What a tragedy.
I didn’t know Ronnie too well, even though he was friends with my ex-boyfriend. It is so sad to lose young lives, always sad.
Come to think of it, that guy looks like an older version of Ronnie. He must be Ronnie’s brother. He must be.
I hurry home with the bucket on my head. The money I received from the stranger will help me a lot. I would never accept money from strangers but I didn’t have any other choice tonight. There are so many orders to deliver tomorrow and now I don’t have any stock. But with this money, all I need to do is to wake up early and head back to Mr Mulungwa’s farm to buy new stock to fulfil the orders.
When I walk into the house, Thulani is on the couch watching TV with a bottle of beer in front of him on the table. A few more empty bottles are on the floor next to his feet.
‘Are you ever going to stop drinking?’ I mumble, placing the bucket on the table. He drinks whenever he gets a chance to do so – which is every day. Every single day.
‘Why would I stop when it helps me numb the pain?’ he says.
I let out a disbelieving huff.
He turns to glance at me with a creased forehead.
‘What pain?’ Thulani is a carefree spirit. No woman or a child to worry about. What pain is he talking about? We have mourned our parents’ death by now and we have accepted our poverty by now. We are both just fighting to survive.
‘I don’t prefer to cry every night like you do. I’d rather drink myself to sleep,’ he drops like a bomb.
I stare at him. Does he hear me crying myself to sleep every night? Probably. I have never stopped crying since the day I was rushed to the hospital to deliver my baby. It was just a few weeks after the encounter with Vhonani and his woman. I thought I was going to give birth to a premature baby whom I would nurse until she was strong enough. Instead, my baby was stillborn. From the moment I held my dead child in my arms, up to today, a day hasn’t passed without me crying. It is the only way I know how to survive – to cry the pain away. Her lifeless body haunts me.
After the words spoken by Thulani just now, I should have started crying instantly, but tonight I feel peace in my heart.
Listen, your angel is watching over you. When you feel lonely, remember that she is watching over you from heaven. I remember the stranger’s words that made my evening. I will never forget them.
I walk to my bedroom and take the money out of my pocket. I need to call Mr Mulungwa to place an order for early tomorrow. If I go to the farm in the morning, I will be able to make deliveries by the evening.
‘What the hell?’ I silently say to myself.
I see a lot of two-hundred-rand notes in my hand. I thought it was a lot of twenty-rand notes when he gave it to me in the dark. I count the money. It amounts to six-thousand rand! I only make this kind of money in months – many months. No ways. I put it back into my pocket.
‘Thulani, do you know Ronnie’s brother?’ I ask. Thulani knows the whole village. There is no family he doesn’t know. I am the opposite; I keep to myself as much as possible.
‘Which one? The eldest or the one before Ronnie?’ he asks and burps. Thulani though. If he could just stop drinking so much. If he did, he would be a perfectly charming gentleman.
‘I don’t know which one he was. I think I saw someone who looks like Ronnie tonight.’
‘I bet he is the one before Ronnie. His name is Rudzani. The other one works in Johannesburg. There is no way he is here yet.’
I start pacing up and down the kitchen, not knowing what to do with the money in my pocket. How can I accept six-thousand rand from a person I do not even know? I have never done it before and I am not going to start today. What if they demand it back from me at a time when I can’t afford it? Or what if they think I owe them now? Thulani stares at me while I contemplate what to do. He is almost drunk, if not already, and telling him about the money in my pocket is not even an option.
‘Can you please come with me to Ronnie’s house?’ I beg. He flatly refuses, telling me that the family is in mourning. I should be listening, but he doesn’t understand. I have six-thousand rand that I need to give back to this Rudzani.
Fine! I will go there alone.
I rush out of the door and head straight to Ronnie’s house – it isn’t far. Chances are, from tomorrow morning, I might not be able to see Rudzani again as they follow the traditional rituals of mourning and plan the funeral. The Range Rover is parked outside the garage. The same Range Rover I was in just a while ago. I bite my nails as I enter the main gate. My heart is drumming as I slowly stroll to the kitchen door, praying that he is the one to come to open it.
One knock on the door and I change my mind.
These people are mourning. Maybe I can just go home and hide the money until the funeral.
I swivel away from the door, but it opens before I can disappear.
‘Hawu, Thandeka, are you delivering eggs this late?’ Ma Angie calls out.
Dammit!
Taking a few steps back to the door, I flash my nervous smile to Ma Angie. The door is wide open, revealing Rudzani having supper in the kitchen. He sees me and stands. ‘I am not delivering eggs, Ma Angie,’ I say.
‘Are you here to see me?’ he asks while standing behind his aunt. This is the first time I notice how handsome he actually is. He isn’t smiling, but his eyes are welcoming.
‘Yes, please,’ I say after clearing my throat. ‘Ma Angie, I will deliver the eggs tomorrow afternoon.’ She tells me to only deliver next week, then makes way for her nephew.
‘Hey, are you all right?’ he asks while closing the door behind him. It is now just the two of us outside in the dark. My heart is beating fast.
Why am I feeling like this? I should be ashamed of myself. The poor man is here to mourn and bury his brother. And me? I am busy staring at his broad shoulders and his handsome face.
Get it together, Thandeka.
‘I came to give you this.’ I take his hand, like he did mine, and place the money in his palm. I suck in a breath when I feel a tingling inside me. This feeling, so weird.
‘But I said you should keep it.’
‘I cannot keep this much money coming from a stranger. I can’t.’
‘I won’t be a stranger if you tell me your name and I tell you mine.’
‘I know your name.’ When he asks me for mine, I tell him.
‘Please keep this money, Thandeka. Please keep it.’
‘If you insist, I’ll just keep one thousand to cover the cost of the broken eggs. I honestly do not need the rest.’
‘Why don’t you keep it all? Then you can supply my aunt and family with eggs until what I gave you is depleted,’ he suggests before we are interrupted by the door opening behind us. No one comes out. ‘Look, they might be looking for me. We are about to have a meeting inside. I need to go.’ He takes my hand and closes my fingers around the notes. ‘Excuse me.’
Suddenly he seems very sad and I am reminded that the poor man has lost a sibling.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say as he walks into the house. ‘I’m sorry for