After The Tears

by Faure, Michelle;

  * * *

  “Ooh, there’s the new mommy!”

  “Looking so healthy and big!”

  Princess and her friends were at it again as she walked into school on Monday.

  Busi ignored them and kept her head down, though she was tempted to turn around and run straight home to the comfort of her bed and her gogo’s gentle company. It was getting harder to attend classes. She felt so tired and unmotivated. It seemed that, as her tummy got bigger, she found it more and more difficult to concentrate. As the Matric exams approached, she fell further and further behind.

  “Busi, do you know the answer? Busi?”

  Busi jolted in her seat.

  “What?” she said, responding to her name, “Sorry, Miss, what did you say?”

  “Never mind,” said Miss Nombembe. “Can anyone else answer?”

  After class Miss Nombembe called her in. “Busi, we talked about you at the staff meeting. You are not going to manage your finals this year. It’s probably best that you keep coming to school, but you will have to register again next year. Can you ask your parent or guardian to come in and we can talk about this?”

  Busi thought of her sick granny at home. “It’s fine. They know.”

  At break time she walked across the quad to meet Unathi. He often had some tasty something for her in his lunchbox. “I’m not hungry,” he would say. “It would be wasted if you don’t eat it.” And she would eat up the leftovers of delicious chicken stew, or strips of fried fish. Unathi and his father really knew how to cook. Sometimes it was the best meal she had all day, as her granny’s pension money began to run out towards the end of the month, and they lived on very little.

  But today Unathi wasn’t alone. Asisipho was chatting to him, playing him a song on her cell phone. They both looked up as Busi approached. Busi saw Asisipho frown, but Unathi had his usual wide smile for her.

  “Want some chicken pieces, Busi? My dad did them just the way you like.”

  Busi didn’t want to look needy in front of this girl. “I’m not hungry,” she said.

  “Sounds good,” said Asisipho. “Can I taste one?”

  And Busi had to watch her chomp through the chicken drumstick that her own stomach was aching for.

  “Thanks, Unathi.” Asisipho gave him a sunny smile.

  Just then her friends walked by, and she went off with them, giving a wave to Unathi as she went and ignoring Busi.

  “She’s got some good music,” said Unathi. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she was a DJ one day; she’s got an ear for it.”

  Busi felt a rush of jealousy. “I’m also quite musical.”

  Unathi looked surprised. “I didn’t know you were interested in music, Busi. You’re not even in the choir.”

  Busi felt foolish. Of course she wasn’t very musical; her friends even teased her about how she couldn’t sing in tune.

  “Well, I know what music I like,” she said.

  She looked over at Asisipho, now talking and laughing with her friends.

  Unathi followed her gaze. “She’s a nice girl,” he said. “She’s going through tough times. She was telling me how her mother’s just lost her job.”

  So what, thought Busi. That was nothing compared to her problems. How could Unathi think that Asisipho needed his support. Anyway, Unathi was her rock. He couldn’t be someone else’s rock too. She realised how strongly she felt about him, how possessive. At the same time she knew she was being unfair. Why shouldn’t he care about Asisipho?

  “She seems happy enough,” Busi said.

  The bell rang and they started walking back to class.

  “See you after school. Wait for me. Let’s walk home together,” Unathi said, and flashed her one of his great smiles.

  She still had him, that’s what that smile told her. Something in her eased.

  But as she waited for Unathi after school, her heart sank to see him coming towards her with Asisipho walking alongside.

  “Asisipho is coming to download some music on my hard drive at home,” he told her.

  He had a sheepish look on his face.

  As they walked, Asisipho and Unathi chatted about various bands. “Oh, he’s my favourite rapper,” Asisipho said. “You like him too, Unathi? Hey, we’ve got the same taste.”

  “Do you like his music?” Unathi asked, trying to include Busi.

  “Never heard of him,” said Busi. And she hardly said another word all the way to her house. She knew she was being rude, but she couldn’t help it.

