As Tumi typed the full name into his search bar, his phone began to vibrate. Tumi looked at the screen of the phone and saw that Mohale had tried calling him twice already and had left a voice message. Tumi had been too distracted by his search to hear Mohale’s calls. He packed up his bag, sensing that something was out of place; his brother was rarely that persistent with getting in touch with him. He rushed out of the library and listened to the voicemail. His heart was racing as he heard the words: “Tumi, my brother, I need your help. I need to talk to you right away. Please. Can you come over to my place as soon as you get this? Thanks, abuti. Please hurry.”
Tumi panicked. It was the first time that Mohale had ever asked him for help like that. His brother had always been completely self-sufficient, and was always the one to help Tumi instead of the other way around. Something was clearly very wrong. Tumi had to get to his brother as soon as possible.
***
Tumi rushed up the stairs leading to Mohale’s second-floor flat in the Ridgemont Hills, the exclusive housing development a few miles away from Ridgemont University. He knocked on the door of the flat, out of breath. Mohale answered only a few seconds after Tumi knocked, his face showing a state of dread. Those ample lips and open eyes that usually made him so handsome now made him look like a small child who was lost in a supermarket. “Are you okay, Mohale? What’s going on?” Tumi asked as Mohale turned away from the door, stepping inside of the flat. Tumi walked in behind him, closing the door and looking around the flat.
The large, two-bedroom luxury flat was usually perfectly kept, with the expensive Italian furniture and paintings collected from travels to many different countries giving the space a feeling of elegance, like its owners had put thought and care into the image they presented. But now, there were takeout wrappers on the counters, and suitcases were half-packed in the living room. Mohale was pacing the length of the spacious flat, one hand on his forehead and the other on his hip. It was one of the few times Tumi had ever seen him in a t-shirt and jeans; even when they were just going to the movies together, Mohale was usually impeccably dressed.
Tumi walked closer to his clearly stricken brother, and touched his arm: “Talk to me, Mohale,” he said. “I’m here to help you, no matter what it is. Where is Vicky? And why are there suitcases all over the place?”
Mohale finally stood still, looking at his brother with panic in his eyes. He swallowed hard, struggling to get the words to form in his mouth. Tumi’s mind could hardly make sense of what he was seeing. He had never seen Mohale so much as admit to feeling unwell before. And now, his brother, the one Tumi had always been ashamed to admit any weakness to, seemed to be completely falling apart. “Tumi, Victoria left me. She says that she can’t do this anymore. We’ve been having some problems, but I never thought it would come to this.”
“What do you mean?” Tumi said, trying to keep his voice measured. “You guys are rock solid. What kind of problems would make her up and leave like this?”
“It’s been coming on for months now, Tumi. She told me that she wanted to quit her job, to spend more time on her interior decorating. We’ve been fighting about money, and she never wants to hear any of it. She says that she wants a man who can take care of her properly. I don’t know what to do anymore. All we’ve done for the past few months is fight, day in and day out. I don’t even know if she loves me anymore. The way she looks at me, all I feel is… like I’m disappointing her.” Mohale’s eyes were bloodshot, his voice breaking as he spoke. Tumi leaned in to hug his brother. Even though they had always been close, and were very loving and supportive with one another, they had almost never opened up to each other that bluntly. Mohale had always been the type of person who wanted to deal with problems on his own, and never admit that anything was wrong. Tumi had tried to emulate those qualities, always putting on a brave face even when he was hurting. Seeing Mohale so vulnerable was unnerving to Tumi. It was like seeing Superman use a curse word – something completely unthinkable.
Tumi said, “Mohale, I’m so sorry my brother. I had no idea. The two of you always seemed so happy. Even at dinner just a month ago you were talking about your plans to renovate and about another trip abroad together. Why didn’t you talk to me about this sooner?”
Mohale finally sat down on the brown leather sofa in the living room, and Tumi sat down next to him, folding his hands on his knees and waiting for his brother to respond. Mohale cleared his throat and said, “I didn’t want it to be true. I thought that if I just kept hoping and trying even harder to make her happy, that it would all work out. I don’t know what I’ll say to people. What will mom and dad say? Tumi, please don’t say anything to them yet. I need to figure out what I’m going to do first. I need to get my mind sorted out.”
Tumi poured his brother a whisky from the decanter near the kitchen. It smelled awful, but Mohale had assured him that it was some of the best whisky money could buy. He handed the glass to his brother, trying to comfort him as best he could, but Tumi had no experience with comforting Mohale and didn’t know if he was making things better or worse. Mohale sipped on the whisky, his eyes now seeming vacant. There were dark lines under his eyes, and his skin looked dry. Tumi said, “I wish you would’ve talked to me sooner, Mohale. You didn’t have to go through all of this alone. I want to be here for you.”
“I was ashamed, abuti,” Mohale said, still staring at the ground in front of him. “I wanted to be strong for everyone. Even you. I always felt like I needed to be a role model for you. How was I supposed to tell you that my marriage is failing? I’m just human, Tumi. I’m not the hero that you made me out to be.”
