The Death of Vivek Oji(24)

“What’s happening?” he asked.

“Abacha is dead,” his father replied, swerving the car into the next lane and cutting in front of a bus. The driver shouted and made rude gestures.

“So what happens now?” Vivek asked.

“It’s a new day for Nigeria,” Chika replied. “A new day.” He smiled at his son and put a hand on his shoulder. “For all of us.”

Perhaps he was right and it was a birth of sorts, but Chika had forgotten that births come with blood, and in the case of his son, they came with loss as well, birthdays and deathdays all tangled up in each other.

A few weeks into Vivek’s return, as tensions arose between the police and a vigilante group, a seven o’clock curfew was imposed in Ngwa. Vivek had been taking long walks at night, and when his parents told him he’d have to stop, he lost his temper. “You’re keeping me in a cage!” he shouted. “You think I want to stay in this house every night like a prisoner? Is that why you brought me back?” He ran outside and refused to come back in after it got dark. He climbed the plumeria tree in their backyard, cradling himself in its broad branches.

“Leave him there,” Chika said, disgusted. “Let him fall out and break his neck. Onye ara.”

He slammed the back door behind him and refused to let Kavita go outside so she could beg Vivek to come indoors. “Beg him for what? I said let him sleep there with the chickens!”

In the morning, Vivek was covered in mosquito bites and there was a splatter of yellowwhite chicken shit on his shoulder. After Chika left for work, Kavita boiled water for the boy to take a bath. She didn’t know what to say to him, so she said nothing. While he was bathing, she called Rhatha and invited her to come over with her daughters.

“It’ll be good for the boy to have some company closer to his age,” Kavita said. Rhatha brought her signature cupcakes, complete with sugar dragonflies perched on top of the icing.

Somto and Olunne came in matching blue jeans with floral cutouts and garish polyester blouses with draping sleeves. They smelled like bubblegum, and their hair was pulled tight into ponytails.

“You girls have gotten so big!” said Kavita, as they hugged her hello. “I’m sure Vivek won’t even recognize you. How many years since you last saw him? Four? Five?”

Somto brushed an imaginary crumb off her green blouse and smiled at Kavita. “Closer to six or seven years, Aunty. Before we left for boarding school.”

“Yes, yes, that’s right. Well, come in, let me go and call Vivek.”

“It’s okay, we remember where his room is,” Somto said. “Can we go and give him some cupcakes?” She looked at her mother first, then at Kavita for permission. Olunne’s eyes widened at her sister asking to go into a boy’s room, just by themselves, but she rallied and gave Kavita a quick smile, a shy flash of teeth.

Kavita and Rhatha exchanged glances, then smiled back at the girls. “Down the corridor,” said Kavita, and watched as they traipsed off with the tray of covered cupcakes.

“That’s friendly of them,” she noted.

Rhatha waved a hand. “Oh, they heard he’s got such long hair now and wanted to see it for themselves. I think they’re halfway jealous.”

Kavita blinked. “Over hair?”

“Darling, you wouldn’t believe it. They’re obsessed with those Sunsilk advertisements and they quarrel over whose hair is longer all the time. It’s ridiculous.”

“Oh, that’s right, they had to cut their hair for school, didn’t they?”

“Yes, but it didn’t kill them.” Rhatha flapped a hand and sat next to Kavita, her face solicitous. “But tell me, darling, how are you? You must be worried sick about Vivek.”

Kavita suppressed a sigh. Rhatha was a bit of a gossip, always spilling people’s business. If she hadn’t been one of the few whose children were around, Kavita might not even have asked her over. She wondered what rumors Rhatha had heard. “He’s doing all right,” she said. “We just wanted to give him a little break from school since he hasn’t been feeling well.”

Rhatha leaned back in the sofa and regarded her. “You know,” she said, “Eloise was at the glass factory the other day when Vivek came to pick up Chika. She said he was looking quite run-down. It must have been serious if you pulled him out of school.”

Kavita frowned. “Why was Eloise at the factory?”

“She was picking up some sculptures. You know they did that program recently with the local artists, for her children’s ward? Their work is quite ugly, if you ask me, dreadful vases and whatnot. Chika was holding one for her. He didn’t tell you?”

“Yes, I remember,” lied Kavita. “Of course, the sculpture.”

“You should take Vivek to the teaching hospital if you need to get him checked out. Eloise is there a few times a week.”

“I know. But he’s fine, really. He just needs some time. He was always sensitive, even as a child.”

Rhatha nodded knowingly. “Nerves,” she said. “You always have to watch the sensitive ones. They wear out so easily, and the last thing you want is a nervous breakdown.”

“Exactly,” agreed Kavita. “Better he have some time off now than break down at school.” She knew there was a chance Rhatha would run around and tell everyone Vivek was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, but it was better than admitting that the breakdown had already happened.