I still remember that day six months ago when Edwin walked into the counselling office. His face was solemn but his eyes were bright. He was wearing his old brown t-shirt which was getting much too small for him. He held his back straight and walked with confidence.
“Good afternoon,” he said. “My name is Edwin Mabaso and I am a hero.” His face split in a rare grin. “The sign outside said you help people. Well, my friend and I need help…”
Robert came into the room after him. “We need help to finish this chocolate,” he said, holding out a 200g slab. He laughed his naughty laugh. I knew who had planned this whole surprise.
“We are a team here,” I said, playing along. “Together, I am sure we can help you.” I went down the passage and gathered Pastor Elijah and Norma.
Robert told us all about the events of the day, handing over to Edwin now and then. Norma excused herself after one small piece of chocolate saying she had work to do but Pastor Elijah was enthralled by the story.
It wasn’t more than three weeks before Inspector Maloi and his team arrested the rest of the drug gang. One drug ring has been busted but there are more in Alex. No doubt their business will grow as a result of Sipho’s downfall. The rape murders stopped however. For now.
Eight months ago, my life was a mess. I could scarcely drag myself out of bed in the mornings. Now life is so busy, I barely have time for chocolate, or reading, although I certainly make time for them both.
Dora has retired. She and her sister have gone back to Zimbabwe to claim their parents’ farm and make it a working enterprise. I gave her a pension equal to two year’s salary and I think they have plans to raise chickens and sell eggs.
Edwin and I decided we could do the housework ourselves. We have got into a comfortable routine and he does a better job than I do. His speciality is washing dishes and cleaning. His mother trained him well, even though she only had him for the first nine years of his life.
It is Sunday today. Sundays are our busiest days. In fact, we can’t do everything we would like to. Last Sunday we went to visit the graves. It was Peter’s turn. Next month we’ll visit the memorial garden where Robert’s wife, Ruth, is commemorated. Edwin says it is keeping contact with the ancestors. The boat in the bottle looks perfect on Peter’s grave. We’ve had the bottle cemented in to a paving stone with a little plaque with the date and “Coming of Age” inscribed on it.
Inspired by the whole idea and a visit to Robert’s contact at Leeukop, Edwin has made two bottles for his parent’s graves. For his father, he’s built a car, using a long-nosed tool to position each piece meticulously together after he had roughly assembled them next to the bottle.
In his mother’s bottle is a rolled-up book of “The Lion and the Mouse,” together with two carved wooden animals, a lion and a mouse. It is important to Edwin that his parents can be proud of him and I’m sure they would be.
Two Sundays ago, Edwin and I went sailing. We have joined the yacht club that meets in Emmerentia. Robert and his grandchildren came to watch and to picnic by the side of the lake. I get on well with his Jo’burg son, Nathan, and his daughter-in-law, Sophi, but I know they are evaluating me as Robert spends more and more time with me. The boys are delightful. Jared is five and very vocal. He asks questions all the time. Lathan is seven and has just learned to read. Edwin loves to help him read. Christopher is nine with red hair and freckles and the mischief that goes with them. I can see he gives his parents a hard time. All three boys have inherited their grandfather’s naughty streak.
Neither Edwin nor I am a skilled sailor. Perhaps in the future, when we have had more experience, I might think about getting our own boat. Meanwhile we crew for two other people, Edwin for a young black man called Philemon who is being mentored by the club and is already raking in awards. My skipper is more sedate. She is the daughter of the chairman of the club and has been sailing since she was a girl. She has only just got her own dingy but I’m sure she will soon have her pick of young men eager to crew for her and I will be boatless.
Today, however, is the last Sunday of the month. It is the day Robert, Edwin and I attend the Keymar Methodist church. It is also the day we visit Stella and her Granny, Maria, in Alexandra. When I told Pastor Elijah about Maria’s Sunday lunch for the community and asked if we could borrow tables from the church once a month, he was very supportive and he often comes along to chat to the men who come for food.
Edwin packs the chicken pieces in the cool bag while I make potato salad. Although Maria and others from the yard will make pig pots of pap, I haven’t yet perfected the cooking method and the community is happy to have something different for a change.
Robert strides into the kitchen. “How much more do I need to fit in my SUV? It seems like every month there are more things to pack.” He grabs a spoon from a hanging rack and samples the potato salad. “Hmm, not bad,” he says, eyes twinkling, “Maybe it needs a bit more zest.”