Tumi’s mind drifted. All these years, he had felt like he needed to be perfect, like he needed to project an image of someone who had everything together. That’s what his parents and his brother always did. That’s what Tumi thought it meant to be a Moketla. Now, seeing Mohale in that state, Tumi’s illusions were shattered. He felt conflicted. On the one hand, he felt closer to his brother in that moment than they had ever been, finally able to talk about the types of things the two of them often pushed aside. But it was hard to see Mohale falling apart like that. Tumi stretched his arm behind his brother’s back, pulling him in closely, and said, “We’ll get through this.” They sat together for hours, talking about their lives, sharing more than they had ever shared before. Even in such a vulnerable moment, Tumi was still unsure of whether he should tell Mohale about his encounter with Angela Ngcobo and the new information he had received about the man who might be his birth father. Mohale hadn’t asked about any of it, and Tumi reasoned that he was too distraught to deal with that information. He would have to talk to his brother after he visited the address he had found for the man called Hannes. He would have to walk the rest of that path on his own.
Chapter 15
Percy’s Pub was bustling as the students enjoyed their last few weeks of partying before the end of semester exams. Edgar sat at the bar, on his third gin and tonic, watching a group of guys playing pool and thinking back over his weekend with his aunt Celeste. It was good to be away from Ridgemont for a bit and to experience life by the seaside. It gave him a new appreciation for Cape Town, and helped him to unwind after the weeks of tension between himself and Tumi. After Edgar returned from his weekend away, nothing had changed between the roommates. It felt like just when one of them had started to warm up again, the other became completely withdrawn, and they were just always meant to be on the wrong wavelength with each other. Edgar had spent a lot more time at the library studying for his final exams and for mock court, and in the evenings he went to Hunters or Percy’s Pub just to avoid seeing Tumi. He would only have to put up with it all for one more month until he returned to London. But as he sat nursing his glass of gin and tonic, all he could think about was Tumi.
For some reason, Tumi had come to define Edgar’s time in South Africa. All of the conflict and confusion that Edgar felt were wrapped up in that one figure. Edgar’s mind flashed bac
k often to that night he and Tumi had spent in the law library, how they had talked and connected, and fallen asleep on makeshift beds. He thought, too, about the night he had first moved into Nova, and saw that Tumi would be his roommate. He was instantly excited. Something about Tumi made Edgar want to break through the tough exterior and see what Tumi was all about, and the way Tumi looked at him sometimes… He couldn’t think about it too much. He had to make sure that he didn’t get wrapped up in developing feelings for Tumi. Firstly, because Tumi seemed to be so cold towards him that Edgar’s feelings would probably be in vain, and secondly, because he was leaving the country and probably wouldn’t see Tumi again. He certainly had no intention of returning to South Africa.
As Edgar took another sip of his drink he felt his phone vibrating and checked the screen. It was Wesley’s cell phone number trying to call Edgar. For some reason, his brother had been trying to call Edgar throughout the day, but Edgar had no energy to deal with his brother. He hadn’t broken any of the rules Wesley had set in place, so there was really nothing to discuss. All he wanted to do was to be alone. He swiped his phone to end the call, and as he took the final sip of his drink, he called over the bartender to order another.
As he watched the pool game in the corner of the pub closely, thoughts of Tumi still swirling in his head, he felt a finger tap his shoulder. “Excuse me,” he heard the person behind him saying in a voice he recognized. His entire body froze as he began to realize who the voice belonged to. It couldn’t be. He turned around slowly, not yet willing to accept what he would find behind him. His eyes went wide when his fears were confirmed. There, staring back at him, was a flash of short combed red hair and brilliant green eyes. “Why haven’t you been answering my calls? We’ve been searching for you for hours!”
“Wesley?” Edgar called out, his voice so high and loud that he felt immediately embarrassed. “What are you doing here? How did you…” Edgar slowly realized that Wesley wasn’t alone. On either side of him Edgar saw another of his brothers. All three of them seemed annoyed, staring at Edgar with their bushy red eyebrows creased.
His eldest brother, Lawrence Jr., adjusted his glasses on his nose and said, “We had to go to the residence hall and ask the head about where you were. They called your roommate who said that you had probably come to this pub. If you had answered your phone, we wouldn’t have been running around town like headless chickens searching for you all night.”
Thomas, the brother who was only two years older than Edgar, scratched at his long mop of hair. Thomas had always been the least uptight of Edgar’s brothers, even though he had followed in their footsteps to work at the family business. Thomas said, “Drinking gin and tonics while your brothers have to wander the streets? Shame on you, Eddie.” He reached out his hand to shake Edgar’s shoulder in greeting, but Lawrence and Wesley still just looked on disdainfully.
“What are you all doing here?” Edgar blurted out. He felt his cheeks flush and felt small in the presence of his three older brothers. Why would they all come halfway around the world just to see him?
Wesley gave a sigh of annoyance and rolled his eyes. He said, “We’re lucky we even got here in one piece. Haven’t you heard how unsafe this country is? And you’re galivanting around town on your own like this… Shouldn’t you be studying for exams anyway?”
