He took out the phone and answered, mustering all of his strength to say hello. The voice on the other end of the line was familiar, suave: “Evening, Tumi. Can you meet me at the entrance to the auditorium near the main administration building? There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
“Not now, Edgar. It’s not a good time.” Tumi felt like he was close to tears as he said the words.
“Trust me. Minister Ngcobo only has ten minutes before she has to leave for the airport. If you run, you can still catch her.”
Tumi gasped audibly. He wanted to ask a million questions, but he got to his feet without even ending the call, and he was off into the night like a flash. His mind was swirling. How had Edgar managed to pull this off? How did he even know that Tumi was so desperate to meet Angela Ngcobo?
Tumi finally arrived at the entrance Edgar had directed him to. Two burly bodyguards stood next to an open car door, the engine of the dark blue luxury BMW purring gently. Next to the bodyguards, laughing with Edgar, was Ngcobo. She looked radiant, elegant in her black and red outfit. Tumi felt his feet turn to jelly. He dragged himself closer to the scene, and already felt beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He hadn’t though that this would be how he met her…
Edgar smiled broadly when he noticed Tumi. “There you are!” he called out as Tumi approached. “Minister Ngcobo, this is my roommate Tumi Moketla. He is a huge fan of yours. He even keeps newspaper clippings of your appearances and has bought all of your novels.” Tumi cringed. Was he that obvious? He had been reading up about Ngcobo a lot over the past weeks, and Edgar must’ve seen the clippings and books lying around their room. Edgar continued, “He was in line to ask you a question but time ran out. I wanted you to meet him before you have to leave.” Edgar turned to Tumi and said, “Ms. Ngcobo used to do business with my father before she went into government. They’re still good friends. She offered to stick around to meet one of my friends.”
Tumi reached out to shake Ngcobo’s hand, a jolt of nerves shooting through him as he looked into her eyes. Was this really happening?
Ngcobo spoke with her warm, enveloping voice. “Moketla, as in Koena and David Moketla’s son?” Tumi nodded, feeling embarrassed. “I met your parents once years ago. You come from a very impressive family.”
Tumi turned to Edgar with a look of thanks, trying to signal with his eyes that he needed some privacy, and Edgar got the message, excusing himself and wishing Ngcobo safe travels. “I’ll see you back at the room, Tumi.” He walked off into the night, probably not even knowing what his gesture truly meant to Tumi.
It was time for Tumi to say what he had come to say. “Minister Ngcobo,” he said, and he felt his brain stand still. He couldn’t find the words that he had been rehearsing for weeks, and instead simply reached into his pocket to pull out the picture of a woman and a two-year-old boy in front of a roaring fire. He showed her the picture and said, “I’m sorry for being so blunt, but I need to know if this is you.”
Ngcobo took the picture from him and looked at it closely, her eyes creased in concentration. The seconds went by like hours, and finally she looked up at Tumi and said, “This can’t be me. I remember the fire in the township. My brother lost his shack in the flames. I was there during that time, but I left only days before the fire. And besides, I never had a child. I was never able to have children. It was one of the great heartaches of my life.”
Tumi felt his whole world shatter in an instant. He had put all of his hope into the moment with Ngcobo, thinking that it would finally give him everything he had been searching for. And now, those dreams were destroyed.
Ngcobo noticed the sad look on his face, and asked, “What’s wrong, young man? I can see that this news hurts you. Is that young boy in the picture you? Ah, yes, there is a resemblance. But why would the son of the Moketlas be at that shack fire?” Her eyes were soft and sympathetic, and Tumi felt almost ashamed for making such a big assumption about her just based on circumstantial evidence and a vague resemblance. He wanted to disappear.
