One week passed, and then another and another.
Bhuti sighed again.
“Hey, Bhu, what’s with the long face?” Laula flopped down on the grass next to him. “Sorry I’m late. I thought rehearsals would never end.”
Bhuti leaned down to give her a kiss. No matter how tough a day he was having, seeing Laula always made him smile.
“It’s Lizo,” he said. “You know that funding he applied for?”
Bhuti’s sad face told the rest of the story.
“Don’t tell me. He didn’t get it?”
“No.”
“But why? Everyone thought—”
“I know. His lecturers are shocked. Mr Dlodlo can’t understand it. None of us can.”
“Oh, man. That’s just so sad. Did they give a reason?”
“Apparently their budget allocation for the year has been used up. Sorry, but …”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. No congratulations on being invited to participate in the exhibition. Nothing.”
“That’s terrible. Poor Lizo. How’s he taking it?”
“Oh, you know my big brother. He’s upset, naturally, but he’s not going to let it get him down. First thing he did was to call the members of TALC together and encourage them to work even harder. So there’s a big work party planned for this weekend to do up the studio. They’ll go ahead with the weekend art lessons for kids, anyway. By the time Lizo had finished talking to them, they were so excited about the new project they’d almost forgotten the disappointment of losing out on the funding. Even Thandi was smiling.”
“Thandi?” Laula’s face was filled with mock amazement. “Thandi never smiles. It’s against his principles.”
But Bhuti was still worried. “I felt so bad for Lizo, Lals. He gives so much and he works so hard. He managed to hide it from the others pretty well, but I could see how badly this whole thing affected him. He really set his hopes on it; he had such dreams for TALC.”
“It would’ve been so great, Bhuti,” Lizo had said the night before, after the others had gone. “I wish I knew why …”
“Me too,” Bhuti said miserably. “Maybe you should go and ask?”
“I don’t think that will do any good. It’s not as if they don’t appreciate our work. Remember how full of praise Mr Nyathi was? He said we’d be great South African ambassadors, that he’d do everything in his power to help us on our way. Remember we all thought he was such a snob, Mama. Looking down on us little people when he starting moving up? Well, he wasn’t like that at all.”
“Hmmm,” Mama said. “He saw how talented you were, Lizo. A chance for him to shine because of you.”
“Mama!” Bhuti and Lizo looked at their mother in amazement. Mama never said a cruel or critical word about anyone.
“I’m sorry, my child.” Mama’s eyes filled with tears. “But I hate to see you so disappointed, after all your hard work. Not to mention your talent.”
“Oh ho, talent!” said Bhuti, desperate to make his mother smile. “I have a Dlodloism for that. He stood up and thrust out his chest.
“Genius is one per cent inspiration, ninety nine per cent perspiration.” He wagged a finger at Lizo. “Thomas Edison, my boy. One of the great American inventors of all time.”
“Yes, sir,” Lizo said, playing along. “You mean the inventor of the early record player and the motion-picture camera?”
“That’s right, clever boy.” Bhuti raised his arms high. “Not to forget the wondrous electric light bulb.”
Lizo looked around the small room, the stubs of candles on the table where everyone ate and did homework. “Ah yes, the lightbulb … We could do with a few of those around here.”
He went to where his mother was standing at the sink and hugged her hard. “Anyway, Mama, it’s easy to be discouraged when things don’t work out, but we’re not going to let that happen. We’ll start the art classes, and work from there.”
Mama said nothing more. She just made Lizo a cup of tea, rooibos with a spoonful of honey, and stood behind him rubbing the nape of his neck while he drank it.
***
Tell us: How would you describe Lizo’s character?