Uyangijabulisa

chapter twenty-five

"Your son is very lucky Mrs. Ntlatleng. He suffered gunshot wounds to his head and his chest, both of which could've been deadly very easily, but fortunately for him, the bullets didn't hit anything important. He did suffer a lung laceration and we had to drain out the blood that had filled up in there. Since he suffered head trauma, we're anticipating some mild amnesia, but all will be confirmed once he wakes up. He's currently in ICU, in a coma, which can last up to two weeks considering his type of injury." The doctor fills us in.

The breath I didn't know I was holding escapes me in a sigh of relief. The past few hours of waiting have been agonising. In those ticking seconds many things came to mind, like how it would absolutely end me if he dies on that operating table. Like how I should've went back to him because in the end I knew he was the home I wanted to go back to at the end of each day. Like how I love him so much it makes it hard to breathe when he's not near.

The prayers I prayed in those hours exceed the prayers I've ever prayed in my whole entire life. So when the doctor tells us the news that he's alive, even though there are some complications, I fall down on the cold chair in relief, my bones feeling heavy.

"So he's going to live?" she asks in incredulity, her hands coming up to her mouth as breathy sobs left her. She expresses my feelings in a way I'm failing to do, which gives me some consolation because I'm just numb at this point.

"Yes ma'am, your son is going to live. He's allowed two visitors at a time. While you decide who that is, I'll be at reception," the doctor says and leaves us.

I immediately shrink further into myself, wanting to appear smaller, not wanting to interfere because after all, I was a mere girlfriend, and not even that since I took a break from him, struggling through emotions of whether to go back or not. If only I had allowed him to marry me that time, I'd have precedence over everyone.

"Rorisang and I will be the first to enter," his mother says firmly, looking at both her husband and oldest daughter with warning in her eyes. They know not to argue and I stumble on my feet when she looks at me expectantly.

She takes a hold of my hand and squeezes tightly. I wonder if it is to comfort me or her, or maybe it's for both our benefit? What I know is, I appreciate her a lot in that moment and promise to follow up on that date she had once asked for us to set up.

My heart breaks at the sight of him. All those tubes connected to him look painful. His face looks peaceful, like he's not one with his body. A sob breaks out of my mouth, my knees feeling weak.

His face. His beautiful, handsome face. Oh how I've missed it. I didn't think the next time I'll see it will be with tubes sticking out of his mouth and nose but boy am I glad to see it regardless.

I reach for a chair and sit down, trying to gather my bearings. My hand reaches for his and I make sure not to disturb the things hooked on it. It felt cold, and if it wasn't for the heart monitor on the side of his bed, I would've thought him dead.

"My dearest, kindest and fiercest son. To think I almost lost you, it breaks my heart all over again when the thought passes my mind. Wake up my baby boy, I want to see your smile, see your eyes shine, see your whole face transform. I hope this was a lesson, this life your grandfather put you on? It's not safe for you, and those you love. This is bringing back memories of when he forced you to kill that man. How you broke down and shook in my arms, the nightmares that followed, and how you had lost a little of that shine. When you come back, please promise me to leave this life, I cannot stomach coming here again, or even going to the mortuary to identify your body. Come back and be mommy's boy again. I love you okay?"

Of course Thabo remained still, unmoving and probably unhearing. The doctor said he couldn't hear us as yet, due to the anaesthetic still in his system. I just sat there next to him, not having the words to express how I feel. But I agree with his mom on the last bit, because if this is what his life is going to be like, I don't think there's any money or power worth this.

Tears continue falling down my cheeks as I pray to God to bring him back to us sooner rather than later. Two weeks is a long time to go without hearing his voice. I survived the past month only because I could hear it. I need him back, to call me and ask about my day, to say I love you three times in the space of a minute.

Eventually, his mother and I left the room so we could allow the others time with him. I say goodbye to Lolo, Tuelo and their mother, thankful the father and oldest sister went inside next, meaning I wouldn't have to deal with them.

"You're welcome to visit him anytime okay?" his mom says and I nod, smiling at her appreciatively.

"I will, thank you ma," I say and walk into her embrace. I head outside to my car and just sit behind the steering wheel, not ready to drive home yet.

_____

Everyday after the first, I take my car and drive to the hospital.

Everyday since then, Thabo is unresponsive.

Everyday because of that, I lose a part of myself.

It's day seven today of me going, and I'm not even enthusiastic. The only thing about my visits that keep me sane is the steady beat of the heart monitor because otherwise, I would have lost all hope.

Today, I feel ready to tell Thabo everything because I've been quiet this whole time. Going into his room just to stare, pray and then chill until the hour was over. But today? This man will hear about my feelings, whether he actually hears me or not will be determined by nature.

Like always, he's in a vegetative state. Even though I've seen this sight for seven days straight, I am not used to it. I sit down on the chair beside his bed and collect my thoughts.

"I think you've dragged this long enough," I start. I don't know why, but I'm mad. "The forever you promised me seems nowhere in sight, and I remember you saying you're promise keeper," I continue, fighting angry tears to stay at bay. "You better wake up Ntlatleng, because I'm sick and tired of coming here everyday, hoping for a better outcome only to find you the same. Do you know what that does to me huh?" I ask, though I know he won't respond. "You better pray to God that you're able to hear me right now. You need to come back because this life thing without you? I won't do it wang kutlwa? You need to fight to come back to us because there are people who care and love you and I'm one of them. Tsoga rato laka, come back to me dammit!" I say the last part as those tears finally escape me.

And then the bargaining starts.

"The five kids you wanted? I'll give you Thabo, but you need to wake up! That ring you bought Lord knows when? I'll wear it. I'll move into your house tomorrow, I just need you to wake up, please," I beg him, already at my wits end.

Fifteen minutes pass with no response. I was expecting a movie scene, where my words of despair pull him out of his deep sleep, but no such luck. Not even a flinch of a finger, which has me spiralling further into the dark hole his shooting put me in.

"My love please," I say. There's more on my tongue that I want to say, but I have no energy to say them. I feel defeated at this point and it seems the only thing left for me to do is wait and be patient.

I rest my head on the bed, next to where I'm holding his hand. I'll spend the rest of this hour just basking in his silent, whirring pipes presence until it's up. I try to find comfort in the fact that the doctors are hopeful that he will wake up, pictures of when he's up and alive filtering my mind and bringing in some peace with it.

I'm so out of sorts, way in my head that when he stirs, it doesn't register to mind until after a few seconds. And then my head shoots up and our eyes meet.

"My love," I say, more like gasp out of shock. I feel elated, the hope I had walked in here with restored. "You came back," I sigh out, standing up so I could come closer to his face.

His face. He looks at me with confusion, like he doesn't understand what's going on, who I am. Then the doctor's words from the day of the incident ring out in my mind. And I know, I just know it's true for him.

"Who are you?"