“We’re going to find her.” Thandi took away the coffee cup he had removed from the cupboard. “No time for coffee now, Parksie. We need to go.”
She revved the car as Parks pulled on his jacket and they sped off. “Careful,” said Parks nervously, as they narrowly missed a dog on the side of the road. Thandi kept her foot down flat on the accelerator, jumping red traffic lights and stop streets until they reached the local hospital.
“We’re looking for a girl called Busi – she’s my niece. She’s just had her baby and we’ve got lots of things for her. We must see her urgently!” Thandi shouted to the receptionist.
Parks groaned inwardly. They were just going to draw attention to themselves if Thandi behaved like it was a matter of life and death.
Unperturbed, the receptionist searched her list for what seemed like ages and then looked at them. “No Busi here.”
“She must be!” said Thandi in frustration. “She can’t be anywhere else.” She turned to Parks. “Where do you think …” But then she turned back to the receptionist, a pleased look on her face. “She is scared of her parents – maybe she gave a different name. I know she came in yesterday, so she must be here still.”
“The only young girl who came in yesterday was a girl called Thandi Mbethe,” said the receptionist.
“Thandi Mbethe – that’s my–” spluttered Thandi.
Parks squeezed her hand. “That’s who we are looking for,” he said smoothly. “Where is she, please?”
“She’s in Ward 24,” said the receptionist. “But you can’t go there now. It’s not visiting hours or anything. Hey!” she called after them, but Thandi had already rushed off, followed by Parks.
They darted down the passages, bumping into wheelchairs and stretchers and startling nurses who were unable to stop them. Breathless, Thandi pushed open the door to Ward 24. They scanned the beds.
“What are you doing here?” a nurse asked.
“Where’s Busi – I mean Thandi Mbethe?” asked Parks.
The nurse shrugged. “She left early this morning without even telling us. She’s gone.”
“No-o-o-o!” Thandi wailed.
“Come on,” said Parks, pulling his wife away from the nurse who was looking at her suspiciously. “She can’t be far. We’ll find her.”
Back in the car Thandi’s face looked severe. “It’s now or never. This is the last chance – for me, and for you, Parks.”
Parks’s mouth was dry with fear.
Chapter 16
The taxi swung into the dark street near the church, its headlights flashing across the high brick walls of the church building. Busi moved across the seats as the taxi stopped. Her feet reached for the pavement, and she felt the firm hand of the gaadjie on her arm as her feet touched the cold grey tar.
Looking back, she saw a frown of concern on the gaadjie’s face. “Enkosi,” she said absently, and turned to face the church as she heard the door slide shut.
The taxi pulled away.
Busi quickly crossed the tarred parking lot in front of the church, heading for a clump of trees and shrubs growing to one side. She stepped under the dark shelter of the trees and looked towards the building.
The entrance was floodlit by large lights. Busi blinked and then looked down at her sleeping baby. She snuggled her closer.
In the wall on one side of the entrance Busi could see a large rectangle of silver metal. The “Baby Safe”. She breathed a sigh of relief. There it was. She stepped a little closer. She could feel her heart beating faster in her breast. She looked down at her baby once again. The little girl was beginning to stir. Busi felt a prickling sensation in her breasts and an instant later felt the front of her shirt wet with milk. Her baby stirred again and made a low, whimpering sound.
Busi began to walk. “Do it now,” she said to herself, stepping out from the shelter of the trees. “Come on, Busi.”
Busi continued to speak gently to herself as she crossed the damp, dark green lawn in front of the church building. She glanced over her shoulder, suddenly imagining that Parks and his wife were pulling up in the car park in their black car. There was no one there. The street was deserted.
In five long strides Busi found herself in front of the wide silver drawer set into the wall. She reached out with one hand and wrapped her fingers around the silver handle on the drawer. It was hard and icy cold.
Busi looked up and read the instructions printed on a square of silver metal set into the wall above the safe.
Press the green button to open
the safe. The safe will open.
Place the baby into the safe. Shut
the door. When it is sealed the
red light will show.
Busi pressed the green button. She felt the safe unlock as she pulled on the handle, and the drawer began to open.
Carefully she shifted her baby in her arms. The drawer yawned open. She peered inside. It was padded and she could feel warmth coming from it. Busi looked down at her baby and the little girl opened her eyes and looked up at her. It was too much to bear. Through her tears the baby’s face blurred until she could hardly see her any more. Slowly, gently, Busi moved her baby out from under her coat. Her hands were trembling so badly that she was afraid she might drop the baby as she lifted her up towards the safe.
A pain like no other she had ever felt before was tearing, searing, burning in her chest. For a moment it felt to her as if she would fall to the ground. She cried out, but then bit her lip to silence herself.
Busi lowered her baby into the safe and as she touched her for the last time, sobs began to rack her body. She placed the letter, crumpled now and stained with tears, on top of the bundled blanket. Then she looked away, and, placing both hands on the safe handle, Busi slowly shut the safe. Instantly the red light went on.
Busi turned from the safe and ran.
