The Old Man did not answer. That was how his wife always talked before he went off for a beer drink. He rose up and called his dogs, took his walking stick and set off down the road.
“Now where do you think you are going?” MaNdlovu yelled after him.
The Old Man did not answer. He walked on whistling an unintelligible tune.
MaNdlovu ran to the kitchen, collected the thirty cents and ran after the Old Man. The Old Man knew what was happening but he did not look back until MaNdlovu caught up with him, now panting.
“There you are ,” she said, handing him the thirty cents.
The Old Man took the thirty cents and pocketed it, still walking.
They walked four some distance, both silent, then the Old Man said: “Is that what you like? Running after me every time I am off for a beer drink?”
MaNdlovu did not answer. The Old Man stopped, looked at his wife for some seconds, tears nearly dropping down his cheeks then hugged her.
“Sorry if I have hurt you my dear.”
That was always how they parted.
“Come home early. Remember there is a curfew.”
“All right,” the Old Man said and walked away.
He was not back home until eight in the evening, though he was supposed to be indoors by six. All along the way, he was singing:
KIll if you want to
I am not the one who started the war
After all what have I got to lose
My sons are now beasts of the jungle with no home
So what have I got to lose
If I have anything to lose
Why not spend my last days enjoying myself
After all they say there is no return where I go.
(306 VIEWS)