“This woman in the picture… I believe she’s my birth mother. I was adopted by the Moketla family, but I was born in the township. My birth mother disappeared without a trace, and I’ve been searching for her for a long time. I thought that…”
“You thought it was me?” Ngcobo asked. She put her hand on Tumi’s shoulder, and suddenly she didn’t seem like the no-nonsense politician that Tumi knew her as. The gesture was comforting in that difficult time. “Tumi, I’m sorry. I wish I could help you.” Ngcobo looked at the picture that she held in her hand, the newspaper clipping showing little more than a silhouette of a woman. She studied it closely, and suddenly a spark of recognition ignited in her eye. “Wait…” she said, and Tumi’s heart stood still. “This girl… At the time, I was involved with many of the political organizations in the township, and I met many people. There was a man, Hannes. He was part of the labor movement. One day, he brought in a young girl and a little boy, couldn’t have been older than a year…” Ngcobo looked at the picture and then looked closely at Tumi’s face, a smile slowly stretching over her lips. “It just might be! He was a kind man, very hardworking and driven. He always told me that he wanted to work for a better life for his son.” Ngcobo pointed at the picture, and said, “I can’t be completely sure, but I think that this was the young woman, the mother of his child. If you can track down Hannes or his family, I think you might find your answers. I’m sorry, I don’t even know his last name…”
Tumi thanked Ngcobo for talking to him, and said that she had been very helpful. She shook his hand again, wishing him luck on his journey, and drove off in the BMW.
Tumi felt numb inside. He had no idea if the information which Ngcobo had given him would lead anywhere, nothing more than a first name of a man who might be his father. He wondered if it would be better for him to just give up on trying to find his birth parents. As he walked back in the direction of Nova, he felt like a piece of driftwood. The night had led him to even more questions. He looked up at the clear night sky, the faint stars looking down at him. He had no idea if he would ever find the answers he was looking for. He wondered if it was even worth continuing his search. But he was grateful that he had gotten the chance to speak to Ngcobo, to know for sure that she wasn’t his birth mother. And he was determined to find out as much as he could about the man she had told him about, the man named Hannes.
Chapter 13
Over the following few days, things became even more tense between Edgar and Tumi. Edgar had though that introducing Tumi to Angela Ngcobo would make him happy, but ever since her speech Tumi had become even more withdrawn. Edgar decided that he needed some time away, and finally decided to call his aunt Celeste, his mother’s sister, who lived near the beach at Kalk Bay, south of Cape Town city. Celeste was delighted to hear from Edgar, and was happy to invite him over for a weekend at her home. He hadn’t seen her in years; she occasionally visited her nephews in England, but Edgar had never really gotten to know her all that well. He had wanted to visit her when he first arrived in South Africa, eager to reconnect with different parts of his mother’s life before she left the country, but he had never worked up the nerve to call her. Perhaps the sense of disillusionment was too strong for him after he had arrived and not found what he was looking for. But now, the chance to escape the dark cloud that was Tumi seemed appealing to him. It felt like no matter what Edgar did, Tumi would find a reason to be annoyed with him. Even when Edgar introduced him to the politician that he clearly was a big fan of, Tumi returned to the room with barely a word.
Edgar drove down the coast towards Kalk Bay, right next to the train tracks that lined the breathtaking scene. The ocean spread out in brilliant blue next to the road, and as Edgar arrived in the quiet oceanside town, a row of quaint restaurants, bookstores and antique shops were right next to the road overlooking the sea. His aunt’s home was a few blocks away from the center of the town, and he saw the magnificent homes that were found in the ex
clusive areas of the southern suburbs of Cape Town. Edgar pulled up at his aunt’s address, a long road leading up through tall gates. On either side of the road, a statue of a roaring lion looked out at the oncoming cars. The gardens of the home were spectacular; picturesque trees and brightly-colored blossoms lined a small park with some shaded benches. Three dachshunds were roaming the gardens, and noticing Edgar’s car, made their way to the main house at an easy pace. They were curious to see who the unexpected guest turned out to be. Edgar pulled up into the driveway and stepped out of the car, hearing a loud squeal just as he turned to lock his car door. He turned on his heel to see his aunt Celest at the front entrance of the house.
“Edgar! Is that you? It can’t be! You’re too grown up to be my sweet little Edgar!” The larger-than-life woman was rushing towards Edgar from the front door of the house. Her arms were already outstretched, and the rows of chains and baubles she wore were jangling as she ran. Her bright red hair, the same color as Edgar’s and his mother’s, was in a frizzy tangle. She wore extremely red lipstick like Edgar had always seen her wearing whenever she visited, and he knew that in a few moments his face would be covered in smears of lipstick.
“Hi, Aunt Celeste! It’s great to see you. It’s been so long!” Edgar said, trying to smile as his aunt grabbed him in a hug and planted kisses on his cheeks. “You look well.”
