Everything There Is by M.G. Vassanji

Author:M.G. Vassanji [Vassanji, M.G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Doubleday Canada
Published: 2023-09-05T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

—

There were calls of condolences that evening for the death of his friend and collaborator. And a request to write an obituary for the Guardian. After dinner and dessert, having read to Muni and put her to bed, he went to the boys’ room and sat down to his Thursday night ritual, hearing Mirza’s recitation of a Quran excerpt; he couldn’t pay attention, and the boy had finished before Nurul realized it. He paused and told them that Uncle David had died in Kenya. Did they remember Uncle David, and Aunt Una, and Susan? There was an awkward silence. Nurul sat on Mirza’s bed, under a poster of the Rolling Stones, Mirza sat at his desk, and Rahim on his own bed, leaning against the wall.

“What was he doing in Kenya?” Rahim asked.

“He was teaching,” Nurul replied. “He was a brilliant scientist, but he preferred to teach where there’s a dearth of good teachers.”

“I remember Susan.”

“I don’t,” said his younger brother.

“You should. She babysat us. Did you speak with Aunt Una, Dad?”

“I will, as soon as I go downstairs.”

“Wish them well for us.”

Nurul went back downstairs and sat down in his study. Sakina was in the sitting room watching the news. With some trepidation Nurul picked up the phone and rang the Masons’ number in Nairobi. It took a while before he got a through-line and Una answered. He felt a stab at hearing the familiar voice, and imagined the pain it must carry. How close they had all been, and how clean and unstated the break was.

“Una…How are you. This is Nurul. I am grief-stricken, I heard the news from John Hemmings and I don’t know what to say—please accept my heartfelt…”

“Thank you, Nurul. It’s been a shock. I appreciate your calling.”

“Thank you. We had our differences, Una, and I wished we could have brought them out in the open…he was my dear, dear friend. You both were.”

“I know—“

She choked and he could tell she was crying. “Why did he do it?” she wailed. “To us!”

“Take it easy, Una,” he told her and waited, until she said finally, “I’ll be all right…Thank you for calling, Nurul.”

“I’ve been asked to write an obituary for the Guardian. Do you wish me to say anything in particular…or hold back on something?”

“I know you’ll do your best, Nurul.”

“I will. He was a brilliant physicist and mathematician. That’s why the Guardian wants an obituary. Why did you go to Kenya? How did he find Kenya? I understand he taught at the university there.”

“He thought he’d do something useful. He liked it. We both liked it. Everyone liked him. I taught at a school here…You know, he was offered a post at Cambridge, but he thought it was not enough…too little too late.”

It was always the same, he knew, younger and lesser minds come and feel threatened, and from their positions of newfound power keep the really brilliant minds away.

“It’s been good here…,” she added. “Which is why it’s so shocking…what was it that I didn’t know? I have to think about it, Nurul.

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