can we recap the whole thing now that we’ve made some progress? Please?’

  ‘Again?’

  ‘I’m talking as in how to go forward.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He called.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Your father.’

  It was annoying. Those bloody commentaries.

  33

  * * *

  Time is a conundrum.

  You’re forever chasing its tail.

  ‘What does he want?’

  ‘I think he just wants to know you. Call him.’

  ‘Godfrey, I’m not all that bothered. I’ve had enough bonding problems lately. Gonna stick to what I know.’

  ‘And what is that? What about Abu? All seems to be different. And that girl—’

  ‘Woman! Young woman, please. And that is exactly what I’m talking about. Things are different. And my priorities are fucking intact. You have no idea. The father isn’t one of them.’

  Godfrey turned quiet. He sat on Karl’s bed. Karl looked at him. Godfrey looked at his shoes. The afternoon was fading quickly. The right and wrong things. The eighteen years of age. The getting used to not having to be the meddler. Of adulthood. Independence. The knowing your place. Which sometimes was stepping back. Like, way back.

  ‘Understood.’

  Karl called Uncle T. They chatted like they used to. Catching up on Abu and Rebecca. On London. But then he went all Game Over, come clean already.

  ‘Karl, you still haven’t told me what happened with your father. He has been trying to call you. You have to speak to him.’

  ‘Yes, Uncle. I will call him back. I have been busy.’

  When he called John, he filled him in on all the latest developments. Rose was crawling now. Karl promised to call again soon.

  He had things to do. Nakale was devising the details of the master plan. Janoma was to follow Uncle T on his next business trip to Italy. Gain first-hand experience in buying. You had to do buying when you did fashion. You did. Surely the parents would understand that. See how indispensable such an experience was. Italy. Fashion capital! But also, she could buy some things for the shop. Uncle T had already mentioned he needed an assistant. He
was so busy these days Karl didn’t think it would take a minute to convince him. Janoma was a model student after all. Shopkeeper. Only Italy wasn’t London. How to get her there?

  ‘I have an aunt in London. I dey try eh.’

  Karl could almost see Nakale’s ear pressed into the phone in the crammed booth. Maybe Emmanuel was hanging about, trying not to cause any trouble. It was shit being so far away.

  ‘My friend wetin you go do with Janoma?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Nakale sounded puzzled. His voice didn’t drop, it stayed level, as if it had nowhere to go.

  ‘Wetin you wan do? She will return to Nigeria after small time.’

  Everyone and their bloody planning. He couldn’t escape it. If they could just, like, leave him to it for a minute. Could a brother not get a bloody minute?

  ‘I just want to see her.’ Pause. ‘I thought she really wanted to see me, too.’

  Nakale’s laugh sounded resigned. ‘My bruv. No dey worry yourself. She dey do. Only this going to London … De whole thing, na be harder like dis.’

  Karl sighed. ‘It’s already hard.’

  ‘Hey.’

  Abu was lying on his bed, perfectly groomed.

  ‘Hey. Are you going out to see Nalini? Was just coming for my headphones. I left them here.’

  ‘No, just lying here.’

  ‘Can I sit?’

  ‘Why so formal, man?’

  ‘Why so formal? Cause you ain’t speaking to me.’

  ‘I ain’t what?’

  ‘You’re not speaking to me. Abu—’

  ‘I’m speaking to no one, in case you haven’t noticed. Pay some attention, mate. I thought you had my back.’

  Karl smiled. Something was giving. He could feel it.

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Then give me a fucking break.’

  And Karl went for his headphones, which had slid under Abu’s bed. Dust was stuck to the padded parts. He brushed it off.

  ‘Hey, want to stay at mine to mix things up? Mum and me changed the rooms around. I got the bigger one, am out of the cupboard.’

  ‘What? How did that happen?’ Abu sat up, automatically smoothing his trousers. The beige stuck out against the navy-patterned duvet cover.

  ‘Side effect. All the talking we’ve been doing.’ Karl stood in the middle of the room.

  ‘No way. She really just changed it?’

  ‘Yes. I didn’t really want it at first. Why, you know? Mum needs her space too. But I’m trying to get that woman to come here. The one I met in Nigeria. I told you. Janoma.’

  ‘And your mum swapped rooms with you so you two could have space to fool around? Wow, my man, my man, you have got things—’

  ‘No, she doesn’t know yet. I still have to ask her. But you have to be prepared.’ He laughed.

  ‘Does that mean you’ll no longer be here?’

  ‘Depends on you.’

  ‘Just ’cause I nearly died doesn’t mean you have to act like I left you.’

  ‘Not bitter at all then.’ He didn’t laugh. There was nothing to laugh about.

  ‘Sit down already, skinny arse.’

  He sat next to Abu. ‘It’s called “keeping trim”.’

  ‘It’s called “being knocked out and your friend not being there for you”.’

  Karl hugged him from the side. One arm behind Abu’s shoulders, the other in the front, but to reach properly his body would have to come off the bed. He hovered, wanting to step to the side, but Abu’s knees were in the way. It was a bit pathetic. To get to a proper hug he would have to almost climb on Abu. Wasn’t quite what he had in mind.

  ‘OK, not working the way I thought it would.’

  Abu burst out laughing so hard he had to cough.

  ‘You are a mess, you know.’

  ‘Just didn’t think sideways hugging would be such hard work.’

  And they screamed. Mama Abu knocked on the door.

  ‘Everything fine?’

