(It is morning. Muzi and Sihle wake up in their tent)

Sihle: Good morning, sleepy head!

Muzi: Morning.

Sihle: Slept well?

Muzi: Yes, thank you. You?

Sihle: Same.

Muzi: I am not ready to go home.

Sihle: We have to. I am not leaving you behind. What will I say to your parents?

Muzi: You’ll tell them you left me behind.

Sihle: I can’t face their wrath.

Muzi: They are not savages. You make my parents seem to be the most terrible and strict ones on earth.

Sihle: Isn’t that true?

Muzi: No! They are caring, loving and supportive, like normal folks.

Sihle: How about the reason we’re here?

Muzi: They just want the best for me, that’s all. Every parent expects a kid from their baby boys. It’s their nature.

Sihle: Yeah. I can’t imagine not giving my folks one.

Muzi: Then break up with the girl?

Sihle: It will depend.

Muzi: On what?

Sihle: The girl’s behaviour after delivering the baby.

Muzi: Okay.

(Silence)

Sihle: What can I make you for breakfast? I’m in a good mood!

Muzi: Don’t worry yourself, I’ll eat when we arrive at home.

Sihle: You need to eat something before we hit the road, or else you’ll throw up in my car. Right now, you’re my responsibility.

Muzi: You call that bakkie a car?

Sihle: Ungrateful brat!

Muzi: For the record, it deserves being thrown up in. It’s old! The owner will see it’s time to change the wheels.

Sihle: You always use the third person, coward!

Muzi: One thing I never taught you, booger-licker!

Sihle: I always wonder why you didn’t take History at school.

Muzi: Because it wasn’t going to make me a doctor.

(Silence)

Sihle: So, if we don’t talk about it, it didn’t happen?

Muzi: What?

Sihle: No games in the morning, please.

Muzi: I’m not playing any games with you.

Sihle: I asked you something last night. You didn’t respond. Later, I felt someone’s lips pecking my cheek. Tell me that wasn’t you.

Muzi: Okay, okay! I did kiss your cheek. We’re friends! We can’t date.

Sihle: You already told your parents about us. I have feelings for you.

Muzi: (shrugging) I might have too.

Sihle: So?

Muzi: Let me think this through. It’s weird, awkward and unusual.

Sihle: What’s there to think through?

Muzi: That’s the most honest response I can give you.

Sihle: Whatever! Come outside and wash yourself, then we’ll whip up something to eat.

(They bath. They eat, pack everything up and are done)

Sihle: Okay, you can take your car and I’ll ride in my old bakkie.

Muzi: I would, if you had told me earlier.

Sihle: Hop in!

Muzi: Why, thank you.

Sihle: Buckle up and enjoy the ride in my baby.

Muzi: I’m restless. I think I’m going to take a nap. Don’t ransack my dreams.

Sihle: Talk about the impossible!

Muzi: It’s possible. There is an always an open window to my mind. You’ve never noticed.

(Muzi lowers the seat and dozes off. After the long drive, Sihle pulls up at Muzi’s house)

Sihle: Muzi! Muzi! We’re here, wake up! (shaking him)

Muzi: (mumbling) That was quick! Were you…? (rubbing eyes)

Sihle: No, I kept to the speed limit. Come on, let me get you inside.

Muzi: Mom, dad, we’re back!

Zodwa: Oh, my boy! Did any insect bite you? Any symptoms of any disease? Throwing up? Runny stomach? Rash?

Sihle: (smiling and whispering to Muzi) I told you she loves you.

Muzi: (nudging Sihle, smiling and facing his mother) No mother. Sihle did a good job there!

Zodwa: Thank you, Sihle.

Muzi: Where is father?

Zodwa: He is…(whispering) Speak of the devil.

Tumelo: It’s obvious that you were talking about me. I show up and you are all silent.

Zodwa: Not a chance! They were telling me about their adventure. You have to hear about it.

Tumelo: No, thanks. Muzi, do you think I am a horrible father?

Muzi: (twitching eyebrows) I wasn’t expecting that. No!

Tumelo: If I did something horrible to you, would you forgive me?

Muzi: (looking around) Where is this going, father?

Tumelo: Would you?

Muzi: Yes. You’re my father, I could never hate you.

(There is another car pulling up outside)

Muzi: I’ll go and check who that is. (He leaves and opens the door)

(A gun is fired. Muzi falls on the floor)

Zodwa: (crying) Muzi! Muzi! Awu, kodwa ngomtanami! Call an ambulance, he is bleeding too much!

(Muzi dies)

***

Tell us: Do you think this was a hit from the Indian family? How sad that all was about to be revealed and all their lives have been ruined?