Web of Lies (16 page)

Sade wasn’t at the gate. Femi retreated under his jacket to wait for her. He stared through the tunnel of his hood at the wall across the road where Errol usually hung out. The place was as empty as the desert dunes around the silver coupé in the billboard above. Errol had gone, and so had his after-school crowd. Mama would have said something about wasps buzzing around for the honey. A memory from way back stirred. He was sitting alone at their kitchen table in Lagos when wasps began swarming around an open pot of jam in front of him. He screamed, and Mama came running. She scooped away the jam. The wasps scattered, and she chased them out of the door with a towel. He only stopped crying when she lifted him on to her lap and cuddled him.

Femi’s stomach tightened. There was so much he had forgotten. No, not forgotten. Buried. It hurt so much to
remember Mama. Yet her voice never came accusing him of forgetting her. She let him be.

So why should he let James get inside his head and make him feel guilty? Hadn’t James forgotten a few things? Like the first time they met. The awful howl from a teacher whose finger had just been sliced away by a slamming door…a posse of boys careening around the corner…James trapping Femi with his camera eyes…finding him later in the dining hall…calling him “little brother”…telling him to give Sade a message. If only he had had the courage to tell Flash Gordon what he had seen, there and then, none of the rest might have happened. But he had been scared, then flattered. It felt good being called “little brother”…being given twenty pounds.

He could see now that one thing had led to another. It was like accidentally slipping over the edge of the riverbank near Grandma’s village. The current was so strong that you would be whirled away immediately into the rapids. Papa had issued many warnings to keep him safe. James had issued warnings simply to scare him. Use him. If James were expelled, that would serve him right. He should be glad if he never saw him again. So why couldn’t he just banish him from his head? If he added up all the trouble he had got into because of James, it should be dead easy.

“Let’s go, Femi!” His sister’s face blocked the end of his hood.

On their way back to the Kings’, they had to pass the garage. Even from the other side of the road, Femi felt his
heart rate increase as soon as he recognized a couple of young men lounging by the old pumps. He was walking so fast that he was almost running, keeping his head well lowered. He sensed Sade struggling to keep pace, but she didn’t say to slow down until they had left the garage well behind.

“Do you hate James?” Femi asked as she caught up alongside him. He pulled back his hood to hear her. She didn’t answer immediately.

“He’s not evil,” she said eventually. “Just stupid to be Lizard Eyes’s friend!”

Sade must think he had been very stupid. Didn’t Mama say, “Your father and sister don’t suffer fools gladly”?

He almost didn’t ask his next question. She might think him completely crazy. Perhaps he was. But if he didn’t have the nerve to say it to her, how could he possibly ask Papa?

“I want to see James. Do you think Papa will take me to the hospital?”

“What?” Her voice was sharp, stinging. “What do you want to see him for?”

He didn’t know why.

“I hear his voice in my head, Sade! I want to get him out!”

“So how does it help if you see him?” She was always so logical. Too logical.

“I don’t know! But maybe then I’ll stop thinking about him.” He knew it didn’t make sense, but at least his sister was quiet.

He half expected Papa to explode. Instead, to his surprise, Papa agreed without any argument.

“I’ve been wanting to see this young man myself,” he added. Femi hadn’t bargained with Papa coming. He couldn’t tell him not to accompany him.

“I’m coming as well.” Sade’s eyes gave nothing away. How come she had changed her mind?

“Why not?” said Papa evenly. “We’ll go as a family. I hope the young man has been doing some serious thinking. His mother is deeply worried about him.”

Papa hadn’t said anything before about meeting James’s mother! Had he met her at school? Femi eyed his father anxiously. It sounded as if he was intending to lecture James! James would think that Femi didn’t have the guts to come by himself and had deliberately brought Papa to get at him. Hadn’t James complained about his own father lecturing him? That was when he had a father. But it was too late to withdraw.

