Yetunde Funmi? She’s in Orun-re-re.

Teju Do you ever see her?

Yetunde No.

Teju Why not?

Yetunde It’s not really a place for . . .

Babatunde It’s a place for rest. Solitary. Quiet. It’s not built for companionship and all its bloody humanity. For bickering or laughter or –

Yetunde Touch.

Babatunde Yes.

Yetunde That’s for us to find in Aiye again. When we return.

Teju Then why haven’t you?

Yetunde We are waiting.

Adebisi For what?

Babatunde Is that why you’ve never applied for reincarnation?

Adebisi What are you waiting for?

Yetunde We want to go back when we can be together, truly together. Like before. On our own land. On our own soil. We want to go back when the sickness has passed.

Adebisi Oh.

Teju Right.

Yetunde Teju, I want us to bless this wedding. I want to give Omotara a chance at the life I couldn’t have, the life we couldn’t have. Please. Please.

Pause.

Adebisi I vote to bless the wedding.

Yetunde What?

Adebisi I’ve changed my mind.

Babatunde I vote to bless it too.

Yetunde (beat) Why?

Adebisi (beat) Tara deserves more than what the stars laid out for you. For you both.

Yetunde Thank you.

Teju Well . . . it doesn’t matter how I vote now!

Yetunde But we care how you vote. All the same.

Pause.

Yetunde Teju? What do you think?

Teju I can’t. I can’t vote for this. I’m sorry.

Adebisi (suddenly) Hello!

Babatunde Eh?

Yetunde Why not?

Adebisi How are you?

Babatunde Ade, this isn’t really the time to be making small talk.

Adebisi How’s life after death treating you?

Beat.

This is weird. But you were the one . . .

Tara enters and says this with Adebisi in unison.

Tara and Adebisi That told me Yoruba people used to speak to their dead. Still do. So that’s what I’m doing. I hope you can hear me.

Babatunde What’s going on?

Tara I want to ask you so many questions! I have so much to ask you about.

Yetunde She’s speaking to us.

Tara I want to know when you first knew . . .

Yetunde (to Teju) A descendant calling upon the dead!

Tara And I want talk to you about Leah. I wish I talked to you about her when you were here. I want to ask you what I can do to get her back and tell you about the first time I kissed a girl and ask you how it felt when you realised you were gay. I want to ask whether it felt like you were coming home to yourself. Or if it felt like a betrayal.

I want to ask how you knew and if you ever loved anyone and how it felt when you died and why you did it and if I could have helped!

I want to . . . I want to talk to you. But this isn’t really the same.