Chapter 19

Luyanda’s hopes for another meeting with Keita were soon dashed when Keita informed him that he had to leave town the next day for a week-long trip. They would only be able to resume their sessions upon Keita’s return. Without their training sessions to distract him, Luyanda found himself thinking more and more about his family background: where did he really come from? How did he end up so far away from where his ancestors were originally from? Were any of his relatives still alive? If they were, where were they?

Nomsa noticed his absent-mindedness before Jabu did.

“What’s troubling you?” she asked, as they made the way to their Urban Studies lecture. “You’ve been in the clouds for the past couple of days. Who’s the girl? Name her.”

“No, it’s nothing like that.”

“Then what is it?” Nomsa insisted.

Luyanda hesitated, but Nomsa’s concerned look made him feel comfortable enough to open up. He told her all about his quest to find out more about his birth parents, starting with his trip to Rochester before school started, and culminating with the dead-end he met when Selina demanded money in exchange for information.

Nomsa folded her hands and frowned.  “I don’t understand why you can’t just ask your parents.”

“What? Are you crazy? That’s a no-go zone. Trust me.”

“But have you ever tried?”

“I did once,” he answered, knitting his brow. “When I was ten or eleven years old, people made fun of me at school because I was adopted. It was pretty obvious because my parents were white. So I asked my folks about it then, but they didn’t want to discuss it all. They said that I should wait until I was a little older. But the look on their faces made me feel so horrible inside that I just left it. I felt like I was being ungrateful or letting them down or something.  They’ve done a lot for me. The last thing I want to do is cause them any grief.”

Nomsa went silent for a second. “I don’t know,” she said finally. “You’re a grown up now. And I think you’ve got a right to know. Your parents have no right to keep that away from you.”

Luyanda didn’t reply. He knew that she was correct. He did have the right to know about his birth parents. But then again—

“What if they don’t know?” he asked.

“That’s unlikely,” Nomsa answered. “Otherwise they wouldn’t have reacted the way they did when you asked. It was almost as if they were trying to shield you from something.”

“Yeah,” Luyanda conceded. “Could be.”

“You’ll never know until you ask. That’s much better than going behind their backs and trying to find out stuff for yourself and sneaking around Rochester. Ask them, but just make sure you do it maturely. You’ve got to remember that it’s probably hard for them, too. They’ll feel like they’re losing you. I’ve heard that that’s every parent’s worst fear.”

Luyanda’s insides knotted at the thought of having “the talk” with his parents. It was not going to be easy at all.

“Okay,” he groaned. “I’ll ask them.”

Luyanda could barely sleep that night. After a long time tossing and turning, he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. He needed to formulate a strategy to have “the talk” with his parents in a mature way, as Nomsa had suggested. He couldn’t just walk up to them and ask them directly.  First, he was going to have to butter them up. That would make things much easier. Yes, that was the plan. He smiled to himself as he visualised exactly what he was going to do.

The next day was a Saturday, and his parents had decided to pay Maddie’s cousins a visit. “We’ll be gone the whole day, Lu,” Maddie announced at the breakfast table. “I assume you’re going to the museum?”

“Yes,” Luyanda replied. “What time will you be back?”

“That will depend on your father.” Maddie shot Devon a sidelong glance. “You know how he gets when he starts chatting.”

“That’s not true,” Devon shot back. “You’re the chatter-box, not me. When it’s time to go, I’ll get up and leave. You know I wanted to stay home and garden today.”

“You can garden tomorrow. We haven’t visited my cousins in ages. Not since they had the baby.” She turned to Luyanda. “We’ll be back around six. In time for dinner.”

“Awesome,” Luyanda replied. “Don’t eat too much, though. I’ll have a surprise waiting for you.”

“Oh,” Devon said, looking up from his tablet. “What sort of surprise?”

“You’ll see,” Luyanda replied with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Luyanda left the house shortly after his parents. Luckily for him, it was a quiet day at the museum. Neither Jabu, Yisa nor Uru were there - a fact that struck Luyanda as odd, given that it was a Saturday. He tried calling Jabu, but he didn’t answer. He made a mental note to ask him about it on Monday. For now, he had more pressing concerns than Jabu’s whereabouts. Since it was a quiet day and there were very few visitors at the museum, Luyanda asked Amina if he could leave a little earlier. She just huffed at him, which Luyanda took for a “Yes.” He grabbed his backpack, and decided to travel home through the shadows rather than using a bus. It was quicker and cheaper.

Once he got home, he set to work. With Marjorie’s help, he turned the kitchen upside-down preparing a four course meal. For starters, he made some shrimp sautéed in a light, creamy mushroom sauce. Then he prepared a salad and spaghetti bolognaise. After that, he baked some chocolate brownies for dessert. To top it all off, he pulled out a bottle of red wine from the cellar, and set the fancy cutlery that they used only on special occasions on the table. By six p.m. everything was ready. He was exhausted. He gave Marjorie a grateful pat on her battery pack, and put her in her docking station to recharge.