“I’ll zest you,” I say, putting my hands on my hips and shaking the wooden spoon at him. “Leave my salad alone!”
A piece of potato flies off the spoon and lands on the wall.
“Now see what you’ve done!” Robert ducks away and carries the cold box out. Edwin gets a piece of kitchen paper and cleans the mess.
I scrape the salad into a large plastic container and seal the lid carefully. “We’re just about ready,” I say looking for my bag and my keys.
“I need to get books for Stella.” Edwin runs up the stairs and comes back with his cat bag slung over his shoulder.
As soon as Robert has parked on the sand outside the yard, a group of boys runs up and helps unpack the car under the direction of Edwin. We have introduced Maria to the concept of a charcoal fire. Three boys carry bags of charcoal to the half drums at the edge of the yard. Robert organises the setting up of the tables and we go inside with the cold boxes to greet Stella and her Granny.
“Sawubona, Gogo,” Edwin greets respectfully.
“Hau, you getting too big Boy! I hope you not getting into gangs in that fancy school of yours ! You mind your step hey! I’m keeping my eyes on you.”
“Edwin is doing well at his school,” I jump to his defence. “He hasn’t got a lot of friends but he has made a friend of a very nice boy from the Congo. Louis is great at maths at science. Between him and Edwin they are top of the class in most things.”
I am not sure if this is the right time to talk to Maria about Stella. She is stirring a big pot of pap on the stove. Deciding that things will get hectic soon, I jump right in.
“Maria, Stella will go to high school next year. You are doing a fantastic job of raising her. With your permission, I would like to pay for her to go to a convent in Wavecrest next year. They are strict with the girls and she will get an excellent education. I think Stella will do really well in a school like that.” I hold my breath. I don’t want to offend this feisty lady.
“Ha! You think you know what is good for my grandchild! I’ve looked after her since she was three. I know what is good for her!” She stirs vigorously. “I’ll think about it,” she says.
Well, at least I’ve planted the seed and made the offer.
People congregate from about eleven thirty. From then on it is just a merry-go-round of activity.
Once everybody has been fed and we are clearing up, Robert gathers the boys together. “Hero Club time!” he says. “Today we will talk about manners and rules. Then we will play soccer!”
I smile. Robert does have a heart for children. He’s been mentoring Edwin and teaching him the things his father would have taught him. Many of these boys also don’t have fathers. I don’t know how effective this once a month contact is, but it’s better than nothing.
“Would you like some tea, Gogo Kaye?” Stella asks in her soft voice. She has called me Gogo Kaye ever since Edwin brought her for counselling after her trauma.
“That will be lovely,” I say.
Maria sits back in her chair, exhausted. The tea soon revives her though.
“How’s Edwin’s community service going?” she asks.
“It’s going well,” I say, sipping the hot tea. “I take him on Saturday mornings and he has to work at the Animal Clinic in Soweto for three hours. He enjoys it and I suspect he might continue as a volunteer even when he has completed his service.”
“They should rather have more clinics for people instead of wasting time on animals. People shouldn’t keep animals. They make you sick.” She looks around at Stella. “Stella what you doing? Have you offered the major tea? Don’t stand around as if there’s no work to be done.” Stella goes outside.
After tea we prepare to go. After their soccer game, some boys stay to help pack the car again eager to impress the major. Others melt away.
As we leave Maria says, “I’m still thinking Mrs Kaye.” She purses her lips in what might pass for a smile.
Robert squeezes my hand. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”
“You think everything is fun. I think it is a lot of hard work.” I smile into his eyes.
Edwin gives a little skip. “It was good hard work,” he says.
“You are very bouncy,” I say. “Does it have anything to do with you and Stella sitting together telling secrets? I saw you two on the stoep.”
Edwin smiles sheepishly and changes the subject. “Major Blumm, I’ve grown ten centimetres in three months. One day I will be tall like you.”
I lie back in the car, thinking. Edwin has grown in so many more ways than height. He is a different person to the shadow that slunk into the counselling office that day. I think he has lost the super power of being invisible. He carries himself with confidence now.
I suppose he’s not the only one who has changed. When I think of how empty my life used to be and how full it now is, I also seem like a different person. I am looking forward to the future starting with getting home and sharing cappuccino and chocolate with the people I love.
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