The sun was setting. Nakale, Janoma, Karl, Emmanuel and his little friends sat outside the Internet cafe. All were falling into deep contemplation after the hectic back and forth of airlines, Godfrey, Mama Abu, Karl’s mum.
Nakale informed Karl that he would be staying with him tonight. Janoma called her parents to ask what was the latest the driver could pick her up. The young boys watched and discussed feverishly among themselves, the way kids do when they are negotiating the rules of the latest game.
Reddish strips of light were scattering behind the dusty houses. The commotion stopped. Madam had finished her workday and done all the things she usually did when she was about to get ready to leave. Emmanuel’s mother worked nearby in a little stall. His mum could see him if she walked a few steps; the stretch of street was not very long. It looked like there was need of sitting and drinking something.
The group outside madam’s shop looked lost. A warm Coke would do. Electricity had gone a while back and she had switched off the generator. The fridge sat lopsided on the two narrow wooden planks that held it up. All silent. She didn’t owe these customers anything, but she brought out a wooden bench that seated the three barely adults, the boys already sitting on the red ground. The open sewer dropped down a little way to the side, a cement path leading to the entrance of the shop, covering the a greenish-black thickness, complete with empty plastic bottles and colourful paper scraps. Janoma looked at Karl.
He nodded.
‘What are they saying?’
‘Some people found him in front of the house.’
He wondered if Nalini knew. Nobody would have told her. He didn’t have her number. He needed to let her know.
‘They called the ambulance straight away. The hospital is just around the corner.’
He stopped. Time was making itself very present. Two hours, two bloody hours, stretching apart as if there was no tomorrow needing drama.
‘He’s been out for two days.’
‘Is there anything they can do?’
‘He needs to wake up.’
The little boys looked at Karl. He handed them his phone. Another heated argument, now about who was to play the game on it. Madam offered her Coke. Karl bought a bottle for each of them. Their eyes widened and their cheeks collapsed from the intense straw-sucking. Happiness could be such an easy thing, Karl thought. It was in those moments. They only came by accident: a collection of people, random. A frame: the surrounding and the opportunity to highlight it. Like madam’s offer. He smiled. The first since the phone call.
‘So, Emmanuel.’
The boy looked up. His pride was shining so bright it could have switched the electricity back on. Janoma laughed.
‘You na like dis man?’
Emmanuel stole a glance at his friends, who were all standing mouth open, Coke bottles resting on chins, straws connecting bottles to mouths. There was no drinking; the noise had stopped.
‘Coke is your favourite?’
‘Yes,’ he replied quickly. And to prove it, he sucked even more on the chewed end of the straw.
‘And football?’
‘Yes,’ all of them replied.
‘Which team do you like?’
‘Man United.’
And Karl laughed at the knot of them that twisted and unwound itself, excitement pulling and releasing their limbs.
‘No, Arsenal na be de one.’ Emmanuel was adamant.
‘My friend at home. He dey like Arsenal. Like you. He like am too much.’
Emmanuel was still nodding. Eager.
‘What about school?’
Madam came out of the stuffy shack and leaned against the metal bars she would soon lock in front of the door.
‘Primary first. He’s on holiday now. That’s why he is here. To help out and stay out of his mother’s way. If he is with his mum, he likes to get into trouble. Walk off with his friends here.’
She gave them all a pretend stern look. ‘He listens better here.’
Then she turned to Emmanuel. Emmanuel nodded. Prime position, spotlight on him as he moved his head up and down, shaking off any doubts as to his manners and matters of obeying the rules. His eyes were still on Karl. The tension that held Karl’s body was leaving. The little time he had left expanded.
‘You know how to use computa?’ Karl asked him.
And again the feverish replying started, all boys jumping off the ground, showing off to each other when and how and where and how much they had used anybody’s laptop, PC, computer, smartphone, until Emmanuel trumped.
‘My friend’s uncle, dey get tablet we me go play one game for.’
That was settled, then. The adults hid their amusement. It was simple like that, the showing off. The sharing. The Cokes finished. Time was running out. Karl took his phone back.
‘I am leaving tomorrow. I will see you next time, Emmanuel.’
He stroked the boy’s hair. Emmanuel looked sad. Karl looked even sadder.
They returned to John’s place. Nakale needed to collect the bag he’d left at the buka while waiting for Karl and Janoma.
The two had a minute. Like one, only one.
‘So no last kisses then.’ Janoma no longer teased. It was pretty shit.
‘Looks like we might not get a chance.’
There was silence again, the loaded type, the one you don’t want to break because it feels sweet, but it also hurts a whole damn lot. Once they broke it, time would move on. Like fast.
‘Why don’t you come to London when you are off uni?’
It had been on Karl’s mind. Despite all the other urgencies, this one was one too. This couldn’t be it. Was Janoma thinking any of that?
‘I’ll try.’ Her eyes followed stuff on the ground. They could see Nakale, held back by Mena. She was waving at Karl, concerned look. Karl waved back. The shop was already closed, but she was cleaning. The counter collapsed yesterday for some reason. Her teeth flashed now and Nakale joined in on the joke.
Karl and Janoma were running out of time. Out of their one minute.
‘I want to.’ She sounded sad. The air between them melted. They couldn’t touch. Not here. ‘I want to see you again.’
The little stalls that lined the edge where dirt yard met street lit their kerosene lamps. Inside the houses, people were going about their evening business with the evening noises that came with all of that. The crickets were having another party. Their choral chirping making it all a little more intense. Karl. Heat heavy on his skin, on his mind.
‘Please try.’
Nakale was saying ‘bye’ and he started to walk. It was only a few steps.
‘Janoma, you won’t just forget me? You’ll bbm? I can call you?’
This wasn’t going to be bloody it, right? Whatever the rest would be this was not the last of it. Right?
‘I’ll call you as soon as you’re back in London. Karl …’
Karl wanted her to rush, say everything, before Nakale joined them and they had to be a group of friends again, without this, this just-them-ness.
‘You’re awesome. We will stay friends, right?’
And Nakale reached. Karl took her hand and squeezed it as they walked up the stairs. John was expecting them, his wife behind him, baby in arms.
Nakale insisted. Karl like, can’t really fault my life for not bringing me some good peeps. Just how to handle them?
‘Karl, you are my friend. I no dey leave you.’
And John thought it a good idea for Nakale to stay with Karl for the night. Very good, very good indeed. When he saw how Karl stormed out of the house to the Internet cafe, brain and spirit floating outside the current universe, like the oil on the creeks, attached but not belonging there, he thought company would be good. Janoma’s lips still lingered. He smiled, walking up the stairs, stomach in knots. Her skin, her arms, her lips, her breath, her eyes.
Uzo was on her way to bed. John asked if they needed anything. They brought a mat and a pillow. A sheet to cover. Nakale went to wash and Karl waited in the dark lounge. It was slightly cooler. Quiet. The evening had not yet turned into night but John excused himself. He would be up early to help.
After Nakale finished, Karl went into the bathroom and scooped water with a plastic bowl from the big container that was still half-full and stood next to the sink. Washed his feet. Took off the rest of his clothes. Stood in the lukewarm air, in the darkness, closed his eyes and tried to keep the rushing away. The head-on collision. Usually Abu would help out when things like that happened. Or Karl would leave wherever he was, hit the asphalt and let it lift him up and off the ground because he needed the air. Air between his body and the world so his body could leave the dirt underneath. The stuff that fit nowhere. Then he would knock at Abu’s door.
But Abu was looking for his own way back in and Karl could not leave the house and Janoma. Janoma, who he had not found yet but was already losing. And Nakale. What to do with Nakale?