The blood dripping through a tube above a pasty-faced woman and the powerful smell of disinfectant turned Femi’s stomach. The woman lay under a white blanket on a trolley in the corridor. It was the second time that day that his mind had flashed back to Mama. The hospital where she had worked smelled the same. The blood looked the same. In Lagos Mama’s patients were nearly all black. But blood was blood. Sluggish and scarlet, like overripe cherries. Red against the white of the walls, the sheets, the cheeks of the woman. His head reeled. Red like the dark crimson stain on Mama’s white uniform that Papa had been unable to stop, kneeling over her in their driveway….

Femi felt Papa’s hand reach gently around his shoulder. Was Papa also thinking about Mama in here? The warmth of Papa’s palm and fingers sent a silent message. Femi was
unexpectedly glad that he wasn’t alone. It would have been horrible coming in here by himself. A couple of passersby glanced at them sympathetically. Perhaps they thought father and children were coming to visit a sick relative—perhaps even a mother.

At the entrance to the ward, a nurse pointed out James’s bed at the far end. Femi continued to walk close beside Papa through a ward full of patients and visitors. If James was going to be angry with him, at least he wasn’t alone. But to Femi’s astonishment, as they approached the bed, it was James who appeared awkward. Even sheepish. Sitting beside him was a woman who looked so like James that she had to be his mother. The same broad forehead under cropped brown curly hair, a square chin and dark eyes. James smiled uncertainly, shifting his gaze across the three of them before coming to rest on Femi.

“Hi!” he said. There was no “little brother.”

“I—we wanted to see if you—you’re okay,” Femi stumbled. “This is my dad.”

“Yeah, and this is my mum.” James glanced self-consciously at his mother.

“Thank you for coming,” said Mrs. Dalton. She directed herself to Papa. “Thank God, James is mending. He’s been arguing with me today, so I know he’s getting better.” She gave a little laugh, but it sounded forced.

“Yeah, I’m doing fine. They say I’m doing fine,” James repeated. His voice seemed to have lost its confident bounce.

“That’s good,” Papa asserted. “These things can take time. You had a close shave….”

“Yeah, they told me.”

“You were lucky,” Papa said quietly. “An injury so close to the heart…” He didn’t complete his sentence. The words of the doctor who had tried to help Mama rushed into Femi’s head.

I am very sorry, Mr. Solaja. Your wife had no chance. Straight into the heart.

“I should be very angry with you, James.” Papa gripped the rail at the end of the bed. “But first I’m going to thank you.”

Femi held his breath.

“You saved my son—” Once again Papa stopped abruptly. The corner of his eye looked dangerously wet. Femi felt a jab of embarrassment.

Papa coughed as if clearing his throat and continued.

“It takes years to nurture a life. Seconds to lose it. When you are a parent—like your mother and me—you will know what I’m talking about.”

James said nothing, his gaze fixed downward on his white blanket. His mother was nodding in agreement while her eyes traveled between Papa and her son.

“It’s the truth,” she said. James still didn’t raise his head.

“But—” Papa’s voice suddenly rumbled, startlingly vehement. “You led my son into bad, bad company—led him astray! However, I know there must be some good in you. Otherwise, why did you defend Femi at the last minute?” His hand flung upward with his question, as if catching the air and shaking it would make James look up. Instead, James lowered his head further. Femi had never
seen him so uncomfortable. Even when Errol had lost his temper, James had never looked so defenseless and trapped.

“Papa!” Sade’s face was as anxious as her whisper. Some patients and other visitors were looking in their direction. The nurse near the entrance appeared to be on the point of coming over. They might be asked to leave!

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout,” said Papa, lowering his voice. “Excuse me a minute.” He walked away and came back with a chair that he placed beside the bed opposite James’s mother. She was supporting her head with her elbow on the armrest and looked very tired. James cast a furtive glance at Papa as he sat down.

“When I was a boy, James, there was a forest behind our village,” Papa began. Femi and Sade edged nearer him. Papa was clearly planning to stay a while. “My father warned me never to leave the main path. We used it to walk to school in the neighboring village. Sometimes a boy called Deji walked with me. He was much bigger and older, but he kept failing his exams so they kept him in the same class for three years. He often asked me to help him with his work. I did—but he resented it.

“Well, one day he and I were walking home and a bush rat dashed across the path into the bush. Deji dared me to chase it. I wanted to show him that I wasn’t a weakling. So I tore after the bush rat with my slingshot. I was determined to kill it. I didn’t even bother to check if Deji was following me. I was going to show him!” Papa wagged his finger, pausing to take breath.