“You look splendid, my darling!” she responded, her dreamy green eyes looking up at Edgar. “But you’re so skinny! Come inside so I can fatten you up.” She dragged Edgar by his arm, and he felt like he was whisked away to a fantastical alternate reality. Everything about Celeste seemed magical, and it always cheered Edgar up to be around her.
As he entered the house, he could smell incense and saw a grand piano against the far wall of the living room. On the piano were countless pictures of Edgar and his brothers, as well as pictures of Celeste standing with Edgar’s mother, Sophia, when they were young girls. A grandfather clock was ticking peacefully in a corner, and many of the couches and chairs were decorated with brightly-colored throws and ornamental pillows. Celeste instructed Edgar to take a seat while she went to the kitchen to fetch refreshments, and Edgar walked over to the pictures on the grand piano, looking closely at each one.
He picked up a picture of his mother when she was about his age. He could see himself in her. The picture showed her smiling, looking radiant in an open field. She was strikingly beautiful. Edgar remembered how she would always make him feel so comforted when he felt like an outsider with his brothers. Wesley and Lawrence used to tease him a lot when he was younger, and would often pick on him when he tried to join in their games. His mother would always defend him and scold his brothers, and tell Edgar that he had something that they could never have, a gentle heart. Somehow, that thought always comforted Edgar as a child, but once his mother was gone, it only made him feel worse when his brothers picked on him.
Edgar heard Celeste’s voice over his shoulder, “Sophia was always the life of the party. I always wished that she had waited a bit longer to get married. There were so many men who fell madly in love with her, but she chose your father.” Catching herself, Celeste quickly said, “Oh, no offense, my boy. I’ve made peace with all of it now. But that light in Sophia seemed to become just a little bit dimmer when she married Larry. It never really came back until you were born.” At this, Celeste gave a mischievous smile, and presented Edgar with a tray of marzipan and chocolates. “Eat something, boy, you look like a stiff breeze could knock you over at any second.”
Edgar took one of the chocolates from the tray and said to his aunt, “I miss her so much. You were one of her favorite people, Aunt Celeste. She always told me how much she wished that she could come and visit you here in South Africa, and not only see you every second Christmas when you came to England. But father hated the idea of ever letting her come back here. He said it was too dangerous. I’m sure he thought the same thing when I told him I was coming for a semester.”
Celeste gave a hearty laugh, and sat down on a beautiful floral-design chair next to a coffee table. She ate three of the chocolates and said, “Larry was always such a fuddy-duddy. Such a bitter man. He’s one of those people who was old as soon as he came out of the womb. Not like Sophia. She was always a gentle soul. Just like you, Edgar.”
Edgar gave an uncomfortable laugh, and said, “Oh, I’m not that gentle anymore, Aunt Celeste. I’m a cold-blooded law student these days.”
“Nonsense!” Celeste said bluntly. “You’re still the same old loving Edgar. The same old angel. That’s why you were always my favorite.” Edgar enjoyed a few more treats with his aunt before carrying his bags up to the room that she had made up for him to stay in over the weekend. He was glad that he had decided to visit her. For the first time since he had arrived in South Africa, he could see a part of what he remembered in his mother.
***
That evening, Celeste had decorated one of the benches in the garden with a long blue tablecloth and a tall candelabra. Edgar and Celeste shared a glass of wine, and she cooked him one of his favorite South African meals, a meaty, spicy dish with an egg base called bobotie. Edgar savored every bite; his mother had cooked the meal for Edgar and his brothers when they were children, but his father always detested it. The wine was flowing and Edgar and Celeste were becoming much more comfortable with each other. Celeste shared stories of her own childhood, and even told Edgar about her one great love who had betrayed her when she was still young, ruining men for her forever. “I’ll never love again,” she said dramatically. Edgar could see that someone with a personality like Celeste’s probably meant everything she said.
She pushed her frizzy red hair back after a big gulp of wine, her rosy cheeks showing that she was becoming quite intoxicated, and stared at Edgar closely. “So tell me,” she said, “is there anyone that’s stolen your heart the way my Hendrik stole mine all those years ago?”
