THE INCARCERATED STRANGER

 

Chapter 24

 

RILEY

 

She opens her eyes to find that it’s already dark outside. She must have fallen asleep after returning from the walk with her father. It was just what she needed—strolling around her neighborhood and seeing all the places where she used to play with her siblings and friends. The walk helped her bond with her dad, and they ended up buying some street food to enjoy together. When they got back, she felt exhausted and didn’t want anything else, so she headed to her room and fell asleep.

 She gets up from the bed and gathers her things to take a shower in the bathroom. Once she’s done, she heads back to her room, puts on her pajamas, and reaches for her phone. There are twenty missed calls from Mangaliso and fifteen messages on WhatsApp. She feels a pang of guilt for not checking her phone after returning from the walk with her father.

She quickly responds to the messages and tries to return the calls. The phone rings but goes unanswered. She tries again, but it rings unanswered once more. Her heart aches a little—could Mangaliso be mad at her? Why isn’t he answering? With a sigh, she leaves her room and heads to the dining room.

She finds everyone seated in the dining room and greets them before taking a seat next to her father. 

“Aren’t you hungry, Cupcake? We’ve already eaten, thina,” her father asks.

“Oh, let me go get my food then; I’m famished,” she replies as she gets up and heads to the kitchen. But when she arrives, she finds nothing. She checks the microwave but sees no plate of food. Confused, she walks back to the dining room.

“I can’t find my food in the kitchen,” she says.

“How come? Wifey, you were the one cooking. Where did you put the child’s food?” her father asks her mother, Lulama.

“I didn’t dish anything for her; wasn’t she sleeping? I thought she was full,” Lulama replies, arms folded as she watches TV.

“Tell me you’re kidding, Lulama,” Bradley, her father, says incredulously.

“She has money; she can go buy something for herself,” Lulama retorts.

She stares at her mother in disbelief, blinking away tears. Feeling hurt, she leaves the dining room and heads to her room, leaving her parents arguing behind her. She closes the door and locks it, then throws herself onto her bed. The tears she thought she could hold back begin to flow freely down her cheeks. How could her mother do this? How could she assume she was full just because she was sleeping? She cries until exhaustion takes over.

Just as she starts to drift off to sleep, her phone rings—it’s Mangaliso. She quickly wipes her tears and answers, trying hard to mask her emotions.

“Sthandwa Sam, are you okay?” he asks as soon as he picks up.

“Yeah, I’m fine, and you?” she replies, but her voice betrays her.

“Wait, why does your voice sound like you’ve been crying?” he asks with concern.

“No, I haven’t been crying at all,” she lies, but deep down, she knows she’s fooling no one.

“So you mean I’m crazy and hearing things?” he asks, his concern evident. She stays silent.

“Talk to me. What’s wrong? You were even offline on WhatsApp the whole day, not answering my calls. Are you sick, love?” he presses.

“No, no, I’m not sick. I’m sorry about that; I was out taking a walk with my father and left my phone at home. When I came back, I took a nap because I was tired,” she explains, hoping to ease his worries.

“Oh, okay. But you still haven’t answered me—why were you crying?” he asks gently. She lets out a sigh.

“I… well, I just had an argument with my mother, that’s all,” she admits.

“Should I be worried?” he inquires, concern still lacing his voice. She shakes her head as if he can see her.

“No, you shouldn’t be worried,” she reassures him, though inside she feels anything but calm.

“If you say so… well, I miss my girlfriend,” he says, and she blushes, momentarily forgetting the tears that had just stained her cheeks.

“I miss you too,” she replies, her heart swelling with affection. Yes, she misses him so much.

“Can I see you tomorrow? Maybe we can spend a few hours together?” he asks hopefully.

“Yes, you can, babe,” she responds with a smile. They talk for as long as they can, sharing laughter and warmth until they say their goodbyes.…

Just then, a knock comes at her door. 

“Ses Aya, it’s me, Ndabezinhle,” a voice calls out. She gets up and goes to open the door.

