Thuli comes over the next afternoon when she has recovered from her hangover and Thato and the vibrating bed. She wants to know everything, and to tell me everything.
“Chelsea freaked out and couldn’t breathe and I had to phone her dad, who came over. ‘I just couldn’t do it,’ she kept telling me. ‘I know he’s a sweet guy but …’
I looked for Ayanda … you know, to tell him I was sorry, you know, hooking him up with Chelsea and what happened, but he had gone … and then I looked for you and you had gone.” She pauses, her mouth an ‘o’. “O M G,” she says, looking at me.
Revelation!
“You went off together! And? This isn’t just payback for the Barbie thing?”
“He gave me a lift home.”
“Oh, this is the best thing eva chommie. So, are you going to see him again?”
“I don’t know. He took my number. I gave Chelsea my number too. She said her dad …”
I start to cry again. I’ve been crying a lot lately.
“Hey, I know what will cheer you up,” Thuli says. “Where’s that Barbie?”
I can’t believe I still have zombie Barbie. Thuli goes out into the yard with Barbie.
“What are you doing?” I follow her.
She takes the fork that Ma plants her tomatoes with and starts digging.
“What’s that?”
“A shallow grave for a shallow gal.”
And I know it’s mad, but we bury Barbie there in the yard and by the end we are in hysterics and I am feeling a lot better. Lunga even carves ‘RIP Barbie’ on a piece of old wood and we put it on her grave. Chapter ova!
Thuli leaves me in laughter.
But by Monday morning I am blue again. Ayanda hasn’t called. I walk to the library and send off another email to a job I probably won’t get.
I go back home, smoke in the yard and clean my teeth.
Things to be grateful for:
Chelsea threw up at the party and couldn’t sleep with Ayanda which meant Ayanda took me home and has my number.
Positives: He has my number and says he is the ‘someone who knows someone’.
Negatives: He hasn’t called, and he works for Chelsea’s dad, kind of.
I have just sat down to watch TV when I get a text from Chelsea.
Hi, sorry I am SO embarrassed about the other night.
Anyway, my dad said give him a call.
GD luck
Cross fingers emoji.
So, the next morning I take a deep breath, and against all my instincts, I phone Mr Clarke.
“Hello. Can I help you?” the receptionist answers coolly.
“Can I speak to Mr Clarke?”
“Who can I say is calling?”
“It’s Lelethu Ntuli.”
“How do you spell that?” She soon gives up on that and just says: “He’s in a meeting right now. I’ll get him to call you back.”
I wait an hour … two hours … and then there’s a call.
“I have Mr Clarke on the line for you…”
“Hello. Victoria at reception said you called. Can I help you?”
He didn’t recognise the name, but he wouldn’t. I don’t think he knows my mom’s surname, or that she even has a daughter.
“I’m Lelethu Ntuli. Chelsea said I should phone you …”
He laughs. “Oh Chelsea, she’s always giving out my number. She’s a bleeding heart that one. Thinks I can help the world. Let me just say up front I can’t promise you anything. Are you in her class? We are full up for vac jobs … I thought she would have told you.”
“I’m not at varsity but I matriculated last year and I am looking for work. I couldn’t pay registration, but I am still keen to study and …” the words stumble out and I want to stuff them back into my mouth.
“I’m afraid, sweety, I’d love to help …”
“I’m Grace’s daughter,” I blurt out.
There is a silence.
“Grace, you know, she works for you …”
“Oh Grace! Of course, of course … I’m sorry. Grace is wonderful, practically a mother to Chelsea.” There’s a pause. “Well, I tell you what, I might have a cleaning job here at the office. Cleaning and tea making when our girl here goes on maternity. It would only be temporary though. You give my love to Grace. Fancy that,” he laughs.
I put down the phone and cry.
***
Tell us: Why do you think all these interactions make Lelethu cry?