She crossed the damp lawn again, and stumbled back in amongst the trees and shrubs on the edge of the church yard. She fought her way through the vegetation until she found a protected place near the church wall, behind a tree with low, hanging branches. She sank down onto the moist soft soil and fallen leaves, pressing her hands to her mouth to stifle uncontrollable gasps of grief.
* * *
It was the longest three minutes of Busi’s life.
“Where are they?” she said aloud to herself, “Why doesn’t anyone come?”
Panic surged inside her. What if her baby remained sealed in the safe and nobody came? What if she could not get her out again? What if she was hungry and began to cry?
Busi was just beginning to move out again from behind the tree when she saw a small red car swinging around the corner. Its headlights flashed along the church wall as it turned, very quickly, into the church parking lot.
Busi hid behind the tree again.
The door on the passenger’s side of the car opened, flooding the interior of the car with light so that Busi could see two people inside. A woman leapt out and ran towards the church building, carrying a large bag in one hand. A man slammed the driver’s door and ran after her. The woman with the bag reached the church door first. Busi could hear their voices as they quickly unlocked the large door, and went inside.
“Yes, it has been activated,” she heard the woman say. “It looks like there’s a baby inside.”
And then both of them disappeared inside the church building.
Busi stayed hidden amongst the plants and trees in the far corner of the church yard as she watched the sky turn pink and orange with the arrival of dawn.
She remained still, and waited.
Eventually she heard the door open, and both the man and the woman came out. They walked closely together, the man carrying the bag and the woman carrying Busi’s baby, now warmly wrapped up in a large pink blanket.
Busi pushed her face up against the hard bark of
the tree trunk, feeling its roughness. Every part of her wanted to cry out to them; her whole being wanted to run out from behind the tree and take her baby from them.
But Busi did not move. Her breath came out in short, sharp sobs, and she pressed her fist into her mouth so that she would not be heard.
The woman climbed into the car and Busi could see her bending over her baby and cuddling her close.
The man opened his door, and then paused as he looked around the church grounds. “I don’t think she is far away,” he said aloud, before he climbed into the car. “This must have been the hardest thing for her to do. I hope she knows that her baby is totally safe with us. I wish there was a way to let her know that we will care for her child in the very best way that we can.”
And then he got into the car, closed the door, and drove away.
Busi sank to her knees. She buried her face in the soft, damp leaves and clutched handfuls of the dark soil. The sky was light when she slowly stood up again. Unseen, she climbed out from among the shrubs, and, unseen, she stumbled back into the street, now busy with morning traffic. Her face was muddy and tear-stained, and her swollen breasts ached.
Chapter 17
Busi kept walking for a long time, her eyes fixed on the pavement. Eventually she reached a shopping mall where she found a taxi going in the direction of her home.
Busi fumbled in the pocket of her coat and found a collection of coins. It was enough to pay for her fare.
“Hayi xeko!” said a woman to Busi as she squeezed in next to her in the taxi. The woman clicked her tongue.
Busi looked down at her hands. She saw now that they were covered in dirt, grass and dried mud. Pieces of twigs and dried leaves were stuck in her braids, and she absent-mindedly pulled at them.
Busi sighed and looked down into her lap. Her gogo’s yellow winter coat was covered in mud stains.
I suppose they think I’ve been drinking, or sleeping in the bushes, getting up to no good, thought Busi to herself.
She didn’t care. She sat slumped in her seat, holding her bag loosely on her lap. Her body felt battered, and her breasts still felt full and uncomfortable. How strange to feel her arms so empty. They had never before felt so empty, so light.
When the taxi came to a stop in her neighbourhood Busi stepped down onto the street. She looked around for a moment to make sure there was nobody around that she knew and then she began to walk in the direction of her house.
She was concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, her head down, watching her feet move from under her – heel toe, heel toe – when suddenly she became aware of a vehicle moving slowly alongside her in the street.
Busi turned her head to one side, and blinked at it from behind her dangling braids. It was Parks’s wife’s car! Thandi was in the driver’s seat, with the window down.
Instantly Busi began to walk faster. Parks was in the passenger seat. As the car got closer to her he leaned across the driver’s seat and started shouting through the open window.
“You’ve had the baby!” he yelled. “You’ve had the baby, haven’t you? We went to the hospital. Where is it?”
Busi gathered all the strength she had left and, trailing her bag from one hand, she began to run as fast as she could.
Behind her she heard the car accelerate.
“What have you done with our baby?” she heard Thandi’s voice screaming after her.
* * *
Busi ducked down an alleyway and ran between the houses, turning down narrow streets and running deeper and deeper into a maze of small lanes until she could no longer hear Parks.
She stopped for a moment and leant, panting, behind an outside toilet in someone’s yard. She looked around then, unsure of where she was.
“Busi! What are you doing here?”
Busi looked around quickly and searched, with relief, for the familiar voice.
“Unathi!” she said, turning towards him as he walked towards her, smiling. It was not the first time he had appeared just when she needed him the most. “Unathi,” she said again, watching his expression change as he became aware of her dishevelled appearance, “you’ve got to help me.”
“Come,” said Unathi.
Busi realised then that it was still early, and Unathi must be on his way to school. Maybe he even had an exam to write. But Unathi didn’t hesitate for a moment.