  She saw them next to each other, laughing, hitting their legs, boxing the sides of each other. Smiled and closed the door gently.

  ‘Sorry?’ A question.

  ‘I’m on it. Give me some time. But when your woman is here and you ain’t bringing her …’

  ‘No way. I’m dying to see what you say. She’s cool and … beautiful.’ He looked at Abu. ‘And she has a quicker mouth than you. You two will leave me behind.’

  ‘Still catching up, heard the doctor. But I’d get your dreamy self any time. You’re slow sometimes you know. Smart, but slow.’

  ‘I just need my time.’

  ‘Sometimes others need yours too, bruv.’

  ‘I said sorry.’

  ‘Not quite the same as listening to what I have to say, innit?’

  Abu put his arm around Karl’s shoulder.

  ‘Simples. You just do the arm. No need to go for the whole body invasion. See? No problem whatsoever. You’re slow man. Like I just said.’

  Karl smiled. ‘So Nalini …’

  ‘Man, we need to talk.’

  ‘That’s what I’m saying. Mum is waiting, though. I promised to cook dinner with her. Fancy coming, or what exactly did you dress up like that for anyway? Haven’t seen you make an effort since—’

  ‘Maybe I was waiting for you.’

  He jumped off the bed and raked in the bottom of the wardrobe for matching trainers. He found an old pair, behind a few boxes, baby blue, like the crisp shirt he was wearing. Black ash stains were smeared over one side. Some memories. The shock that rings after, long after the brain stops hitting the skull.

  ‘Karl, it’s not the hospital.’

  ‘About Pat, mum’s friend?’

  ‘I didn’t …’

  ‘What do you mean? You made your statement. You told them who it was. You did, right? It’s my mum’s friend!’

  ‘I know.’ Abu pulled out the trainers. They were the right colour for the combination. He looked at the top, thinking. ‘I sort of told the police. Not all.’

  Karl went all major pissed off.

  ‘Calm down. Not yet. My memory you know, they’re all giving me space anyway.’ He loosened the laces. Those cases …’

  ‘What cases?’

  ‘You know, the riot thing. They are going to go down on that hard.’

  It was a question. One with a full stop, with a certainty.

  ‘What you mean ‘on that’?’

  ‘Where you been? The rioters. People. Anyone they can get. De yout dem, anyone the slightest bit involved, man. Do you pay any attention?’

  ‘And you were?’

  ‘Did you read my texts or what? They are going to try to pin something on me.’

  And Abu told him about running and the smell of fire in his nostrils, the explosions that didn’t just make good TV, that wasn’t just some abstract reality of some other part of the city but that had burned right in front of him. Had sent a flying piece of burning foam that was probably from the seat on to his trainers. And how now it rubbed a whole lot of wannabees the wrong way.

  ‘That’s how it all started.’

  ‘You were there when they burned a car. So what?’

  ‘What do I know? All I remember was that I was too good for them. You know me; given the wrong bit of opportunity, I just let out a rant. A long one.’

  ‘And …?’

  ‘How slow are you? They kicked out my tail lights.’

  ‘Have you heard from them since?’

  Abu chucked him his phone. It landed on the bed. ‘Just go through.’

  He sat the trainers on the floor. ‘I was wearing the blue hoodie with these. I hope it done me good service.’

  ‘What?’

  Karl was still fumbling with Abu’s phone.

  ‘CCTV. From my face making news. You forgot how to get to the bloody text? Give it to me blud, you’re killing me.’ He walked over and opened the first message.

  ‘You know they still use smoke signals there.’

  ‘Thought
so. At least if it ever kicks off again here you can let me know where you are. Probably not where the action is.’

  ‘Very funny. So what am I looking for?’

  ‘Just go through it, you’ll see. It’s pretty entertaining.’

  Karl started to read.

  ‘Ignore Nalini’s messages, OK.’

  ‘Why spoil all the fun for me, I was looking forward—’

  ‘Just do it Karl. Start from the back, work yourself to today.’

  Wakey wakey.

  Karl looked up at Abu. ‘Is this when—’

  ‘Second day of coma. Of course I didn’t read it then.’

  ‘Who from?’

  ‘Unknown number.’

  ‘I see that, but you have no idea?’

  ‘Not sure exactly. Probably one of the guys responsible for Pat. Think they’re clever … Trying to pin the whole car thing on me. Police could probably find out who it is in no time. Isn’t there like GPS on these or something? They know I won’t go.’

  ‘But why not, Abu? I still don’t get it. They almost killed you.’

  ‘Your answer right there.’

  The texts came daily. They weren’t threatening, not in so many words.

  Don’t worry bruv wont say anything to anyone just coz u blew up a car. Cctv prob didn’t get you at all

  Then there were details of things he had apparently taken. Places he was and how it was nice to catch up, even if the sender didn’t quite agree with vandalism just because everyone else was doing it. Or with stealing. Details of the clothes he was wearing. How he covered up but the photos would probably still be enough to identify him.

  There were fifty-four messages. Three a day. Morning, lunch and dinner. Always the same time. Somebody had a lot of time and free texts to hate Abu.

  ‘You have to report them. It’s just going to go on forever.’

  ‘I won’t. Go to the newer one. Last week onwards.’

  Wow, gr8 girlfriend. Cute! Sure, i’ll keep an eye on her, no probs mate. That’s what i’m here for. My pleasure.

  ‘You know they’re just bluffing, right? Sounds too much like a TV show.’