Edgar shifted in his seat, unsure of what to say. His mind immediately went to Tumi, and he wondered why he would think of the guy who was doing nothing but driving him crazy over the past weeks. But he had to admit that there was a spark with Tumi, an attraction despite their constant squabbles. “There might be someone,” Edgar said, “but he’s confusing me more than anything else. We have a tumultuous relationship to say the least.”
“Oh!” Celeste exclaimed, her head shooting back with excitement. “All of the great love affairs start out with fireworks! Drama, conflict, driving each other crazy until you can’t live with or without each other and you end up tearing each other’s clothes off in the throes of passion! You’re lucky to have someone like that in your life.”
Edgar laughed uproariously, the wine getting to him too. “I wouldn’t count myself as lucky with the way he’s acting right now.”
Celeste’s eyes became dreamy again, like she was lost in nostalgia. She said, so soft that it was almost a whisper, “I always thought that Sophia deserved that kind of love. But she had a great love in her life; she loved this country. Do you know that when we all left, when it seemed like things were being damaged beyond repair, I always saw Sophia as the one who would come back? She used to read so many books that were banned, my father sneaking them in from his family in England even when we were still young. She wanted to be even more involved with politics back then. We all thought that she was crazy, and my father forced her to emigrate to England when it looked like things wouldn’t get better. I remember how she cried on the day we left. She loved this place. And she hated the things that were happening in the country when we were girls. She wished that she could do more, but at the time my family didn’t see any hope that things would get better. And here we are, a country united. If only she could see this…”
Edgar interjected, “Not that united, if you ask me, Aunt Celeste. Things are still a mess here. I think I agree with granddad on this one.”
“Nonsense!” Celeste responded, her eyes animated. “We’ve come so far. So very far…
”
They shared another glass of wine before Edgar retired to his room. He had been given a lot to think about by his aunt. He, too, wished that his mother could see the country of her birth again. He wondered what she would say about it…
Chapter 14
The semester was slowly winding down and many students began to realize that they had to spend more time with their books. Tumi had been spending his days in the Ridgemont University archives and library to try to piece together the information he had been given by Angela Ngcobo. He had found out that the labor movement in the township kept extensive records, and he had even found reference to a man called Hannes in some of the minutes from their meetings. Luckily, copies of the documents were all stored at the archives, but Tumi had spent endless hours poring through the hundreds of files to find something concrete.
The library was fairly empty as Tumi sat there on a Sunday afternoon looking for more clues about who Hannes was. Edgar had been away all weekend, visiting his aunt who lived in Kalk Bay, and Tumi was relieved that he didn’t have to deal with Edgar during such a confusing time. Things between them had become unbearably tense. Tumi felt conflicted, since Edgar had done him a huge favor by introducing him to Ngcobo, but he was so discouraged by learning that she was not who he thought she was that it was hard to express gratitude to Edgar. Of course, Edgar had taken this as a slight, and was becoming increasingly irritable with Tumi. The weekend apart was exactly what they both needed.
Tumi opened another file and immediately sat straight up in his chair, his eyes hardly believing what he was seeing. In front of him was an address book of the registered members of the labor movement in the township. Surely, if Hannes was a member, there would be much more information about him. The address book was indexed by surname and initial, and Tumi scanned through all of the names to try and find an H. He cross referenced every H he found with the more detailed entries in the address book, giving full names and addresses for about twenty years before in the township, before the fire wiped out many of the homes. He went back and forth from index to full names: Gigaba, H., belonged to someone named Hazel; Cele, H., was Hector… There was no Hannes in the list. Finally, after an hour of searching and as Tumi reached the final H name, he felt hopeless. If it was simply a nickname, there would be no way to trace what the real name was of the man who might have been Tumi’s father. He went to the computer next to him on the desk in the library, and typed into the search bar: “Hannes is short for”. As he typed in the words a series of unrelated results showed up. Tumi scrolled down the list until he finally saw something that showed promise: a man who was often called Hannes but whose full name was Johannes. Tumi went through the records again, searching for anyone with the name Johannes. He gasped audibly when he saw a match. A man named Siyabonga Johannes Maseko had been registered as a member of the labor movement in the township. An address was listed for the man, and Tumi quickly jotted it down. Could this clue finally lead Tumi to finding his birth parents?
Swift Justice Page 8