“Come with me, Busi,” he said, placing a reassuring arm around her shoulder. “Come, this way.” Unathi led Busi quickly to his house and opened the door for her.
“It’s OK,” he said, “my dad has already left for work. There’s no one here.”
Unathi closed and locked the door behind them, and then took Busi’s arm and led her to an armchair. Busi sank down into it and closed her eyes.
Unathi took a bottle of Coke from the fridge, poured Busi a large glass and gave it to her. “Drink this,” he urged her as he pushed it into her hand. “You look like you could do with some sugar.”
Busi sipped the Coke slowly and gratefully, feeling a little strength returning to her body.
“Tell me what’s happened,” said Unathi after a moment. Then he paused, and looked at Busi carefully. “You’ve had the baby, haven’t you?” He couldn’t be sure, as Busi was still wearing her gogo’s large coat.
Busi sat in the chair, her body slumped. She sipped and nodded slightly.
“But where is the baby now?” asked Unathi, alarmed. “What have you done, Busi?”
“Don’t you need to get to school?” answered Busi. Her voice was tired.
“Never mind that,” said Unathi, coming to kneel beside Busi, and looking anxiously into her face. Perhaps he did love her still.
“Where is your baby, Busi?” he asked again.
“Safe,” said Busi. She looked intently into Unathi’s face. Then, after a long pause, knowing that she could trust him, she added, “But Parks is out there, Unathi. And he’s angry. He’s after me, Unathi. Him and his wife, they want the baby. They want to take the baby away from me.” Busi began to cry softly.
Unathi sat on the armrest of Busi’s chair and put his arm around her. He patted her shoulder to comfort her. “It’s OK, Busi,” he said softly.
She had imagined Unathi’s arms around her in the last few months, but not like this – not when she felt so tired, so utterly spent.
“Listen, Busi,” he said, “I will go to your house alone, and see if Parks is anywhere around. I’ll get you some things if you like.” He brushed some leaves off her back. “You must stay here. Then you can rest, have a bath, and I’ll make you something to eat.”
He stood up and looked down at her. “But, Busi, you need to tell me what you have done with your baby. You haven’t done anything silly, have you?”
“No, no, Unathi,” said Busi. “I promise you she is safe.” But she couldn’t tell him yet what she had done. Had she just made the biggest mistake of her life, giving her baby away to strangers?
Chapter 18
“We’ve lost her!” Thandi shrieked. “You stupid fool, we’ve lost her!” Parks did not point out that she was the one driving.
“Calm down, Thandi,” he said. “I tell you what. Let me take you back home. She is more likely to give the baby to me. I can still get her to listen. She still …” but he stopped. If he told Thandi that he knew Busi still had feelings for him, she would fly off the handle.
Thandi opened her mouth to say something.
“Remember, Thandi,” said Parks, “you have everything. She has nothing. She won’t want to give it to you. But she may give it to me.”
Thandi sat silently for a moment, hands on the steering wheel. Her painted nails were chipped where she had picked off the varnish.
“All right,” she said, “take me home. But come back here quickly to get my baby!” She began to cry and moved across to the pass
enger seat so that Parks could get in on the driver’s side.
Parks breathed a sigh of relief. Thandi was dangerous in her rages, but once she started crying the danger was over, and she would listen to what Parks said.
He drove home at speed, enjoying a sense of control now that he was behind the steering wheel. When he reached the house, he stopped at the garden gate and Thandi got out, still sniffing and dabbing her eyes. He parked Thandi’s car in the garage and got into his taxi. As he pulled out into the street he watched her letting herself into the house.
What he was about to do felt impossible. Why had Busi been alone? Where was the child? What had she done with it? And even if assuming Busi told him where it was and agreed to give it up, was it worth it? He wasn’t sure if he even wanted a baby in the house. It was bad enough being responsible for a dog, let alone a baby. How would Thandi cope with the sleepless nights? She was volatile as it was. And she wasn’t young any more. She would still want her beauty sleep and he would have to do night duty. One thing was for sure: Thandi would order him around even more than she already did.
At the same time he knew that his life would be over if he did not come home with the baby.
He was about to drive off when he heard Thandi’s voice. “Wait!” she shouted. She was running down the garden path holding a yellow crocheted blanket. “Take this, to wrap our baby in. And you have to let me know everything. Phone me, OK? And don’t come back empty-handed!”
* * *
Unathi double-locked the door of his house and stood for a minute, looking up and down the street. Parks was nowhere to be seen. With his hands deep in his pockets, he began walking casually towards Busi’s house.
He clutched the key to her door in one hand, and as he walked he kept a sharp lookout for Parks’s taxi.
“Hayi Unathi,” said a familiar voice, as he turned a corner, “why are you not at school today?”
Unathi looked up. It was a neighbour, standing in her yard, hanging her wet washing on the line.
Unathi paused, thinking fast, and then he smiled broadly. “It’s exam time, Auntie,” he said confidently, “we go in later. I only write at 10 o’clock today. So I’m just getting some fresh air.” Unathi breathed deeply. “I need it after all that studying.”
After The Tears Page 7
