left her alone.” She bites her lower lip and her angled face softens.
“Do you want to call her now, before we go?” Nomsulwa asks patiently, waiting for Claire to make a decision. ButClaire is immobile, paralyzed by the wad of pink messages in her pocket.
“She told me to come. Said I couldn’t sit around the house all day, waiting by the phone for the police to call. She said that I needed to do
something
. And she was right. I needed to leave, to come find out for myself.”
Nomsulwa thinks about her own mother. “But now you’re gone and she’s desperate to have you back. You know, she’s worried, that’s all.”
“I know.” Claire’s voice gets quieter, like she is talking to a co-conspirator. “But I can’t call and listen to her cry on the phone.”
Nomsulwa understands what it means to escape that responsibility. “What if there’s nothing to find out here? What if you left her for no reason.”
“There is. There has to be something. He just got on a plane. He got on a plane and disappeared into thin air and that’s not …” Claire searches for the end of her sentence.
“You should call your mother.”
“She’s my mother. Don’t worry about it. I will.” Claire begins to walk away, but this time Nomsulwa is the one to stay put.
“She’s your responsibility now.” Nomsulwa presses. “He’s gone so you have to take care of her from now on.”
“I will. Don’t you think I know that?” Nomsulwa detects a tiny bit of anger and impatience in her voice.
“I know what it’s like to have a dead father and a broken mother. That part I understand.”
This Claire doesn’t respond to, so Nomsulwa continues, walking past Claire to the exit as she talks. “It can feel like a huge weight and unfair and you can waste your whole life trying to make things better just so you can finally escape and that doesn’t really ever happen.”
“Look.” Claire stops just before the door, blocking Nomsulwa’s way. “That’s not my life, okay? I’m going to start school when I get back home. I’m going to move out and get my own apartment and live my life. My father would have wanted that.”
“Is that what
you
want?” They stand face to face, now.
Claire shifts her gaze to the ground, giving up on their staring contest. “All I want is to have him back.”
Nomsulwa can’t look at Claire any more. The feeling of wishing she knew nothing about water men is so overpowering it makes her feel like she might split in two. When she is with the fragile girl in front of her, all confusion and sadness, she regrets every moment of her life that brought her anywhere near the company and the police.
“We should get going.” Nomsulwa barely manages to say.
“Yeah.” Claire walks down the steps to the waiting car.
Nomsulwa gets into the driver’s seat. She turns on the car and presses on the gas, hoping speed and the highway and the noise will erase the thoughts Claire has brought up in her.
Claire finally settles in and watches the road. Nomsulwa takes a deep breath and turns down the radio, now playing soft R&B .
Claire takes out the many crumpled pink messages once they are clearly out of the city. She smoothes out one message in particular. Nomsulwa glances over, but can’t read the writing.
“It’s the water company. They left me an itinerary and a phone number for Alvin something. So I guess I’ll call him and see if they can’t help me find my father’s papers.”
Nomsulwa imagines Claire alone in a cold office with pieces of her father everywhere. She pictures her surrounded by him and his life and how hard that must be. Maybe the girl in the car with her has more pride and strength than she gave her credit for. They drive in silence, only light radio in the background. The traffic smooths by. They have just missed the rush hour minibus taxis and commuters in fast cars, and the road seems almost peaceful. Highway turns back into urban avenues between large buildings as
“Do you want to call her now, before we go?” Nomsulwa asks patiently, waiting for Claire to make a decision. ButClaire is immobile, paralyzed by the wad of pink messages in her pocket.
“She told me to come. Said I couldn’t sit around the house all day, waiting by the phone for the police to call. She said that I needed to do
something
. And she was right. I needed to leave, to come find out for myself.”
Nomsulwa thinks about her own mother. “But now you’re gone and she’s desperate to have you back. You know, she’s worried, that’s all.”
“I know.” Claire’s voice gets quieter, like she is talking to a co-conspirator. “But I can’t call and listen to her cry on the phone.”
Nomsulwa understands what it means to escape that responsibility. “What if there’s nothing to find out here? What if you left her for no reason.”
“There is. There has to be something. He just got on a plane. He got on a plane and disappeared into thin air and that’s not …” Claire searches for the end of her sentence.
“You should call your mother.”
“She’s my mother. Don’t worry about it. I will.” Claire begins to walk away, but this time Nomsulwa is the one to stay put.
“She’s your responsibility now.” Nomsulwa presses. “He’s gone so you have to take care of her from now on.”
“I will. Don’t you think I know that?” Nomsulwa detects a tiny bit of anger and impatience in her voice.
“I know what it’s like to have a dead father and a broken mother. That part I understand.”
This Claire doesn’t respond to, so Nomsulwa continues, walking past Claire to the exit as she talks. “It can feel like a huge weight and unfair and you can waste your whole life trying to make things better just so you can finally escape and that doesn’t really ever happen.”
“Look.” Claire stops just before the door, blocking Nomsulwa’s way. “That’s not my life, okay? I’m going to start school when I get back home. I’m going to move out and get my own apartment and live my life. My father would have wanted that.”
“Is that what
you
want?” They stand face to face, now.
Claire shifts her gaze to the ground, giving up on their staring contest. “All I want is to have him back.”
Nomsulwa can’t look at Claire any more. The feeling of wishing she knew nothing about water men is so overpowering it makes her feel like she might split in two. When she is with the fragile girl in front of her, all confusion and sadness, she regrets every moment of her life that brought her anywhere near the company and the police.
“We should get going.” Nomsulwa barely manages to say.
“Yeah.” Claire walks down the steps to the waiting car.
Nomsulwa gets into the driver’s seat. She turns on the car and presses on the gas, hoping speed and the highway and the noise will erase the thoughts Claire has brought up in her.
Claire finally settles in and watches the road. Nomsulwa takes a deep breath and turns down the radio, now playing soft R&B .
Claire takes out the many crumpled pink messages once they are clearly out of the city. She smoothes out one message in particular. Nomsulwa glances over, but can’t read the writing.
“It’s the water company. They left me an itinerary and a phone number for Alvin something. So I guess I’ll call him and see if they can’t help me find my father’s papers.”
Nomsulwa imagines Claire alone in a cold office with pieces of her father everywhere. She pictures her surrounded by him and his life and how hard that must be. Maybe the girl in the car with her has more pride and strength than she gave her credit for. They drive in silence, only light radio in the background. The traffic smooths by. They have just missed the rush hour minibus taxis and commuters in fast cars, and the road seems almost peaceful. Highway turns back into urban avenues between large buildings as
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