Femi knew the story, but somehow his father always
made it sound fresh. He noticed that James’s eyes were also darting up periodically in Papa’s direction.

“Well, I got the bush rat, eh! But then I realized that I was totally lost! I shouted to Deji, but there was no reply. It was starting to get dark. My mother would begin to worry. As soon as she knew I wasn’t with my other school friends, she would tell my father. He had a fierce temper. I knew that Deji would just say that I had run off and nothing about his dare.”

James’s eyes were now riveted on Papa.

“My father assembled a team of men to scour the forest with lamps. He made Deji show them where I had left him on the path. It took them three hours to find me. I had never been so petrified in my life. Every creak and rustle made me imagine the worst. In fact, I was so relieved to be found that I forgot to bring the bush rat!

“I knew I was in for a beating. My father waited until we got home. Then he interrogated me in front of Deji. That boy was panicking, eh! If I told my father about the dare, he would tell Deji’s father and Deji would also get a beating! I decided to say nothing about Deji. Perhaps I was just too worn out. Or maybe it seemed pointless. It wouldn’t lessen my beating. It might have even made my father madder that I was trying to blame someone else for what had been my choice.

“My mother begged him to wait until the morning. She must have hoped he would calm down and not beat me so hard. But he was determined to let me feel his anger while it was blazing hot. He took me into a side room where my mother, brothers, sisters, and Deji could hear but not see
us. I tried not to cry, but my father’s belt bit me until I was screaming. When he finally stopped, I had to hobble past everyone, with my head hanging down, to get to my bed.

“I could hardly move the next day. My mother wanted to let me stay at home, but my father insisted I go to school. When Deji saw me, he looked a little shamefaced. I decided not to say anything to him. To be quite honest, I despised him. I had found out how weak he was—despite his big mouth and muscles.”

Papa had slowly edged himself forward. He drew back now on his chair, folding his arms. Femi nervously sucked in his cheeks. The story was over. Why had Papa told James this long story about Deji? Was he going to begin his lecture now? Instead Papa remained quietly tapping his elbow.

“That Deji was a fool.”

Papa raised his eyebrows, waiting for James to say more, but James looked away.

“Well, I don’t think you’re a fool,” said Papa. “What’s more, you showed courage—moral courage—when you protected Femi.”

James frowned in surprise.

“But when you covered up the truth—to protect your friend Errol—that was different. That wasn’t courage. Loyalty can be misplaced, you know. Your friend is a young man throwing his life away—and taking others with him. What a waste!” Papa’s low voice throbbed angrily, and he was leaning forward again. “Another young black man bites the dust. Eh! Eh! The racists must be laughing.”

Femi thought he had seen James’s shutters threatening to come down. But now they were wavering, uncertain.

“Are you listening, James? It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” His mother sighed.

“When my mother thought I was being shortsighted,”—Papa paused to make his point—“she used to say: ‘The goat thinks the world is made of bush.’”

James pressed his lips together. Femi could tell he didn’t know what to make of Papa’s stories or how to respond. Papa stood up from the chair and moved away to the end of the bed. He eyed Sade and Femi.

“Is there anything else you want to say before we go?”

Femi panicked. They were leaving already, and he had hardly said anything.

“D’you know what Errol did to our flat, man?” he blurted. “Set it alight! He could have killed us!”

“He’s been charged,” Sade added swiftly. “The police have his fingerprints on the petrol can.” It sounded like she was saying “I told you so.” James looked uneasy.

“Yeah, well, I don’t hear too much in here.”

“Is that all you can say?” Sade was suddenly sharp. “We tell you that we might all have been dead—and the police think it’s your friend Lizard Eyes—and that’s all you can say?”

James returned her gaze. His lips were parted as if he was about to speak, but no words were ready.

“Let’s go, Papa.” Sade shrugged. Her voice was irritable. In a stroke, Femi understood. His sister still wanted to like James! She had always seemed so dismissive, but actually she was disappointed.