  When they got to her gate Unathi frowned at her. He was angry that she was behaving badly, she knew. But she couldn’t stop herself.

  She watched them walk off together. She watched to see if they would hold hands. Unathi had said they were just friends. But Busi could see that Asisipho really liked him. She could tell. It was a matter of time. Busi knew what happened when guys got girlfriends. They weren’t your friend any more. The girls wouldn’t let them. Anyway, girlfriends took up all their time, especially in those first months … if Unathi and Asisipho got together it would probably be just when her baby was due.

  “I’ll be there for you …” Unathi had promised her. It looked like that promise was about to be broken.

  As she pushed the door open she heard her grandmother’s hacking cough. She hadn’t managed to shake it off after the winter and it was getting worse and worse. Sometimes there were flecks of blood on her handkerchief.

  “Let me prepare the supper, Gogo. You relax,” she said.

  “There’s hardly anything left,” said her granny. “We will just have to have the leftovers from last night.” She saw Busi’s worried face. “Don’t worry, child. I’m not hungry. There is enough for you. And I’m sure your mother will send something soon.”

  Busi could hear the tension in her granny’s voice. It was too much. Busi lay on her bed and sobbed. Then she wiped her eyes and sent an SMS to her mom:

  mom we need u. wen r u comin

  home?

  She lay down and waited for a reply. But deep down she knew her mom wouldn’t come anytime soon. The light was fading outside. She could hear the sounds from the streets as people came home from work, relieved that it was the beginning of the weekend.

  Then the beep of a message.

  Please let this be from you, Mom, thought Busi to herself, as she sat down on her bed to read the message. Please.

  I need to meet u 2mor. It’s

  important. Parks

  She thought of his wife in the back seat of the taxi. She remembered the feeling of the money in her hand.

  Busi frowned to herself and then texted back a reply:

  ok. no wife. Jst u.

  Busi held her breath as she waited for his reply. She felt a wave of relief when it came.

  ok. Same place. 10am

  The next morning Busi changed into the baggiest clothes that she could find, and covered herself up with her grandmother’s large coat.

  Her grandmother was still sleeping. She was sleeping later and later in the mornings – so unlike before, when she would be up before Busi. It certainly made it easier for Busi to sneak out without saying anything. But Busi was worried. It was like her granny was slowly slipping away. Somehow her grandmother had always managed to make sure that there was food in the house. Lately, though, she had not left the house at all to buy food. Busi knew she had to do something. She began to walk determinedly towards the corner where Parks always met her.

  He wasn’t late. He stopped at the curb and Busi looked into the taxi carefully before she opened the door.

  “She’d better not be hiding in the back,” she said firmly.

  Parks shook his head.

  “I’m alone,” he said. “Get in.”

  “I don’t want to go far,” said Busi. “Just park along the road somewhere, OK?”

&nb
sp; Parks shrugged and Busi got in.

  Parks did as Busi had asked and stopped under some trees, away from the houses.

  Busi sat with her arms folded across her chest, her body turned away from Parks. When she spoke she looked out towards the trees. Their branches almost reached the taxi window.

  “OK,” she said briskly, “what do you want?”

  “You probably don’t believe me,” said Parks, the gentleness of his voice taking Busi by surprise, “but I really just want to help.”

  Busi turned just a little to look at Parks. He shrugged and sighed, smiling softly at her.

  “It’s my baby that you are carrying, and I am worried about it,” he said, quickly adding, “and about you too, of course.”

  Busi sat in silence for a while, watching the bare branches waving in the wind. Her head was spinning and she hardly knew what she was thinking. “None of this has anything to do with your wife?” she said softly.

  “No,” said Parks gently, “she doesn’t even know I’m here.”

  Busi nodded.

  “Here,” said Parks.

  Busi looked away from his closed fist, reaching towards her. She knew what he was clutching in his hand, and she hesitated.

