Najwa Talks To Things

Bashira quickly checked her purse’s contents again. It was a nervous habit. Realizing there was no more putting it off, it was time to go. “Umm. All right honey, I’m going to go see Nani.”

Najwa leaned back in her seat and swirled her feet around above the linoleum. “I wish I could see her too.”

“I know baby. It’s not a good idea. It… it won’t be a good visit. Will you be alright?”

“Yes Ammi.”

Of course she would. Bashira’s daughter was the most contented child she or any of her friends had known. She could be relied upon to sit patiently in a place and not grow restless, not cause trouble. Her behavior was so exemplary that it was almost concerning. Bashira could leave Najwa here in the waiting room for the hour or more it would take and know that she’d be fine. Being fine was what Najwa did. Bashira checked her purse one more time and kissed Najwa on the forehead. “Okay sanam, you have your tablet. I’ll see you soon. Be good.”

Najwa watched her Ammi walk up the hallway. She put her tablet beside her on the chair. She wouldn’t need it. She was alone in the waiting room and had all the distraction she’d need.

She surveyed the room and settled upon the landscape painting on the wall. “Hello,” she said.

“Well hello there!” The painting spoke with a young woman’s voice, bubbly and friendly. “What’s your name?”

“Najwa.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Najwa! Nobody ever talks to me, so this is a treat.”

“What are you a painting of?”

“I’m not based on anything in particular. I was inspired by my artist’s childhood in rural Illinois, so I guess that’s the best answer I could give you.”

“I’d like to go there someday. Your trees look really pretty, all autumn-y and warm.”

“You’re so sweet. Thank you! What are you here for today?”

“We’re visiting my Nani. That’s Urdu for grandmother. She’s sick. She hasn’t even been awake in a long time, she’s all connected to machines.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. So if you’re visiting her, why are you in the waiting room?”

“I don’t know.” Najwa shrugged and walked over to the fish tank. “Hello.”

The tank spoke with an older man’s voice, gruff but pleasant. “Hiya! Been a dog’s age since anyone’s spoken to me.”

“Other people talk to you?” So far as she knew, Najwa was the only person that could do this.

“Well… no, but they talk to the fish, and that’s kinda the same. They tap me when they do.”

“Does that hurt?”

“No, but it’s more than a little annoying. Imagine people just walking up and tapping you all day.”

Najwa giggled. “What kind of fish are in you?”

“Well, most of the little ones are neon tetras. Those two bigger fish, they’re guppies. Can you talk to them too? I spend so much time with these guys and I don’t know much about them.”

“I can’t talk to animals. Just stuff that doesn’t move. In… in annie met stuff.”

“Inanimate?”

“Right. Inanimate.”

The fish tank burbled, impressed. “Well still, that’s a really great ability!”

“Thank you!” Najwa walked over to the corner, where a janitor had left a push broom leaning against the wall. “Hello.”

“Oh, hi!” The broom spoke with a young man’s elastic, almost goofy drawl.

“Why are you here in the waiting room today?”

“Robert left me here. He’s the custodian. He’s supposed to put me back in the closet with the buckets, but he forgets a lot. Anyway, it’s nice to be out of the broom closet now and then. I don’t get to see a lot in there. It’s kinda lonely being a broom.”

Najwa nodded. In her experience, tools and cleaning items always seemed a little ill-at-ease with their lot in life. Some had chips on their shoulders about it. This broom seemed nice enough, though. “Brooms are cool. Have you ever seen Fantasia?”

“No, why?”

“There’s a big broom scene. A bunch of brooms come to life and walk around carrying buckets.”

“Wow, really? I’d love to see that. Is it over by the TV?”

Najwa walked over to the TV and looked. “Sorry. Just a bunch of other tapes. Hi Air Bud.”

The old cassette answered with a piping “Hello!”

It occurred to Najwa that it was probably good that the hospital didn’t have a copy of Fantasia on hand. She’d just remembered that the enchanted brooms were chopped into pieces with an axe, and she didn’t want to upset the broom. She walked around the room and found a pamphlet display. “Hello, what are you guys about?”

“Hello dear,” a pamphlet said in calming, measured tones. “I believe I can help you with your Nani.”

“You can help Nani? That’s great! She’s been sick forever.” Najwa took the pamphlet and stared at it. On the cover, a cartoon person was comforting another cartoon person who was seated with their face in their hands. They looked like they were crying. The pamphlet’s title was

End of life

What to know, when to expect, how to carry on

“What are you about?”

“I’m about coping with the death of a loved one.”

“Nani’s just sick, she’s not dead.”

“I know hun, but I overheard your mother talking to the doctor. They mentioned pulling the breathing tube today. Were you not told about this?”

Najwa frowned. “What? Ammi is just visiting.”

“…If you say so. I’m sorry.”

Najwa opened the pamphlet and read.

Not everyone copes with death in the same way. Some parents have trouble telling their children about the death of a loved one, and some don’t even know how to begin. In this text, we’ll discuss healthy ways to discuss the finality of death with…

She lowered the pamphlet. The finality of death. She’d had a rudimentary sense of what death meant. Najwa was coming to realize that dead meant gone, and gone meant goodbye. The last time she’d seen Nani, she thought she’d see her again. She hadn’t said goodbye. She hadn’t known she should.

Bashira found Najwa asleep on a chair. “Wake up, sanam. It’s over. Nani isn’t sick anymore.”

Najwa sat up. “You mean she’s dead.”

Bashira blinked. Her face was puffy and red. “How did you… yes, she’s gone, honey. You can come see her now. If you want.”

Najwa’s eyes widened. She’d never seen a dead person. Would Nani have her tongue hanging out, like in the cartoons? Was it going to be scary, like in the PG-13 movie she’d seen at Paulette’s house? She stood and they walked up the hallway.

As it turned out, Nani just looked like Nani. Najwa had to look really hard to notice that she wasn’t breathing. Najwa took Nani’s hand and realized that Ammi was still standing by the door. “Ammi? Why didn’t you tell me this was happening?”

“…Nani’s free now. No more sickness, no more pain.”

“I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

A doctor came in, and Bashira seemed to jump at a chance to go over paperwork. They stepped out into the hall.

Najwa looked down at her grandmother, and her heart ached with the fullness of its grief. Dead meant gone. Nani was gone. Nani was… inanimate. An idea occurred to her, and she spoke. “Hello Nani.”

Nani’s body spoke in her voice. “Hello my sanam. I have missed you.”

They talked. At the end, they said goodbye.