He arrives in Carolina in the midst of summer. It is a Sunday afternoon, and the sun crawls across the sky with ruthless and unrelenting heat. The tired creak of the church door, accompanied by the echo of heavy footsteps, announces his arrival. It startles Lelethu who is sweeping dirt into a dustpan. She shoots up from behind the podium to watch the tall stranger approach. She first notices his dusty boots and the dirt they drag in. Her shoulders sag and she huffs. This draws the stranger’s attention and his wandering eyes finally settle on her.

“I didn’t think anybody would be here,” he apologises. His voice is rich, easily absorbed by the magnitude of the space.

Lelethu takes in his navy overalls, the tote bag slung over his shoulder and the familiarity of his facial features. She straightens her peach dress, feeling overdressed.

“The service is over and people have gone home,” she says looking at his boots. “I’d like to finish cleaning so I can leave.”

He follows her gaze, turning back to look at the trail of dusty footprints behind him.

“I’m sorry,” he folds himself onto one of the benches, “pretend I’m not here.”

“I can’t do that now,” she says, irritation clinging to her voice. “Who are you anyway?”

“Ntando,” he says flatly.

“I’m Lelethu,” she offers. “I’ve never seen you in town before.”

“I haven’t set foot in this place in over eighteen years. I left around the time Solomon’s Store burnt down.”

“Oh, that happened before I was born.” Lelethu sets the dustpan aside. “My father went on to build another store across town. He never speaks of the first one, though.”

“Solomon Maseko is your father?” his forehead creases.

“The one and only.” She tilts her head back. “I’m surprised you’d remember him.”

His face darkens. “I wouldn’t dare forget.”

“So what brings you back?” she asks, wondering what he means.

He opens his mouth and then closes it, suddenly unsure of himself. The door hinges groan and they turn towards the sound.

Gogo Dinga limps into the hall, her cane tapping on the tiles with every second step. She is dressed in a pleated red skirt and a yellow blouse with a floral scarf wrapped around her neck. Her glasses rest on the tip of her nose. “I forgot my hat,” she says as she inspects the floor, tsk-tsking in disapproval.

“It’s in the lost-and-found box,” Lelethu gestures to the far corner of the hall.

But Gogo Dinga isn’t listening. She stands transfixed by the sight of the young man.

“My dear boy, is that you?” she squints at him.

Ntando quickly finds his feet and extends a hand to the old lady. “Yes Gogo,” he whispers.

Gogo Dinga rushes forward and pulls him into a tight embrace.

Lelethu watches in silent surprise, reluctant to interfere in their moment.

“I can’t believe it’s really you,” Gogo Dinga steps back to examine Ntando. “What brings you here?”

“I was honestly just passing by,” his eyes dart over to Lelethu, “but I may be tempted to stay.”

“I see,” Gogo Dinga casts a glance at Lelethu, then looks back at Ntando. “You can stay with me. I’ll cook up a storm, get you fresh clothes and we can catch up.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Nonsense,” Gogo Dinga begins ushering him to the door. “What would your mother say if I left you to roam the streets of this cursed land alone?”

He squares his shoulders at the mention of his mother but allows the old lady to lead him out. At the door, Ntando pauses to look back at Lelethu. His eyes are piercing and undeterred. It sends a chill down her spine and she decides against reminding Gogo Dinga about the forgotten hat. To escape his focus, she returns to the task of cleaning until she hears the door creak shut.

Tell us: Who do you think might Ntando be and why is he in town?