Holding Up the Sky by Sandy Blackburn-Wright Read Free Book Online

fragile, as if the slightest breeze might break them. We agreed to keep things between us and not let the others know that we were now together. Looking back, although we were seeking time and privacy, I wonder whether it wasn’t crystal clear to everybody that we had feelings for each other. I suspect Steve must have known, perceptive man that he is, and a sucker for a love story.
    Given the hectic pace of the last month, Steve gave us all five days off after the camp. Mary-Anne, Msizi and I decided to go down to Cape Town, giving Gary a lift to Grahamstown. Matt and Liz, Bee, Chook and Charlie had decided to take a trip in another direction before heading home to Australia. In four weeks time, I was flying out to Canada, where I had enrolled to study for the remainder of the year. I had no idea when I would see my Aussie friends again. But I knew I would miss their humour, friendship and the occasional shoulder to cry on.
    You pass right by the township of Rini on your way into Grahamstown, so we dropped Msizi at his home first. We had planned to stay over in Grahamstown and continue our journey early the next morning. When we arrived at the tiny four-roomed house on a dusty piece of ground that Msizi called home, we all went inside to greet his mother. Jonga, his younger brother, told us she had gone to Port Elizabeth, not knowing we were coming as they had no phone. Msizi looked quite broken-hearted as he hadn’t seen his mother for three months. As we drove off, I watched him walking down the dirt road in search of a friend.
    We then drove to Jacques and Margie’s house. They were good friends with Gary and Vicky as well as with Msizi, as they were active in community development in Grahamstown. Jacques had just become a minister and his church had projects in the township. Margie worked at a local art and craft co-operative that promoted the work of African artists and sold their artwork all over the country. It was my first meeting with this warm and endearing couple who were to become close friends in the years to come, sharing many of my life’s milestones and pains.
    Over coffee, Mary-Anne took me aside and told me she was so upset about Msizi not being able to see his mother that she wanted to suggest we drive through to Port Elizabeth and try to find her for him. I agreed, but tried not to look overly enthusiastic, given that we hadn’t told Mary-Anne about our new relationship. Gary had his graduation ceremony the following night, so he wasn’t coming with us to Cape Town. We said our goodbyes and went back to Rini. We were aware that two white women driving alone through the township could attract unwanted attention, so we hoped we found Msizi quickly. He was at the second house we tried, thanks to Jonga’s fine directions. Msizi was grateful for the offer to see his mother, so we headed towards the coast. While it’s only an hour to Port Elizabeth, it took us a few hours to find Msizi’s mother at his uncle’s house. His mother’s brother was a policeman whom Msizi found little reason to visit, so he had trouble finding the house in the sprawling townships outside the windy city. There were many black policemen in the township, though it was not a popular job as they were often required to act against their own. People usually joined the police force as a way to feed the family. Someone like Msizi, who was often under the watchful eye of the police given his role as a local youth leader, could understand but not support his uncle’s decision.
    We were offered tea by Msizi’s aunt and sat awkwardly around the small living room that was so crammed with furniture that our knees almost touched. It was wonderful to meet Msizi’s mother. I watched her watch us and wondered if she could read her son’s mind. If she didn’t know already, I suspected she might before we came back in the morning. I was unsure what she would think about her son’s strange