His Helper

14

After standing on the side road next to the airport, attempting to hitchhike to Port Alfred for almost two hours, I finally got a lift from a white couple. I had left Anele's house around four in the morning, took a Bolt to town, and waited at the gas station, basking in the sunrise. Considering my apprehension and the desire to avoid any potential trouble, I opted for caution.

As the first days of summer unfolded, I noticed a subtle shift in the sun's position during sunrise. Seated on my suitcase, I reflected on the changes occurring in the natural world around me.

My life was also changing, evolving from a teenager in university mourning the loss of her parents to an instant mother and the widower's helper. Now, I found myself in search of answers and guidance. Fortunately, my friend who was roommate lived in Port Alfred, and she already had a teaching job there. She graciously agreed that I could come live with her family. It turned out that her aunt, who lived alone, needed assistance in her bakery.

Despite lacking experience in the bakery industry, I brimmed with business ideas. As Chantelle shared stories about her aunt, I sensed the need for improvements in the bakery. Saving up became crucial because I harbored a long-standing desire to partner with Aunt Aubrey. I envisioned collaborating with her and Chantelle to devise a plan that would breathe new life into the bakery and pave the way for success.

❤️

As soon as I got to town, she came and picked me up. Her aunt lived in the same building as the bakery upstairs. When we arrived, I was surprised to find that her aunt was elderly. The bakery, though old, was clean. The worn wood floors and antique furniture gave it the feel of a renovation project from a home improvement show.

"Okay, what's the deal with your aunt? Is the store even making a profit?" I asked once we got upstairs. Chantelle laughed and whispered, "Be careful; she might hear you. You could find yourself homeless. My husband and I won't have a room for you." She teased, and I responded, "Fine, I'll behave. But seriously, this place needs some TLC."

We spent the day cleaning the room I was going to use. I was fortunate Chantelle worked a half-day to ensure I arrived safely and that my living quarters were in good shape. Later, we went down the street and had a late lunch.

When I was left alone in that room, my mind drifted to Anele, the kids, and everything I had left behind. Fortunately, I had spoken with my sisters in the morning before they left, letting them know I needed some time alone. I knew they wouldn't bother me. I had done the same thing when I went to university, asking to be left alone and promising to call when I was okay. The reason my phone was off was that I didn't want to ignore calls from Anele and his family. Just thinking about them made me cry.

I went downstairs to avoid being alone. Aunt Aubrey was busy cleaning after closing. "Can I help?" We had already introduced ourselves. She looked at me with a smile. "Chantelle spoke about you a lot, how you kept the place clean where you lived. So, fair warning, if you're about to turn my place upside down, then I better be here to watch it because I'd hate to look for things that you threw out." Smiling, I said, "I was just going to help." She handed me a broom. "Good, then let's do this."

Her mistake was leaving me to do exactly what I needed to avoid thinking and be alone. I started cleaning the display counter after sweeping, but somehow, I fell asleep. "I won't say I didn't see this coming." I woke up to someone speaking. It was Aunt Aubrey. Standing next to her was Chantelle. "You need her. I know she can make this place great," Aunt Aubrey continued. "Hey, sleepyhead." I stretched my limbs and got up slowly. "Go and sleep. I'll start baking now. I don't want my customers to find you sleeping here." Then she said something in Afrikaans to Chantelle, but Chantelle answered in English, as if she could sense that I didn't like it when they spoke a language I didn't understand. I did the same at university, speaking only English because I didn't want her to feel left out.

When I got upstairs, I sat down, switching my phone on to check messages. 'I know there is something they are not saying from the way they freaked out when they realized you were gone. Please come back, Sisi Unako.' A message from Liyema. He wasn't one to beg, so his message got to me. I scrolled down, avoiding looking at Anele and Sandra's messages. I checked all the other messages and responded, then I checked emails. It seemed Anele couldn't sleep. I found many emails from him, which I didn't read. I switched off my phone, then went to shower. When I was done, I went downstairs to check on Aunt Aubrey. It was still early, around ten in the morning, and it didn't look like anyone had gotten inside.

I understood that it was a small town, but something needed to happen. I went to the back where she was baking. "Hey, Aunt Aubrey. I was wondering what happens to the treats after closing. I mean, you bake every day." She turned around, looking at me. "There's a home not far from here. I drive there in the morning to donate." I commended her for that, but I wondered how that worked with her books. I could sympathize with the disarray of her books; the shop's struggle was evident. It lacked a certain finesse. She possessed a genuine passion for baking, but the business side seemed to elude her, much like it did for me. Armed with newfound knowledge and a few tweaks, I was convinced I could breathe life into that struggling shop - if only she'd allow the assistance.

I took a walk around town, getting familiar with the area I was going to call home. I had never thought of living in a small town. I thought I would stay in East London or go to Johannesburg. Cape Town was good only when I was studying there. Shops lined both sides of the streets, and as I went down, I could see the sea, the harbor, and the small marine island. It looked beautiful. I wished my phone was on so I could take a picture, but I didn't even carry it with me. I went to a store and decided to buy another SIM card; I needed a phone. I couldn't go around without a phone. How would I be able to communicate with Aunt Aubrey and Chantelle? The lady who was helping me asked for proof of address, and I showed her that I had just moved to town and was going to live with Aubrey. She helped me.

I strolled back, the lunchtime hustle evident in the store. An idea sparked, but I needed Chantelle present. Once in my room, I swiftly shot her an email, setting up the phone. Glancing at new emails from Anele, I resisted the urge to delve into them. My stomach churned with an unfamiliar sensation, thoughts drifting to Nelisa and the longing for their well-being. I wished they'd move on, forgetting about me. Perhaps a twisted narrative could paint me as a villain, easing their memories, but the power wasn't mine. It rested with their family, choosing truth or crafting a narrative.

I quickly took my laptop and downloaded this five-dimensional app for house designers. I used to play around with it on my phone, building my dream home. Now, I was using it to revamp the bakery. If the bakery was so busy and in a city with a lot of people, it would need space for queues and long counters for display. But now, it was a little spacious, and the plan was to use what we already had because I had a feeling the store didn't make any profit.

I made the baking kitchen to be where it was; the front needed to be pushed back a little to make room for a sitting area, meaning the counters needed to be a few meters from the kitchen wall. The only space needed was for the cashier to be able to walk around. Then I took my notebook and wrote a description of what I had in mind. After a while, I went down; Aunt Aubrey offered me some muffins, but I bought eclairs instead. I sat around, and we spoke for a while. Since she was no longer baking, she told me how she got the bakery from her grandmother after she came back after losing her husband when she was in her forties. She had always loved baking from childhood and had so many recipes, including her grandmother's, but couldn't bake everything in there since she didn't have a lot of customers. She was an energetic person; she loved working just like me. The bakery was always spotless.

Yearning for a different upbringing, I wished I'd grown up in that locale. It held the promise of a cozy spot to sit and study, a respite from the confines of home. There were moments when the desire to escape for focused study was overwhelming. The park was a no-go due to safety concerns, vetoed by my cautious parents. But envision a sanctuary, a quiet nook by the corner of the shop, offering the solitude of a library. That dream remained elusive, with the actual library a distant trek from my upbringing. Affording the journey was a challenge, requiring me to muster the courage to ask my parents for money.