Karl’s father, Adebanjo Balogun, lived in Port Harcourt in the week, while Uncle T was in Lagos full-time. Tunde suggested that after they became acquainted, they could both come to Lagos, so he could also get to know Karl better. Because that is what he wished, had always wished: to get to know his young relative, Rebecca’s child. Godfrey nodded absentmindedly and did his arranging, the type he did best without a giddy Karl, all shy and out of breath at the same time. Out of outbursts, out of eruptions, out of saying anything but how excited he was. Nigeria. For real.
Abu’s mum had not been saying much. She was happy for him, but looked sad. The type of look that held back its thoughts but broke your heart trying to figure out how to rectify it.
Mama Abu wasn’t on the decision-making team, not this time around, because she was against it. Not just the dangers, or yes, the dangers, all of them. And she didn’t mean the foreign-travel advice. She was talking emotions, the sensitive shit Karl processed behind his beautiful face. And there was more.
‘Rebecca …’ then she stopped. Picked up something the twins had left in the kitchen and put it on the counter. Busied herself with something or the other, although she had finished the cooking and the tidying up before Godfrey had come. Karl couldn’t see her. They were waiting for her to continue. She turned around and looked at Godfrey, her hands touching each other. No words. None at all. Godfrey moved around on his chair, uncomfortable. Unsure, all of a sudden.
‘I know. We should tell her.’ His fingers tangled in and out of each other. ‘I know.’ There was a defeated tone there. ‘But stress is so bad for her. The doctor says it all the time. It triggers relapses.’ It was meant to be convincing.
Mama Abu kept her eyes on him, eyebrows raised so slightly you wouldn’t have noticed it if not for the clear message in her stare. Everything was in that look. The it doesn’t make any sense. Like this, you don’t build any trust. At all.
Instead Godfrey and Tunde resolved some details. Karl was to fly back with Uncle T and the father would be there, at the other end.
That evening Karl heard his father’s voice for the first time.
‘Excuse me? Could you repeat that, please?’
And his father’s puzzled laugh pushed nervously through the phone. Puzzled because this youngster was a surprise to him. Had fallen into his life like the hail did in June. Completely random.
‘How are you? Karl.’
‘I’m fine.’ Karl’s words tripped over each other as if he was wearing someone else’s too-small, two-of-the-same-side, trainers. All awkward and not at all smooth.
‘We look forward to welcoming you here in Nigeria.’
‘Thank you. I look forward too.’ And was quiet.
What should you say? That it was, like, so exciting and amazing? But that you were shitting your pants just that little bit? Or just go with the polite angle and wait for the father to make a move?
The father’s voice was deeper than Uncle T’s. A bit strained, a bit faint, as if he was speaking through cotton wool. But with an echo. Courtesy of the connection.
There was time, two weeks, as Uncle T continued on his journey to the south of Europe. Business again – ‘I’m doing this trip a lot lately’ – before returning for Karl, to take him to Nigeria.
Karl was staying at Abu’s again. Rebecca was ‘struggling’, as they all called it. Karl preferred to keep away. Give her space. To deal. Like himself, she had her own support groups. Sometimes she went once a week when the depression was starting. Often she wouldn’t continue them. Just kept to herself. Took the space that everyone gave her. Except Mama Abu, who would drop by and check on her. The staying in touch. Connected. Then she caught another infection and was back in hospital. Second time this year.
Her cheeks were flushed when Karl walked in. Her eyes opened, like a curtain drawn back. Her room was cramped. A woman with busy wounds – oozing stuff, like real heavy-smelling, thick stuff that coloured the bandages in a burnt toast manner – next to her had moaned all night, Rebecca told him. There was a catheter attached to his mother’s right arm.
‘They say only a couple of days, not serious this time.’
Karl didn’t look. Like he didn’t look anywhere.
‘How is the pain?’
‘Not that bad really. It’s mainly just the infection.’
He nodded, head bobbing up and down.
‘How is college? And Abu?’
He straightened her small side table, the awkward aluminium nightstand on rollers, and walked to the sink with the flowers his aunt had brought in the morning. Aunt Sarah had come down from Sheffield, which was rare these days. Karl would have come earlier to catch her, but her husband had come along this time. And things never ended well when Piers was there.
Karl topped up the water in the vase although it needed none of that. There was that smile, hitting him like the cold water. Hurting inside as much as it filled every bloody bit of him with mushiness. Tenderness, you know that one. Rebecca’s smile. The all will be well. The longing for it.
‘Mum, I’ll be away for a couple of weeks. Godfrey and me thought it would be good for me to go on this programme-like thing. Get some perspective on where I want to be with my life, you know. I have been saying my head is all over the place.’
‘He didn’t tell me about it.’
‘We didn’t want to worr y you. Horizon-expanding. A workshop for kids like me.’
‘With college?’
‘Not exactly.’
‘With the support group?’
‘No.’
‘Then what is it? I’m not sure I can give my consent like that. I need more details.’
‘No need to worry, really, trust me. Just some time away, sort of learning by doing experience. I’ll be back in no time. Give you a chance to recover. It’s been a very bad year.’
‘Yes, I guess it has.’
She wasn’t finished. Hadn’t finished protesting the way Karl took independence to a new level. But things have a way of unfolding at the worst moment. Creases folded over her face, contracting the skin as she pulled close all the muscles in a sudden jolt. When it came, that sharpness, the razor-like precision that carved her muscles, her mind blanked. White light switched on in her brain, a high-pitched humming sound. Karl rushed over. His gangly self swayed slightly as he stood helpless next to her bed. She smiled like a rare alien. Same way he felt. Rare. Everything pulled tight.