Tumelo stood there, frozen in amazement, wondering what had just happened. The old man's words echoed in his mind: "Today, from tomorrow, things are going to be different. You'll see."
As he walked away from the bush, Tumelo felt a strange sensation, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He looked around, taking in the familiar sights of the town, but everything seemed different now.
The trees seemed taller, the birds sang sweeter, and the sky seemed bluer. He trudged on, the warm sun beating down on his back.
"Just one more kilometer," he thought, "and I'll be home." As he entered his rural township, the landscape shifted. The urban area's grand houses and manicured lawns gave way to a more rustic scene.
Small, weathered shacks and makeshift homes dotted the landscape, surrounded by scrubby bushes and dusty pathways. Tumelo's eyes scanned the familiar terrain, his gaze settling on his family's small, corrugated iron house in the distance.
The thatched roof was worn and patchy, but the sight of it filled him with a sense of comfort and relief. As he approached, he remembered the two dogs that lived nearby, notorious for their aggressive barking and snapping.
Last time, one of them had chased him, jaws snarling, and Tumelo had barely escaped unscathed. He slowed his pace, wary of another confrontation.
But to his astonishment, the dogs merely looked up at him, their tails wagging lazily. One of them, a scruffy little terrier, even padded over to Tumelo, its ears perked up in a friendly gesture.
Tumelo's eyes widened in surprise as the dogs trotted alongside him, their demeanor transformed from fierce to friendly. "What's going on?" Tumelo wondered, perplexed.
He quickened his pace, the dogs keeping pace with him. As he reached his gate, he turned to them, as if to say, "Shoo! Go away!" The dogs obediently turned around and ambled off, leaving Tumelo to ponder the strange encounter.
He pushed open the creaky gate and stepped into his family's small yard, the dogs' unusual behavior still swirling in his mind. "This is weird," he thought, shaking his head. "What's happening to me?"
As Tumelo was going into his house, he reached into his pocket to find his key. But to his surprise, the door was already slightly ajar. He pushed it open slowly, wondering what was going on.
His father, Mr. Lepodisa, was sitting in the sitting room, which was dimly lit by the afternoon sun. The room was small, with a worn-out couch and a coffee table in the center. A old TV stood in the corner, and a few family photos hung on the walls.
Tumelo's father was a sturdy man in his late forties, with a rough-hewn face and a thick head of graying hair. His eyes, a deep brown, seemed to bore into Tumelo's soul as he looked up from his seat. His worn denim overalls were stained with engine grease and dirt, a testament to his hard work as a mechanic.
As Tumelo walked in, his eyes fixed on his father's rugged face, etched with lines of worry and fatigue. His father's broad shoulders seemed to slump slightly, as if the weight of the world was bearing down on him.
"Daddy, why aren't you at work?" Tumelo asked, trying to sound casual despite the anxiety growing in his chest.
His father looked up, his eyes narrowing as he took in Tumelo's bruised face. "Hello, son. I'm not at work because something happened. I had to come home early."
Tumelo's father perked up, his eyes burning with a mixture of concern and anger. "Son, why does your face look like that? You're bruised and battered. What happened?"
Tumelo stuttered, trying to find the words. "F-father, it's...it's Jacob. He beat me."
His father's voice grew louder, his expression stern. "Speak up, son! What happened?"
Tumelo took a deep breath, trying to explain. But before he could continue, his father cut him off.
"Jacob again? I thought we reported him to the principal. Now he's still doing this to you? People with money think they can cover anything up."
Tumelo's father leaned forward, his eyes blazing with determination. "You see, son, I want you to be strong. I want you to defend yourself. You can't be beaten up like this. We may not be a strong family, but I believe you can lift up our name, the name Molefe."
Tumelo stood before his father, his eyes cast downward. "Yes, Father," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Tumelo's family was a big and influential one, with a rich history and successful businesses. However, his father had chosen to leave the family's luxurious lifestyle behind, disapproving of the hierarchy and corruption that had taken over. Instead, they lived a humble life in the township.
A somber mood settled over the small house, weighed down by the knowledge that Tumelo's mother, Mamosadi, lay bedridden in the hospital, her body weakened by the relentless grip of HIV/AIDS.
Tumelo looked up at his father and asked, "Dad, when can we visit Mom at the hospital?"
His dad said, "Son, soon you will go see your mom. Your mom is gonna make it true. She is strong."
Tumelo's eyes searched his father's face. "Dad, is Mom gonna be okay?"
His father's expression was reassuring. "Yes, son. As I told you, your mom is gonna be strong. She's gonna make it true."
As his father stood there, he thought to himself, "How can I tell my son that his mother is going to die after five months? I cannot bring myself to hurt him."
Just then, their cat, Jessie, ran into the living room. Tumelo exclaimed, "Hello, Jessie!" And to his astonishment, Jessie looked at him and said in a clear voice, "Hello, lazy boy."
Tumelo's eyes widened in shock. "What did you say?" he blurted out.
His father looked at him, confused. "Father what? Son, what?"
Tumelo realized he had forgotten that he was standing in front of his father. He looked at the cat, thinking to himself, "Oh no, I'm not going crazy today."
Tumelo looked at his father and said, stuttering, "D-didn't you hear that?"
His dad looked at him confused and said, "Hê? What son? Listen, listen. The cat said that I'm a lazy...?"
And his dad thought to himself, "Oh no. He's now making up things. Just because of the sadness of today, what happened to him and his mom... I didn't know that things were burying hard on him. Now he's making up things."
While the cat stood there looking at Tumelo and his father, it meowed again, but as it meowed, words came out. And every time the cat meowed, words came out, but Tumelo's father couldn't hear a word.
Tumelo thought to himself, "I can hear what he's saying, but my father cannot. This is crazy. This is crazy."
He said, "Father, let me just go and wash myself up. It's been a day for me, Dad."
His father said, "Yes, son. Go."
And then the cat went with Tumelo to his room. Tumelo said to himself, "Can you really talk?"
And his cat meowed again. "You are not as stupid as I think you are."