Martha came rushing to the hospitals. She was wearing her grey tracksuit, and she did not have time to put on makeup. She had had a terrific night, but she had a bad dream. In the dream, Lovemore had died and his mother was wailing. While she was sleeping peacefully, she was awaken by noise and a neighbour announcing that Lovemore had died. She had been worried ever since, and so she had a quick bath and not even applied her make-up, which was unusual of her.

At the hospital, Martha was hoping to know if Lovemore was getting better, but she found the bed empty. She then panicked, and her heart was beating so fast that she felt weak in her knees. It was as if she was forcing herself to breath by touching her heavy chest. She then rushed to the reception panting.

“Why is his bed empty? Where did you take him?” she asked loudly.

A nurse came and rubbed her back, and the receptionist kept on fidgeting with the telephone. “Which room is it?” she asked, concerned, but Martha fell on her knees crying, then the nurse tried to help her sit up.

“Don’t tell me he is dead. My brother …” Martha said, burying her face in her hands.

“Matron? Do you know which ward he was?” the caring nurse asked another nurse in a navy blue blouse. Martha was silent, hoping she would get a better answer.

“Yes, he is now in the mortuary,” the Matron responded and walked away, avoiding the tears.

Hearing the news made Martha drop herself on the floor and yell. Her heart cracked, and the people walking past her sympathised with her. There was a rubble of questions asking why she was crying, but some knew it was the death of a loved one.

*******

Shamiso had put on her long dress and a cloth. She was shaking because it had been long since she had last came to visit her family. After getting off her Renault Duster, she stood watching the place she had been avoiding for so many years. She knew she could not escape from it, and that she could only move on. Her father’s home remind her of bad memories she had been trying to flee.

There were people she did not know there, but they gave her weird stares, and a man nudged his elbow on a woman whose face she did not see. The place made her feel tense, and the memories of her rape came flashing back to her mind. She only remembered Nomatter, but she knew Martha looked like Nomatter, except for their complexion and figure. Nomatter was not slim or fat, but Martha was slim.

From her memories, Shamiso remembered that Melody looked like her daughter, and that her step-brothers looked like Gerald. There was a wailing inside the rondavel, so she put her travel bag on her shoulder. The bag suddenly became heavy when the stares came as she walked with her trembling legs.

“That is Shamiso,” a voice said.

Shamiso nearly panicked and had cold feet. She wanted to run away from the place. She recognised the voice, but she thought it was Nomatter, except the person looked like her. Her eyes were puffed and she was dressed in tight jeans. The way she walked, she realised it was not Nomatter.

“He is no more,” the woman cried and hung her hand on her shoulder.

The cry made Shamiso weak. She realised that it was Martha. She felt the bag get heavy, and she dropped it on the ground and cried louder. Melody and Nomatter got out of a car that had cabbage, mealie-mealie, cooking oil, potatoes, ten live chicken in a wire cage, and butternuts. The wailing grew louder, and those who were sensitive joined them from their seats. Some covered their eyes with a hand or shawls.

**********

Gerald, Melody, Shamiso, Bright and his wife, Martha, and Nomatter sat in the rondavel. It was a long day after burying Lovemore, and people had vanished after eating the meal after the burial. Martha and her sisters were washing the dishes, plates, and blankets, while Gerald packed Lovemore’s things in his room.

The air outside was chilly, and they could hear the trees whooshing. The wind was strong, and it was swaying the trees back and forth, and side by side. Everyone was tired and relaxed in the kitchen, but Shamiso kept checking her phone as if she was waiting for a call, and she fished for it from her pocket every minute.

“Baba, Lovemore apologised to you, and me. He was very sorry,” Melody said with a voice full of grief.

Gerald was staring at the fireplace, pretending not to hear her. Shamiso’s phone rang, and she quickly rushed out to answer it.

“Finally, my daughter came to her senses. Family is important, and we all make mistakes,” Gerald said, grinning and rubbing his hands towards the fire. They did not notice Shamiso leaning on the threshold of the door.

“I’m leaving,” Shamiso said softly, and then grabbed her bag from the floor on the opposite side they were sitting.

“I will go with you,” Nomatter said, dropping her shawl and moving to the door.

“Before you go, please sit down for a while,” Melody asked nicely.

Shamiso softly put the bag on the floor and sat next to Martha. Melody looked at Nomatter motioning with her eyes for her to join her sister on the floor, and she dragged herself back like a stubborn child. Melody turned to Shamiso, took hold of her hand, and rubbed it softly. She was tense and felt uneasy.

“Lovemore asked me to tell you that he was sorry for what he did to you,” Melody said gently, and Shamiso pulled her hand away and stormed out in a rush.

There was a moment of silent as they heard her Duster’s engine start.

“I hope I did the right thing,” Meldy said sadly. Gerald and Martha rubbed her hands while she sobbed quietly.

“I have to go, bye family,” Nomatter said, rushing out. In a minute, they heard the Duster skidding off in the dust road.

***

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