There were several bars — one on each side of the dance floor and a small bar in the back, a VIP lounge — so I sat on a stool at the bar to the left of the entrance and waited for a bartender. I saw they had Heineken and ordered one from the bartender, after he served the many women waiting first. I was relieved to not be drinking Pilsner. Although I enjoyed the beer, my stomach felt tender. Heineken seemed like a safer bet, even though it was a bit pricier.
Mark and Jason sat down on stools with me and ordered Pilsners.
‘Jason’s going to come to Lamu with us,’ said Mark.
‘Right on,’ I said.
‘It’s my favourite place on earth,’ said Jason. ‘You’ll love it, so laid-back, no cars, donkeys, beaches, dhows … Ah, it’s the best.’
Jason seemed so familiar in his instant likeability — charming, funny and kind.
‘The second I get there I put on a kikoy,’ he said, ‘and that’s that.’
‘What’s that?’ I said.
‘It’s like a wrap,’ said Mark, ‘a sort of beach wrap.’
‘But much nicer,’ said Jason. ‘They’re Swahili kikoys and they’re rectangular loom-woven cloth and very colourful with different, beautiful patterns and they can be used for anything: a beach towel, for a baby,’ he said, miming a baby wrapped in the garment, tied around his neck and held in his arms. ‘People use them as turbans and tablecloths and curtains, headscarves, wraparound skirts.’
‘They’re pretty cool,’ said Mark.
‘And they’re 100 percent cotton and dry very fast.’
‘I’ll definitely get one,’ I said.
‘I mean, you can get one here in the markets, but they’ll be better and cheaper in Lamu. I can’t wait to lose the jeans and put one on.’
I felt a buzz in my pocket and patted myself down, finding my Nokia; it was my first text from Boris, the only person who had my number: Man b there soon u ok. So I wrote back, All good at club c u soon.
The dance floor began to fill up, a lightshow spinning on the stage and on the floor.
Jason said, ‘Lamu’s pretty much dry, though, on account of it being a predominantly Muslim island, so we should stock up before we fly out.’
‘Good idea,’ said Mark.
‘We’ll hit a Nakumatt downtown,’ said Jason. ‘It’s a supermarket chain.’
My tongue kept digging into the side of my cheek, where I felt a canker sore. I swigged some beer to distract my tongue.
‘I have to hit the loo,’ said Jason, and he stood up from his stool.
Mark and I watched the dance floor, the beautiful women, the dizzying lightshow, the smiling faces, and Mark said, ‘This is pretty sweet, right?’
‘It is,’ I said, and we clinked bottles.
‘It’s so good to see Jason,’ he said. ‘It’s been years but we went to elementary school together and high school. He’s always been such a good friend. But I haven’t seen him since he joined the Peace Corps and moved here.’
‘He’s a great guy,’ I said. ‘That’s clear right away, for sure.’
‘And really funny,’ said Mark.
‘He seems so familiar. I feel like I’ve known him a long time. His face. His smile. His intonation. It all seems really familiar. He reminds me of a buddy back home, I think, but I can’t remember which buddy,’ I said.
‘He reminds you of Nathan Lane.’
‘What?’ I said. ‘The actor?’
‘Yes,’ said Mark, ‘the actor.’
‘I guess he kind of does,’ I said, smiling, Mark smiling back at me, watching my recognition kick in.
‘He’s Nathan Lane’s second cousin.’
‘No shit!’ I said. ‘Oh man! That makes so much sense.’
‘He looks like him, right?’
‘He looks like his younger brother,’ I said. ‘And he sounds like him, too!’
‘Funny, right?’
‘That’s incredible,’ I said. ‘No wonder he’s so damn likeable.’
‘I know,’ said Mark.
‘That’s crazy,’ I said.
‘He acts, too — was in all the plays in our schools and throughout university, too, but he was having a tough time getting parts and then came here.’
‘Man, I’d cast him in everything,’ I said.
‘Me too,’ said Mark. ‘He’ll get back at it. He’s just taking a break. In high school he did one hell of a Nathan Detroit. People still talk about it.’
‘Does Nathan Lane know he’s an actor?’
‘I think so,’ said Mark. ‘But he doesn’t want to call in any favours or anything, though he says Nathan Lane’s super nice.’
‘Is Jason’s last name Lane?’
‘No. DeMarco. His dad’s Italian.’
‘Is he sensitive about being Nathan Lane’s cousin or is it something that comes up?’
‘Oh it comes up. You can ask him about it sometime. Hey, what happened to your eye?’ he said. ‘It looks like you burst a blood vessel.’
‘I think that’s what happened. Probably all the travel. Does it look bad?’
‘No, just a little bruised. You can barely see it in this light.’
Boris walked in the club, looking a little frenzied, and spotted me right away; he joined us.
‘What happened to you?’ I said.
Boris said, ‘I got caught up in a conversation with the director of the Alliance Française and missed the bus. He dropped me off, though.’
‘Good.’
‘Yeah but then I just spent the last few minutes explaining to the doorman why I didn’t have a ticket and wasn’t going to pay,’ he said.
‘Is everything all right?’ said Mark.
‘Everything’s fine. It just took a minute to explain.’
‘Do you want a beer?’ said Mark.
‘Sure,’ he said.
Jason returned from the washroom and now the resemblance to Nathan Lane was unignorable but I did my best not to bring it up. Still, I was burning to tell Boris.
Mark passed Boris a Pilsner and we watched the stage, where MC Karen and DJ Flora were setting up.
Boris said, ‘Did you see these young women?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Amazing, right.’
‘I couldn’t believe it,’ he said. ‘Really powerful stuff.’
And again, MC Karen dominated the room. Tough but welcoming, angry yet kind. The mix of languages worked wonderfully and seemed natural, fluid, musical. Everyone in the large club watched the stage — the people danced facing the stage, watching the show, dancing with MC Karen.
Between songs, Boris said, ‘This is a room full of artists and writers and everyone’s jaws drop when these two play. Incredible.’
After the short set I ordered a bottle of water. A redheaded woman sitting on a barstool beside me said, ‘Smart move.’
‘Sorry?’ I said.
‘The water. Smart move. It’s a good idea to stay hydrated,’ she said, as she sipped her white wine.
‘I had some wine at the reading,’ I said, ‘only two small glasses and a beer. But I thought I should have a water.’
‘Yeah, I try not to drink hard liquor at all.’
‘Oh yeah. Any specific reason?’
‘Reasons,’ she said. ‘I turn into a different person.’
‘I get that,’ I said.
‘No, like quite literally, I turn into a different person.’
‘Who?’
‘Kitten Mather.’
‘Kitten Mather.’
‘Kitten Mather,’ she said. ‘And she’s nuts and a pain in the ass.’
‘Oh wow. What does she do?’
‘She breaks things, she doesn’t stop partying, and she sleeps around,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to get into trouble here or hurt myself.’