“Hey,” she says as Ndabezinhle enters, carrying a tray with noodles and a cup of coffee.

“I made you this since you haven’t eaten anything,” Ndabezinhle says with a smile. She is the ninth sibling.

“Thank you, little sis,” she replies gratefully, taking the tray from her.

“Can I come in?” Ndabe asks. She nods and lets her in, closing the door behind them. They both sit on the bed as she starts eating and sipping the coffee made by her little sister.

“How is school?” she asks, breaking the silence.

“School is fine, Sis Aya,” Ndabe answers, and she nods in response.

“Are you going to stay forever?” Ndabe asks, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“No, I’m leaving in two days,” she tells her gently. Ndabe nods, a hint of disappointment crossing her face.

“When will you take me with you? I want to visit you!” Ndabe exclaims. She looks at her innocent face and feels a pang of longing.

“Oh, little sis, I don’t know, but I promise one day I will come and fetch you to visit me, okay?” she assures her. Ndabezinhle nods, smiling brightly .

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She chats with her little sister until they both head to the kitchen to wash the bowl and cup. The dining area is empty; everyone has already gone to sleep.

“I’m heading to bed, Sis Aya,” Ndabezinhle says.

“Okay, nana. Sweet dreams,” she replies, watching her little sister make her way to where the kids all sleep. She decides to make some warm water to drink before going to bed.

As she waits for the kettle to boil, she suddenly feels someone’s presence behind her. She turns and is met by her mother, staring daggers at her.

“When are you leaving?” Lulama demands, her tone sharp.

“I don’t know, maybe in two days,” she answers cautiously.

“Why not tomorrow? Because clearly, you’re here to create problems for me!” Lulama snaps, a frown etched on her face.

“What do you mean, Mama?” she asks, confused by the accusation.

“Stop acting like you don’t know! Since you got here, your father and I have been fighting and arguing because of you, Mntana ndini!” Lulama says, half-yelling but trying to keep her voice down so no one else hears.

“I... I... Mama,” she stammers, trying to speak, but Lulama cuts her off.

“Suthi Mama apha! You are a thorn in my life! You will ruin my life!” Lulama exclaims, her frustration boiling over.

“I will never and can never accept a problem that will ruin my life! Switch off that kettle; you’re finishing my electricity—the one you never bought!” Lulama continues, charging toward her. 

In a swift motion, she pushes her away from the kettle and grabs it carelessly. Water spills out onto her hand, and she instinctively covers her mouth to stifle a scream, closing her eyes against the pain. Lulama doesn’t even flinch; she pours the remaining water down the sink and slams the kettle onto the table.

Without another word, Lulama leaves her standing there, tears streaming down her face. She quickly puts her hand under cold water to soothe the burn and tries to gather herself .The cold water rushes over her hand, she winces at the sting but feels a small sense of relief. She takes a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. The kitchen feels eerily quiet now, and the tension from her mother’s outburst lingers in the air like an unwelcome guest.She wipes her tears with the back of her hand, feeling a mix of hurt and sadness bubbling inside her. Why does everything have to be so complicated? She thinks about how she had only wanted to spend time with her family, yet it always turned out  to conflicts. After a few moments, she turns off the tap and wipes her hand dry with a towel. Looking around the dimly lit kitchen,  she leans against the counter for a moment, contemplating her next move. Should she just leave tomorrow as Lulama suggested? A part of her wants to escape the tension and go back to her own life where things felt simpler. But another part longs for staying home, 

With tears streaming down her face once more, she decided it was best to go to sleep. Her heart felt heavy, and questions swirled in her mind like a storm. What did her mother mean by "She will ruin her life?" The thought nagged at her, but she pushed it aside, too exhausted to dwell on it any longer. 

Climbing into bed, she pulled the covers tightly around herself, seeking comfort in their warmth. As she lay there, the tears continued to fall silently, soaking into her pillow. Eventually, she surrendered to the weight of her emotions and cried herself to sleep, hoping that with dawn would come clarity and peace.

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