Two years have gone by since Teboho last saw Kedibone. The bell for the end of school has just rung and Mr Maja calls Teboho. He gives him his car keys to wash his car, as usual.

“Sho Teboho! At least if you can be finished in an hour because I’m going to a staff meeting. The buckets and soap, everything you’ll need, is in the boot.”

Teboho goes out of the class with his classmate Zama, continuing the conversation they had in their free period about dating. Two girls pass them and greet Teboho.

“Hello ladies!” he replies.

“How are you Teboho?” they return.

“I’m good thanks and yourself?” he smiles.

“We good,” the girls giggle.

Zama looks at Teboho and says, “Teboho you can’t wait for a girl for two years! There are girls who love you here at school. You’re a good dancer now – even a member of our Sitalented Pantsula dance group.”

Teboho nods his head as Zama, who is also in the dance group, tries to convince him.

“Who did you say the girl is again?”

“It’s Kedibone,” Teboho says quietly.

Zama laughs at him. “I have never heard of a Kedibone my friend, and you say she lives at Lemon Twist? Maybe you saw her in your dreams!”

“She will come to watch us one day and since tomorrow we start our June holidays she might come.”

“Eish! Two years is a long time Tebza. What if she has found someone else?”

“Then I will find someone else too. But for now she is the one who has won my heart.”

“OK sharp Teboho. I’ll see you later at the rehearsals.”

Teboho opens the boot of Mr Maja’s X5 BMW and takes out a bucket and everything he will need to wash the car. Things are still tough at home. There is no money and his mom is getting a reputation as one of the known alcoholics in Protea South.

Teboho does small odd jobs so that he can at least sleep with something in his stomach. As he is cleaning the inside of the car he finds a photo, an old photo taken in the seventies or eighties. It’s of a man who looks like Mr Maja. The clothes that this man is wearing are now called ‘vintage’ clothes, he realises. Teboho looks closely at the photo again after washing the car.

Mr Maja approaches with an armful of files; he’s just left the meeting. “Teboho can you open the boot for me?” He examines the car and, impressed, he says, “Majaivane you have washed my car better than the car wash I usually go to. You have done your job malaities. Twara five rands and buy yourself some food and airtime nyana, to call mabebeza, your babe.”

Teboho takes the money shyly. “Thanks very much sir.”

“Hey malaities you were so good the last time I saw you rehearsing with the Sitalented Pantsula crew. You boys remind me of back in the eighties when I used to watch a dance show called Laphologa. There were good pantsulas in that show. They used to dance just like you.”

Teboho is still holding the photo. “You know after winning in the Jika Majika show everyone tells me about that old show”. He hands Mr Maja the photo. “Hey Sir, this old man looks like you.”

“Many people say that every time I go home to Rustenburg where my father and mother were born before coming to live in Johannesburg. I didn’t know my grandfather. But when I was born everyone who knew him says I look like him, especially my grandmother. She always tells me interesting stories about him. One day she told me that he was a wise and brave man – he got his brother admitted into varsity. She says my grandfather stood against the white man and pleaded his case. And this was during apartheid, when it was at its peak.”

“Tjo, Sir, that was brave of him.”

“It was malaities! Tja hey malaities, thanks again for washing my car. I’ll see you when schools reopen.”

Teboho goes back home thinking about what Mr Maja shared with him. He thinks of his father whom he doesn’t even know and imagines his family. Was my grandfather brave like Mr Maja’s grandfather? But why has my mother never mentioned any member of the family to me – hers or his?

Teboho passes Lemon Twist tavern and sees Masabata, Kedibone’s aunt, singing and cleaning the place. He remembers that there is a flower to live for called Kedibone, even though it has been two years since he last saw her.

“Good afternoon Masabata,” Teboho greets.

“Hey afternoon Teboho my child, my Jika Majika best dancer. How are you?”

“I am good Mama.”

“Hey you know my daughter – my sister’s daughter actually – has been asking me about you after seeing you winning that Jika Majika episode. Kedibone. Do you know her?”

“I saw her twice, two years back but…”

“I sent her to boarding school. She came to visit last holidays and you were camping with your group. She says she can also dance and wants you to teach her.”

Teboho is very excited to hear the news.

“She might arrive today since it’s the start of the holidays. I’ll tell her to come to your place.”

“Thanks very much Mama. I would love to see her.”

“And Teboho my boy I just want to tell you that your talent is a gift from God. You will go far, but just to warn you please do not fall in the trap of smoking nyaope. You see that most of the boys who were talented just like you around Protea South are suffering from the addiction and to tell you the truth being a pantsula is not all about drugs. Do you hear me?”

“Yes Mama.”

“So please my boy, go well then.”

Teboho arrives home and finds Pontso there; she has just finished cooking and dishes up for him. He sits down and begins wondering again why his mother has not told him about their family.

“What’s bothering you my child? You don’t seem happy.”

He tries to run away from wanting to ask his mother, but can’t.

“Mama, for years I have dreamed the same dream. In the dream I see mountains and a man. The man wants to speak but can’t. I’ve been quiet about it, thinking that it’s just a dream but how can I dream the same thing many times? And Mama you are the only biological family I know! For sixteen years of my life I’ve known Protea South as my home. Is there a place where I can go and call someone Grandpa, Grandma, Aunt, Uncle – like Mr Maja who was telling me about his grandfather?”

“Teboho not now. This is not the right time. Maybe I’ll tell you … when I feel ready.”

“But this is the right time. For me. Why don’t you tell me now?”

“I can run away from my past but I can never get away from it in my head and my heart, so it’s better I don’t tell you … because as much as it has destroyed me I don’t want you to be affected. Its better you don’t know.”

Teboho raises his voice: “So where does this leave me, Mama?!”

“Teboho I am your mother so please, when talking to me don’t you dare raise your voice, ever again! If you are not satisfied with living here than go and live with that family that you don’t even know. It’s … it’s better to drink alcohol because I forget about everything!” She starts crying now. “I’m going to Lemon Twist.” She leaves, banging the door behind her.

Teboho ponders on his mother’s words. So where does that leave me, he wonders again. Tired and depressed, he falls asleep. He dreams about a man, who he knows is his father. He sees himself as a small boy walking towards a big man who holds out his hands to catch him. Just as he’s about to fall the man picks him up, kisses and hugs him.

He wakes with tears on his cheeks. Is this my father? What did he do to make my mother leave? What did I do to make him go?

As he is asking himself about these questions, he hears a knock on the door.

“Ke mang?”

“Sho Tebza, its Zama. Are you ready to go?”

Teboho checks the time. “Oh no! I haven’t done anything yet. Just a minute.” Hurriedly, he grabs a wash cloth and wipes his armpits, his face and takes out his dancing clothes. He locks and leaves the key under the doormat.

His mother didn’t return last night.

***

Tell us what you think: Why does his mother refuse to tell him the truth? Can a real person you have never met appear in your dream?