Page 79 of Death of the Author

Msizi came up behind her. “Except your robots experience all that, too.”

“Heh. True.”

“You done rolling around in the dark?”

She shrugged.

“You write what you write for a reason,” he said. “But yeah, that’s what it is to be mortal, Zelu. You remember my cousin iNdonsa?”

“The tall one who wears all the sparkly clothes?” Zelu said. She smiled. “I like her.”

“I know. She likes you, too. iNdonsa always says the best thing about being human is that we die. She’s one of the only people I know who is not afraid of death. You should talk to her.”

Zelu turned back to the blizzard outside. “Maybe.”

Her father would be buried in Mbaise, Nigeria. When they’d told their uncles and auntie who’d flown all the way from Mbaise when they’d heard of their brother’s death, they had acted appeased but not grateful, like their demands had finally been met. Like they’d expected it, because they were right. They hadn’t even stayed in the United States to attend the wake.

“We will see you at home” was all their uncle Dike had said about it. As far as they were concerned, the real honoring of her father could only happen in his village in Nigeria. Zelu’s mother had cried and cried about him being buried an ocean away, but she understood that it was the only thing to do. She knew a battle that she could not win. “Itishis home... even if they don’t understand that Secret has multiple homes now. Even my home in the Ikare-Akoko palace is his home.” Then she’d added, “You all can decide where to put me when I die.”

Zelu went to her bed and dragged her laptop onto her lap. She opened it and typed her password,WakaFlockaFlame(an old-school rapper whose music she vibed with for no reason other than that she liked his voice). She went to her inbox. She clicked on the two-week-old email from Jack Preston asking her to join his space mission. She’d thought she would finally get to leave the world and see beyond. Instead, her world had crumbled. At some point in the blur of the last two weeks, she’d sent a reply:Thank you for the opportunity, but I have to decline. I need to spend this time with my family.She barely even remembered sending the message. Now she saw he’d emailed a response:My contacts have told me what happened. I’m sosorry, Zelu. Sending love and light. Sincerely, Jack Preston.Zelu suspected his “contacts” were her agents, whom Msizi had quickly notified of the family emergency without telling her.

Her phone buzzed. There were only seven numbers that could get past Yebo’s filter right now. It was a video call and she answered it on her laptop. Several video boxes opened. The first showed Amarachi’s neck and chin; her phone was on her lap as she drove. Uzo looked piercingly into the screen from what looked like a beach at sunset. Tolu was clearly home because his cat, Man Man, was pushing his furry head into Tolu’s face. Bola held her phone to her face as she walked down a white hallway. And Chinyere scowled at them all; she’d been the one to start the group video call.

“How are we?” Chinyere asked.

“Bad.”

Grunt.

No response.

“Can’t believe this.”

“Do we have to do this?” Zelu asked.

“Ugh, don’t start,” Amarachi snapped.

“We do have to do this,” Chinyere said. “So anyway, Amarachi and Jackie will stay with Mom tonight.”

“I will be stopping by every day,” Tolu added.

“Zelu,” Chinyere said.

Zelu braced herself. “Yes?” she said more loudly than she intended.

“After tomorrow, can you stay at the house with Mom for the next two weeks?”

Zelu opened her mouth, then closed it. This was unexpected.

“It’s just easiest for you,” she added.

Tolu and Chinyere had super-busy schedules, plus Chinyere had her children. Uzo had med school classes. Bola and Amarachi had intense jobs they couldn’t just take time off from.

“I’ll have to talk to Msizi about it, but yes, I... I can do that.” It was nice to be considered for such an important job, but at the same time, shewanted to be alone in her high-rise sanctuary to sulk, cry, scream. Msizi was traveling to Durban in a week, and she had been looking forward to the solitude. But of course she would be there for her mother however she could. She’d done the right thing by turning down Jack Preston’s offer.

She did wish she were going to Nigeria for the funeral, though.

The family had firmly agreed that Amarachi and Zelu would stay back. Zelu reminded herself not to be bitter. Years ago, her father himself had instructed that the family shouldn’t all travel together when it had come up idly in conversation. “The reality is that anything can happen back home,” he’d said. “People are struggling and angry. If anything does happen, let there be some of us who stayed back so they cannot do away with all of us that easily.” Zelu and her siblings had laughed because they’d recently come back from a trip to Nigeria. They’d assumed he was tired or just fed up; those family trips could leave one like that, especially her parents, who had to navigate so many dynamics. However, there must have been more to that comment than she’d realized, because when it came time to arrange the flights to attend their father’s funeral, her mother insisted they honor it.

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