Forget about love being patient and kind! Right now, holding Nomvula’s letter, it is that old song that is true: Love hurts!
Or like those lines from another song, The Rose:
Some say love, it is a river that drowns the tender reed.
Some say love, it is a razor that leaves the soul to bleed.
I feel terrible. Ashamed. I want to rip my hair out. Guilt and remorse overwhelm me. I can barely breathe!
This is what I wanted, right? To not have my sister around cramping my style, messing up my relationships. Well, now I realise: I don’t want this at all. Not for anything!
I try to call her, but her number goes to voice-mail. Where can she be? I call up the few friends of hers that I know. But none of them have seen her.
And that’s when the panic takes over. The thought of my sister out there in the world alone, fills me with terror. Especially now night has fallen.
Nomvula isn’t sensible like me. What will she do for money? She doesn’t even have a job at the moment. What if she falls in with the wrong people? With men who are on the look-out for young, vulnerable girls? Young, vulnerable girls with beautiful faces?
No! I can’t bear to think about such terrible things. I have to find her. Right now!
My phone rings and I grab for it.
But it isn’t Nomvula.
“Tiny, hi. I just want to hear your voice. I just want to make sure that today wasn’t a dream.”
It is Tom. But I have no time for Tom right now.
“Sorry. I can’t talk,” I say. And disconnect.
I grab my keys and head out into the night in my battered old Golf. Thank goodness I filled up with petrol this morning. But where to look? Where could she possibly be?
I drive the streets, looking for a beautiful girl pulling a purple suitcase behind her. A few times I think I spot her under a street light. But my eyes are playing tricks on me. From the panic and desperation, I suppose.
I keep dialling her number even though I am driving. I keep getting voice-mail.
The bus station! Why didn’t I think of that before? It is the last place left.
And there she is, thank the moon and all the stars!
She’s sitting on a bench with her suitcase beside her. Looking so young and alone and helpless – a perfect target for exploitation. And yes, a group of men have gathered just across from her, and are all looking her way.
The bus station is not the safest place to be, especially after the last bus has left. And after the vendors have packed up their goods for the night.
“Nomvula!”
I stop the car right beside her, get out and hug her, all the while keeping an eye on the group of men. But they have already turned and started walking away.
“Nomvula, you come home this very minute! And don’t you ever do this again. Not ever!”
With tears filling up her eyes, she says, “I wanted to catch a bus to somewhere far away. Like Durban maybe. But I didn’t have enough money.”
Together we drive back home with her suitcase. I am so relieved, I can’t seem to stop talking.
“Of course you aren’t a burden. You’re my sister and I love you. I am happy to take care of you. You are more important to me than Gordon. You’re more important than any guy.”
And that’s the truth – well, almost. What I meant was: any guy except Tom. But everything will be OK. With her, with Tom and me. I’ll just keep the two of them well apart. No problem.
Will Tom phone again tonight? I hope so.
***
Tell us: Was Tiny right to worry about her younger sister out there in the world, alone?