They are Coming

Chapter 31

120 Chapter 31 ‘I can’t find Ambition,’ MaNdlovu says to Ngwenya as he dismounts from his bicycle at the gate. ‘I’m always telling him he must be home before it gets dark. And these days…’ her voice trails away. ‘Don’t worry, he’s with Freeman and Ntando at the shops. They should be here any time now.’ ‘Tshabalala has also been looking for Freeman. Right now he’s sleeping on their doorstep.’ ‘Did he tell you he was looking for Freeman?’ Ngwenya asks, pushing the bicycle around the house behind MaNdlovu. He remembers how Tshabalala had deliberately ignored him. ‘I heard him asking Nobuhle at the gate.’ MaNdlovu laughs softly. ‘He was so drunk he could hardly stand upright.’ She opens the back door while Ngwenya balances his bicycle against the wall by the door. Humming under his breath, he unties his two bags, carries them into the house and places them in a corner of the kitchen, which smells strongly of cabbage. ‘You know I don’t like cabbage,’ Ngwenya says as he props his bicycle against the wall under their wedding photograph. ‘Are the caterpillar worms finished?’ ‘You know the child doesn’t like those worms. I can never seem to please you both.’ MaNdlovu is carefully counting money out of an old stained bag. ‘He ate very little in the afternoon, so I cooked the cabbage which I know he likes.’ ‘So tonight it’s my turn to eat very little?’ Ngwenya disappears behind the curtain into the bedroom. ‘You’ll spoil that child by making him so choosy about what he eats. When I was growing up, we had no choice about food; we ate anything our parents put before us.’ ‘That was then, and this is now. We can’t have the child starve because 121 we cook food that he doesn’t like, but which his father does.’ ‘But still you spoil the children. What do they say, “Spare the rod and spoil the child”?’ ‘Well, you certainly don’t spare the rod! Senzeni would be with us now if you hadn’t beaten her, and beaten her without even asking for her side of the story! Do you call that justice? And do you think giving children the right food to eat is spoiling them?’ ‘Hawu, MaNdlovu, what’s the matter with you today?’ His wife does not reply, but resumes counting her money. How can so many greasy notes add up to so little? Ngwenya reappears, having changed into a pair of old jeans. Holding a towel and a piece of green soap, he pauses in the middle of the steamy room. ‘Why didn’t you buy more caterpillars if you knew they were finished ?’ MaNdlovu points a finger at a metal dish by the wall that is full of tshomoliya . ‘I didn’t sell much today,’ she says, her voice weary. ‘You know there’s now a communal garden and people are buying their vegetables from there because they’re cheap. The little I sold will pay this month’s subscription to the the burial society.’ She points at one small pile of notes. ‘And this is for the Christmas grocery subscription,’ she says, pointing at the other. ‘Sometimes I think we must do away with these subscriptions. We can live without them.’ ‘And if we leave the burial society and there’s a death in the family, where are we going to get money to assist with the funeral? You know we’ve no savings at all.’ ‘Who says there’s anybody who’s going to die in the family?’ ‘Just look at what your daughter is doing now! I smell something frightening from that direction.’ ‘Do not say your daughter as if she is also not your daughter. And please let’s leave that topic alone for now. I’m tired and I want to rest. Have you warmed my bathing water?’ ‘I’m still cooking, and this is a one-plate stove.’ ‘But what were you doing the whole day, MaNdlovu?’ ‘You’re not the only one who works hard. If I’m not doing enough, why don’t you take a second wife? There are plenty of women at the bottle store.’ ‘That’s a good idea,’ Ngwenya mutters, and goes out of the door. 122 *** Nobuhle grabs Ambition from among the melée of people on the pavement, with the intention...