Lawrence raised his eyebrow, his spectacles falling down his nose again at the gesture: “Father asked us to check up on you. We were here for a business deal with a local exporter, and we decided to all come so that we could see what you’re up to. After your stunt that cost him a thousand pounds, you’ve been suspiciously quiet lately and we wanted to make sure that you’re not misbehaving again.”
Edgar was taken completely off guard. He couldn’t believe that his father would send all three of his brothers to babysit him like this. A big part of why he wanted to come to South Africa was to finally get away from his family and be his own man. In that moment, he felt like he would never escape them.
Thomas ordered some drinks and sat down next to Edgar, giving a genial smile. He said to Lawrence and Wesley, “Oh come on, give Eddie a break! Let’s all have a drink together. It looks like our little brother isn’t misbehaving too much. Maybe he’s changed his ways after all.” The bartender brought over a tray of shots and a few beers, and Thomas handed the shots to each of his brothers. “Come on, guys, we might as well enjoy ourselves while we’re here. Are you well, Eddie?”
Edgar softened slightly. Thomas had always been the kindest to Edgar while they were growing up, even though he was also prone to teasing the youngest brother at times. At least he wasn’t as sanctimonious and stuck up as Lawrence and Wesley were. The brothers all took shots together and soon the mood lightened. They found a booth and had a few more beers together, but the brothers still found a way to make Edgar feel like a small child even when they were socializing. They sent Edgar to get more drinks each time. As Edgar walked back with three beers, he stumbled and spilled a bit. Wesley called out, “What are you doing, Eddie? Don’t be so clumsy! That’s how you ended up breaking that expensive vase that father had to pay for. Walk up straight! You look like a common hooligan!”
Edgar found his composure and placed the beers on the table. Thomas and Lawrence were laughing, seemingly not noticing how much Wesley’s words were affecting Edgar. Wesley was usually a dry and bitter person, but when he had a few drinks, his personality completely changed. After a beer, he became loud and obnoxious, and his teasing and belittling of Edgar became much more aggressive in tone. Edgar tried to ignore it, but his blood was boiling.
After a few more rounds of beers and shots, Edgar listening to his brothers being negative about everything they had experienced in South Africa and comparing Ridgemont unfavorable to Cambridge, where they had all studied, Thomas finally said, “Let’s go back to your room, Eddie. Show us how you’re living here. What do you say?” Lawrence and Wesley nodded in agreement, Wesley giving an annoying holler of enthusiasm that made Edgar cringe.
“I don’t think so, guys. Not tonight,” Edgar said. “My roommate isn’t really the type of guy who likes surprises. Why don’t we wait until tomorrow when he’s in class and you can come and see the room? It looks like you could all use a good night’s rest anyway. It might be time to call it a night…” Edgar was hopeful, but the look on his brothers’ faces showed him that his attempt to get rid of them was doomed.
“Oh, nonsense!” Lawrence called out, now looking equally as drunk as Wesley. Both of them were bleary-eyed and slurring their speech. “Let’s go right now! Come on, don’t be such a party pooper, Eddie! We came all this way to visit you and you’re trying to get rid of us. It’s only…” he looked at his watch, “…midnight! The night is still young! Let’s see if we can get the bartender to sell us a bottle of gin and we can continue with the fun.”
Edgar panicked inside. Tumi would not be happy if he showed up at the room with three drunken Boatwrights who were clearly in no mood to end the night early. Edgar had to put his foot down. “Sorry, I just can’t tonight. It would be very unfair to my roommate. We both have classes in the morning and I think it’s better if…”
But before Edgar could finish, Wesley was on his feet, “Eddie, do be quiet! I’ll get the bottle of gin. If Eddie doesn’t want to join us, we’ll just go and look at the room on our own.”
Edgar could see that he was fighting a losing battle. He took his phone out of his pocket and tried to call Tumi, but there was no response. He knew that Tumi would be livid; he could see the look of disapproval on Tumi’s face already. But there was no stopping his brothers when they wanted something.
***
Loud, drunken song rang through the halls of Nova as the Boatwright boys made their way towards Edgar’s room. It was strictly against the rules to be noisy in the halls after 11 p.m. during the weeks leading up to exam times. Edgar tried to hush them, but Thomas pulled a face and said, “Don’t worry so much, Eddie. We’re not hurting anyone
.” Edgar wanted to tell them that they would probably cause him to get a fine the next day, something that was common when rules were broken in Nova, but he bit his tongue. Boatwright men were never opposed to buying their way out of trouble.
Wesley and Thomas had their arms around each other’s shoulders, and Wesley was in the middle of a crude joke as they finally stepped in front of the door to Edgar’s room. Edgar shook his head. He looked at Wesley and wondered how someone who could be so strict and bland when he was sober could be such a force of nature when he had a few drinks. Wesley was looking green in the face; the shots had clearly gotten to him, and he was enjoying the freedom that a foreign country brought him. Edgar had no idea how he would explain all of the confusion to Tumi, but he knew that if he didn’t get in front of the situation and try to control his brothers, that they would simply storm into his room anyway and things would be even worse.
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