The Big Boys Club

Chapter Nine: Father Figures

Mathew was a teenager as well when he began drinking. He had suffered with anxiety and the pressure from his father who he constantly had to face everyday with a finger drilled into his skull as the skeletons of the their ancestors were awoken within him. As if their forefathers were all in the room, reprimanding him into submission to be strong, never ever weak. He spat the words his father used to say under his breathe, being reminded again of his flawed family structure, which contained a long line of abusers. They all became invisible in Mathew's household where everyone pretended that they were happy as if they weren't apparent in his one and only father.

He's internal world pulled him away from his family, and he found himself in crooked places trying to become a different person, often staying away from home for weeks and moving in between cities with older friends. They nurtured his need for adventure and he learned a lot about society in those years, before he stepped into his own spirituality and found himself funneled within the billions of people that existed.

He never knew or understood permanence, and he didn't see himself stuck in one place for long but when he met Cynthia in a transitional period in his life, becoming sober for the first time, he felt that he could finally settle down and mold a future with her in South Africa.

She was a natural beauty, with a quaint energy that contrasted the growing fire within him, yearning to spread. He was studying a theology degree, but nothing he learned in those lecture halls compared to the love he felt for her.

Mathew took note of many people at the university. He wasn't well known or anything, but he loved to people watch. On one particular day, he was reading through a textbook, seated idly on a bench, when a young lady that passed by him caught his attention.

She looked lost, eyes drifting here and there as if she was new to the campus. He stood up immediately, and in his usual charming way, he offered his help. At first she was reluctant until she shared with him that she had been searching for a certain department where a friend would be needing help packing some supplies.

They walked together, letting small talk fill the silent air between them. Her hair flew in the breeze, and she awkwardly pushed it back, laughing at herself nervously when he stared at her.

"You're beautiful."

Behind him, Nstika groaned in the back seat of his car and he immediately stopped it. The young man opened the door and began vomiting, loudly, snatching Mathew away from the fond memory he had been revisiting in his mind. He offered to take him home, seeing that he would have wasted away at the bar and probably kicked out once closing time arrived.

Ntsika closed the door, and laid his body down on the hot seats. Sweat dripping from his even hotter skin.

"We'll be there in five." Mathew shared but he isn't met with a response. He continues driving, focusing on the road as they reached Nstika's neighborhood.

He stopped at a gate, and saw a man approaching, opening the gate for him to drive in.

Nstika is woken up by a door opening before two pairs of hands grab him from within his enclosure.

"Thank you," Themba let out gravely.

Mathew replied with soft a nod, pleased that he succeeded in finding their home.

"Are you his father?" He asked curiously before entering his car.

"Uncle." Themba let out stiffly as he held his nephew in his arms.

"You need help with him?"

"It's okay, you've done enough." Themba drags the sleeping body into the house which was already opened with light seeping into the driveway.