Afrika by Colleen Craig Read Free Book Online Page A

in Xhosa. She had forgotten four and five but didn't want him to know that.
    “Kim, listen. How many Van der Merwes does it take to –”
    “I'm not falling for that,” she said, cutting him off. Themba had told her that her surname – Van der Merwe – was so common that it was a national joke in South Africa. Even in Canada she hated it, a name she thought to be better suited to tractors or lawn mowers than human beings.
    It was just like her mother to give Kim
her
surname and not her father's. Probably her dad had an ordinary English name.
    “I have good news for you,” Themba said. “Themba Bandla has come up with a plan to find out more about your father.”
    “Sh,” she warned. “Mom is in the next room.” She pulled out a stool for him. “What's the plan?”
    “Remember how your ma is coming this Sunday to the township to interview my neighbor, Mrs. Bansi?”
    Kim nodded. Riana was very grateful that Themba had suggested the interview.
    “My plan is this,” continued Themba. “I'll try my best to get your ma alone and fire off a question or two about your father.”
    “You can try,” Kim said, lowering her voice. “But from my experience, she won't tell you.”
    “We need to make her,” Themba said. “We need to disarm her until she lets drop one little detail like his age, job, whereabouts, maybe even his name.”
    There was a thumping that built in her chest whenever they talked about the possibility of finding her father.
    “Don't you have predictions about who he is?” he asked. “A professional athlete? A circus performer? A teacher?”
    “I don't know,” said Kim. She noticed that whenever Themba mentioned the search, he became animated.
    “What else do we have?” he asked.
    “My mom gave me a notebook that belonged to my father,” said Kim.“The writing is illegible. But on the back page I noticed he wrote the word Africa spelt with a
K
. What do you make of it?”
    “Maybe he's European.” suggested Themba. “A German baron? A Polish count?”
    Kim shrugged. “He's South African, born and raised. I know that much.”
    “We'll find him,” said Themba. Kim appreciated Themba's offer. She wished she could do something as important for him. Suddenly, she had an idea.
    “Maybe when my mom interviews your neighbor we can find out something new about your father's disappearance,” she said.
    There was a pause. It went on so long that Kim jumped in to fill it. “Themba?”
    “I'm here,” he said staring out the burglar bars.
    “Maybe there will be a new detail you hadn't heard.”
    Themba sat up tall and stiff on the stool. His entire expression had changed. “There will not,” he said with a cold voice. “I've heard Mrs. Bansi's story a million times and can't stomach to hear it once more.”
    The sharp edge to his voice alarmed her. Kim was sorry to have brought up his father.
    Themba jumped off the stool. “I have to go.” He paused to make sure she had his full attention before he said, “I've got a soccer game down at the Arena. Blokes only.”
    Filled with envy, Kim said nothing.
    “Give a message to your Oom Piet,” Themba said at the door. His anger intensified when he mentioned her uncle's name. “Tell him that his shack's roof is leaking,” he said. A second later he was gone.
    Her mood dropped the moment she heard the back gate crash shut. Was it
her
fault Lettie and Themba lived in her backyard and that their roof leaked? And why did Themba mention Oom Piet's name like that?
    More than anything, she hated the way Themba had brought up the soccer match. Beside the back door was the calendar where she had ticked off each day since their arrival. Today was July 30th – back home it was the middle of summer. She normally played soccer every day in the summer. Her heart pulled at the memory.“Ready, over here!” she would bellow, and on cue, one of her teammates would pass the ball to her. The perfection of those passes – the thrill of moving the ball