  Thoughts of her grandmother at home filled Busi’s mind. Thoughts of the empty cupboards and the cold, leaking shack. Before she could stop herself Busi opened her palm towards Parks. She looked away as she felt the roll of banknotes pressing into her hand. Tears prickled in the corners of her eyes, and she pressed her lips together and swallowed hard. “Thanks,” she said softly. “Please take me home now.”

  The wind tossed up papers and leaves against Busi’s legs as she walked the distance from the corner where Parks had dropped her off, to the closest shop. She shook her head against the wind, and lifted her chin. I’m thinking about hot samp, soft red kidney beans and a juicy piece of meat, so tender that it just falls off the bone, thought Busi to herself, already imagining herself and her grandmother tucking in.

  Chapter 8

  “That shirt looks perfect on you, chommie. And it hides your bump.”

  Asanda was right – Busi could see in the mirror. “I’ll take it.”

  The girls were out shopping. For once Busi had a bit of money, and it felt like the old days as they all commented on the latest fashions and tried on outfits. For a few hours she stopped worrying about everything as the girls did their bargain hunting.

  “Come on,” said Ntombi. “You can wear that to Thabiso’s tavern this weekend. Some of the Matric DJs are doing a little fundraiser for the Matric dance.”

  “I’m not going to the dance,” said Busi.

  “That doesn’t mean you can’t come to the party,” said Asanda. “And with that shirt you’ll look as gorgeous as you usually do!”

  After the shopping they sat in a fast-food restaurant, sipping milkshakes with their parcels beside them.

  “Unathi will be there,” said Lettie, winking at Busi. “Come on, it’ll be fun. You need to get out.”

  “Maybe,” said Busi.

  “Oh no,” said Ntombi. “You will say yes, otherwise you can’t go home. And you can’t change your mind, do you understand?” She shook her finger in Busi’s face as the others laughed.

  “OK,” Busi said. “I’ll come.”

  * * *

  Her granny was delighted to see her getting ready. “I haven’t heard you singing for such a long time, child. It’s good you’re getting out now when you can.”

  Busi didn’t want to think about what those words meant right now. “I know, Gogo. And I will make sure that someone walks me home safely – you don’t need to worry.”

  Her granny nodded and started to say more, but then had one of her coughing fits that always frightened Busi.

  “Are you all right, Gogo?” she asked. “Should I stay at home with you?”

  Eventually her granny could speak. “If you stayed home every time I coughed you would be here all the time. No, get off with you and enjoy yourself!”

  The girls picked her up, their faces shining with make-up and excitement. Busi used some of Parks’s money to pay for her entrance ticket. She stopped herself from worrying about it. Tonight she was here to have fun!

  It had been so long since she had gone out that she had forgotten how noisy these kinds of places were. The music blared, and the air was so smoky she felt as if she could hardly breathe. The others went to get cooldrinks.

  “No alcohol for you,” said Ntombi. “You’ve got to look after that baby.”

  Busi wished she hadn’t mentioned it. She didn’t even feel like drinking, and she didn’t want to be reminded why she shouldn’t.

  Olwethu came up and took Ntombi, then Themba and Lettie started dancing.

  Busi looked on. Where was Unathi? Then she saw his familiar, lanky figure on the dance floor. She smiled. His long arms and legs flew out when he danced. He looked a little like a wind-up toy. She was standing up to go to him when she saw Asisipho opposite him, dancing closer and closer, so that eventually they were just about touching. Busi sat down again. She noticed Asisipho’s tight shirt, hugging her curvy body as she swayed her hips. She noticed how Asisipho didn’t take her eyes of Unathi’s face.

  The music slowed down, and Asisipho put her arms around Unathi’s neck. They rocked slowly together for a while. The beat got wilder, and they fell apart again.

  Busi felt a burning inside her. She knew Asisipho liked Unathi. But was Unathi interested in Asisipho?