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry about your flat.” James addressed himself to Papa. “My mum only just told me before you came in. That’s why I was shocked when I saw you. Why come to see me if you reckon my friend tried—tried to kill you?”

“Your friend?” Sade said bitingly. “He nearly killed you, too! Or have you forgotten?”

“He’s got a bad temper. It makes him do crazy things sometimes.”

“Like selling drugs?” Sade shot back. “Stealing? Bullying kids? Forcing himself on whoever he fancies? Even when they tell him to get lost! Just a little fun, yes? Like making girls pregnant? When he doesn’t even know what a father should be!” Sade was now gripping the bed rail as Papa had done earlier. She was trembling.

Femi saw Papa stare at Sade, frowning. Not angry. Concerned. Sade was hinting at what she had revealed to Femi yesterday. There were questions in Papa’s eyes.

“Easy, Sade girl, easy.” As Papa put an arm around his daughter, she suddenly crumpled against him. Other people in the ward were glancing across at them again.

“It’s time for us to go,” Papa said quietly to James. “Everyone has to make their own journey. It’s not too late to find the right way—your own way—through the forest.”

Femi marveled at how calmly Papa could talk of journeys and forests. Once again James seemed to be searching for how to respond. Femi knew the feeling.

“Yeah, well…” He hesitated and ran his hand nervously a couple of times over his head. “Thanks for coming,
yeah, and…like I said…I’m sorry…about your flat and…everything.” The words stumbled out. They were an effort but didn’t sound false.

“When you’re better, perhaps you’ll come and visit us.”

Femi’s head spun. Was Papa really inviting James to visit them? Femi watched to see if Sade was going to protest. She had straightened herself next to Papa but remained silent.

“Yeah, right, see you around.” James raised his hands. It was almost his familiar gesture.

Papa said good-bye to Mrs. Dalton. She thanked him for coming and repeated how she prayed James would listen to Papa’s words. As Femi followed Papa and Sade, he glanced back. James winked and his lips silently mouthed two words:
little brother
. Femi’s hand rose, then he quickly turned away.

With the stir they had caused, Femi was aware of eyes trailing them. He didn’t care. None of them mattered. None of them could take away his sense of relief. There had been no big bust up! In fact, the opposite. It was a miracle. Papa hadn’t been raving mad at James! Sade seemed angrier than Papa. So why had she come to see him then? He didn’t understand girls. It also seemed that Papa didn’t understand Sade very well. But after her outburst and the way Papa had looked at her, he had the feeling that Papa was going to try. Femi had been so apprehensive about his father coming with him to the hospital. Yet it turned out that Papa somehow understood more about James than he did! Papa made him feel quite proud to be his son.

At the hospital entrance, they stopped at the top of the steps to get their bearings and locate the bus stop. A convoy of red buses and cars nosed their way along the main road. Above them lights flickered across the night-smothered jungle of shops, offices, blocks of flats, houses, billboards, parking lots, garages, streets, alleys. Femi’s eyes traveled to the billboard above the bus stop opposite the hospital. A silver coupé glinted in the electric lamplight. It was the same sleek machine as the one in the desert on the billboard outside his school. Imagine being at that wheel! Imagine if he could fly over those sand dunes on to an open, empty road, going wherever he wished.

It’s not too late to find the right way—your own way—through the forest.

That’s what Papa had said to James. There was still time for him, too. Papa wasn’t talking about a real forest. In London there was nothing like the forest behind Family House with its trees hundreds of feet tall and leaves so thickly interwoven that your eyes had to adjust to darkness even at midday. In London tall buildings blotted out the light, not trees. So it was the idea of a forest that Papa was talking about. Everyone had to make their own journey. He had very nearly got lost.
A close shave.
Papa could have said that about him, too. The problem was that the forest was still all around him. He needed to keep his eyes open wide.

As they walked down the steps, Femi pulled up his hood. He was about to tug it forward and sink his head down into the back. His old tortoise act. But he stopped
himself. Maximum vision. That should be his new motto. Mr. Hendy would approve. He made himself a promise. If they remained in London, he was going to get onto Avon’s junior football team. Even if they had to go to Uncle Dele in Devon, he would keep the motto. The place was sure to have its own forests.