The Death of Vivek Oji(46)

When Juju finally told her about the kiss, Elizabeth looked stunned. Juju watched as shock and pain cycled through her face, quickly replaced by disbelief. “Wait, is this not the same Vivek you kept telling me there was nothing going on with?” Elizabeth asked, then laughed in an empty way. “Wow, I’ve really been an idiot. You’ve been here making a fool of me this whole time. I hail you!”

“It’s not like that,” Juju tried to say. “Let me explain—”

“It’s not like what? You missed penis so much that you had to make a move on Vivek, of all people? He’s not even a man, for God’s sake.”

“Elizabeth!”

“I don’t even blame him. We all know his head is somewhere else. But you—how long have you been lying to me about this? What else have you two done?” Elizabeth held up a hand and looked at Juju with disgust. “In fact, don’t tell me. I can’t even tolerate your face right now.”

She walked away and Juju ran after her, trying to grab her arm, but Elizabeth shook her off. Juju called her name, her voice breaking, not caring who heard or saw, but Elizabeth never looked back.



* * *



—

A week later, Maja came into Juju’s room to tell her that Vivek was gone, that he had “passed away”—useless words meant to make death feel better. Juju stared back at her as the news of his death ground to powder the pieces Elizabeth had left her heart in, until there was nothing remaining in her chest to come up through her throat. That was why she stopped talking, and Kavita’s visit didn’t change that. Nothing changed that until one morning when Juju dreamt of Vivek and he kissed her again in the dream, and a river flowed from his tongue down her throat. Juju woke up with a dry mouth, but when Maja said good morning, Juju said it back to her automatically and watched the joy flood her mother’s face. Charles was there—he was always there now—and when Juju greeted him, she was surprised to see her father look both old and relieved.

The next time Kavita came to visit, her face thin and tired, Juju told her what she wanted to know: that Vivek had come to her house that day, but he’d left in the afternoon and she thought he’d gone home. She told Kavita he’d eaten lunch there, but he hadn’t had much because he was full of pancakes.

“So you don’t know what happened to him?” Kavita asked, her eyes full of disappointment.

“I’m so sorry, Aunty. I really don’t. I thought he got home safe. I didn’t know what happened until—” Juju’s voice cracked and she paused to force it back into one piece. “Until you called my mother.”

“They put him in front of the door, you know.” Kavita looked so frail.

“I know, Aunty. I heard.” Maja was waiting just outside the parlor and Juju threw her a look, begging for rescue.

Her mother swooped in and put her hands on Kavita’s shoulders. “Come now,” she said. “Let’s get you some tea. Juju, you can go to your room.”

Juju leaned down to give Kavita a quick hug before she left, feeling how sharp her shoulder blades were, like a wishbone ready to snap. Juju wanted to whisper that she loved her, but it wasn’t the kind of thing any of them ever said out loud and she knew it wouldn’t make a difference. Still, seeing Kavita like that, almost going mad with trying to figure out what had happened to Vivek, she wondered if Vivek’s mother deserved a bit more of the truth—if she and the others were hurting her every time she asked them the wrong questions and they gave her their careful answers. The truth was so far away from any of her suspicions that she had no chance of interrogating them successfully; she didn’t know how much she didn’t know. She was Vivek’s mother, and she was wasting away before their eyes. They were as guilty as she suspected. They were making her suffer.

Juju called Elizabeth.

“I didn’t think I was going to hear from you again,” Elizabeth said when she picked up.

Juju ignored her. “We have to tell Aunty Kavita the truth,” she said. “It’s time.”





Nineteen





Osita



Juju called to say we were meeting at the sports club on Sunday. She and Elizabeth were already there when I arrived, sitting far enough apart to tell me they were still quarreling, even though their bodies were unconsciously angled toward each other. Juju was tapping her foot against the grass, her legs crossed. Elizabeth was barely moving. I could feel the anger layered quietly inside her as she sat in the plastic chair, staring into emptiness.

Ever since that day in the boys’ quarters, Elizabeth and I had tried not to be around each other too much. When she and Juju got involved, it got harder to avoid each other, since we were all connected by Vivek—who she forgave a lot faster than she forgave me, by the way. But no wahala. I stayed in Owerri and minded my business and everything was cool. Besides, the Elizabeth I’d been with was very different from who she was now, with her shaved head and thick eyeliner. Other girls would have worn big earrings and lipstick to compensate for cutting their hair, as if they were still in secondary school, but Elizabeth clearly didn’t care. Sometimes I wanted to tell her she looked like such a lesbian that it was a miracle Aunty Maja hadn’t realized she was knacking her daughter—but, again, I was minding my business.