  Someone came to sit next to her. It was Princess, wearing a tight, short skirt and a little vest with silver sequins. Her face was thick with make-up.

  “Glad to see you found something to wear,” said Princess. “You must have had to look in the maternity section.”

  Busi sighed in desperation. What was it about Princess that made her so want to hurt anyone she could?

  Princess had seen her looking towards the dance floor. “Isn’t it sweet to see new love blossoming?” she said.

  Ntombi and Olwethu joined them, sitting down together, laughing. “What are you saying, Princess?” asked Ntombi.

  “Nothing,” said Princess. “Just that it’s nice to see that Unathi is getting himself a girl, finally.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Ntombi, looking at Busi.

  “Asisipho. They look so sweet together, don’t they?”

  They all looked at Unathi and Asisipho still dancing together. As they watched Asisipho put her hand on Unathi’s shoulder. He bent down to her and she said something into his ear. He smiled and nodded.

  Busi suddenly felt sick, and tired. How had she thought that Unathi would stay interested in a girl who had someone else’s baby inside her?

  Then she saw Unathi coming over, Asisipho following him. Did they have to come and rub it in? “I need to get some air,” she said, standing up.

  “Busi,” started Unathi. But she brushed past him.

  “Hey,” he called after her, “aren’t you staying for my DJ set?”

  She turned back to see if he looked like he wanted her to be there. But Asisipho was touching his arm again, and he was looking down at her. Busi walked away, not noticing that he had looked up again, started to follow her, and then given up. But she turned back just in time to see Asisipho pull Unathi’s face towards her to give him a kiss.

  Outside in the cold air Busi felt the tears on her cheeks. What had she been thinking, coming here with all these people? This was not her life any more. And Unathi was lost to her. Unathi, who had always been there for her, was being snapped up by Asisipho. Busi had missed her chance, had lost her best friend.

  She walked home quickly, ignoring the whistles from a group of drunk men at the corner. One lurched towards her and she started running, feeling frightened for the first time. She was glad she was not in high heels.

  When she
got home she felt sick with exhaustion. She was glad her granny was fast asleep so she didn’t have to pretend that she had had a good time.

  As she was undressing her phone rang. It was Lettie.

  “How could you leave like that?” she shouted. “We have all been so worried, and looking for you. You didn’t tell us you were going or anything. Only now Unathi told us he saw you leaving.”

  “I’m sorry,” Busi whispered.

  Lettie disconnected the call without saying goodbye.

  Busi lay in bed and wept into her pillow. It had been a mistake to go to the tavern, to think that everything could be like it was before. She would not make that mistake again.

  On Monday morning the chatter at school was all about the party. The girls had forgiven her for rushing away, but they stopped trying to include her in everything. She had said no too often, perhaps. None of them said anything about Unathi and Asisipho. And she was too proud to ask.

  Chapter 9

  Busi was deeply into her eighth month of her pregnancy. She often woke up exhausted after restless nights, but at least she didn’t have to go to school. While her classmates were writing their exams, she was spending her days at home – long days when both she and her granny slept most of the time.

  Usually she woke at night because the baby pressed on her bladder and made her want to go to the toilet. But one night something else woke her. Busi lay quite still in bed and blinked at the darkness. The south-easter was howling around the shack, rattling the sheets of corrugated iron that made up the walls. Busi sighed. It had just been the wind shaking the house and whipping the sand up against the window panes. She lay for a moment and then turned over, shifting her weight to make herself comfortable.

  There it came again. A sound. What was that? And it was coming from inside the shack, not outside.

  Busi sat up.

  “Gogo?” Busi called softly into the darkness.

  The sound was coming from her grandmother’s bed. Busi sprang up, and frantically pushed the curtain aside. She rushed towards her grandmother’s bed, switching on the light as she did so.

  Busi’s grandmother lay limply, the top half of her body falling off her bed. Her head was hanging down, and her breath was gurgling in her throat.