In a few minutes, he heard the doors of the garage rolling open, and his parents’ hovercar backing in. They stepped into the kitchen and froze in their tracks.

“Voila!” Luyanda said with a flourish. “Monsieur and madame, dinner is served.”

“Oh, wow!” Maddie gushed, taking in the spread on the dinner table. “What’s got into you?”

“Who are you and what have you done with our son?” Devon asked, reaching for a shrimp and popping it into his mouth. “Actually,” he added, popping a second one into his mouth, “I don’t care what you did with the boy. If this is how well you cook, you can stay.”

Luyanda giggled.

“You want something, don’t you?” Maddie asked, fixing a beady eye on him.

“Not at all. I just wanted to prepare dinner for the best parents in the world.”

Maddie cooed, and pulled Luyanda in for a hug. Devon had already sat down at table and was heaping more shrimp onto his plate.

“Speaking of which,” Devon said in between mouthfuls, “you realise our twentieth anniversary is coming up, right?”

“Right,” Maddie answered. “I’m quite surprised you remembered.”

“Oh, come off it. I always remember.”

“Under duress,” Maddie quipped.

“You know I’ve actually entered a draw to win an all-expenses paid cruise? And it’s going to be on our anniversary night.” Devon beamed proudly.

“What? You’re kidding!” Maddie exclaimed. “That’s fantastic.”

“Don’t celebrate yet,” Devon cautioned. “We have to keep our fingers crossed that we win.”

They spent the rest of the evening imagining what the trip would be like, and thinking of other places they could go in case the cruise fell through. Luyanda played the waiter. He collected their plates and topped up their glasses every so often. After an hour had elapsed, Devon gave a loud yawn and Maddie rubbed her eyes sleepily.

“Anyone for any more brownies?” Luyanda asked, holding up the plate.

“We haven’t even gotten through half,” Maddie said.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll finish them by tomorrow,” Devon said with a sleepy smile. “Or have you finally stopped those midnight raids of yours?”

Maddie slapped him playfully on the shoulder. Luyanda cracked a grin, then frowned again, the weight of the task ahead weighing down on him. He cleared his throat. “Guys,” he started, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Aha!” Devon perked up in his chair,” I knew this was going somewhere. Didn’t I tell you? There’s no such thing as a free lunch! Or dinner, for that matter.”

“What is it, dear?”  Maddie asked.

Luyanda took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He cleared his throat officiously and began.

“I am now nineteen years old. Now I am not claiming to be a man or anything like that, but I think I do have the right to know about my real parents. I mean my birth parents,” he added quickly, instantly regretting his choice of words as soon as they left his lips. Maddie’s face hardened. Devon folded his arms and stared at his feet.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that. You know what I meant. I meant my biological parents.”

“Why now?” Devon asked again.

“Huh?”

“Why do you want to know now?” Devon repeated.

“I dunno… I guess…Why not?”

Devon and Maddie exchanged a look.

“Now’s as good a time as any. I mean, put yourself in my shoes,” Luyanda replied. “Wouldn’t you want to know who your birth parents were?”

Maddie bit her lip and looked away. Devon cleared his throat.

“You’re right,” he said. “You do have a right to know, but we can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“Because we don’t know, dear,” Maddie answered.

Luyanda’s heart fell to the pit of his stomach.

“You…you… don’t need to protect me,” he stammered. “It’s not like I’m going to leave you or anything.”

“We’re telling you the truth,” Devon replied. “We don’t know much about your biological parents.”

“What do you know?”

Devon groaned.

“Leave it, Luyanda,” Maddie cautioned.  “You don’t want to go down that road.”

“Why not?”

“We are trying to protect you,” Devon said. “Can’t you see that?”

“Protect me from what?”

“From getting hurt,” Maddie said. “There are some things that are better left alone.”

Luyanda shot to his feet. “You can’t decide that for me,” he argued. “I have a right to know!”

“Luyanda, please. Just —”

“No, I’ve had enough of this! You guys say that I am your child and that you love me, then you keep such things away from me?” Luyanda felt his heart beating faster. This was not the way he had wanted things to pan out. He was losing his cool.

“Sit down, Lu,” Devon said. “There’s no need for that tone of -”

“I have a right to know. You guys have no clue what it’s like!”

“What what’s like?” Maddie asked.

“What it’s like never knowing. Sometimes I feel like you guys just used me to fill a gap because you couldn’t have kids of your own, but you don’t really care how that affects me, do you?”

The temperature in the room dropped by a couple of degrees. Maddie stood up, hurled her napkin on the table and strode out of the kitchen. They heard her feet tramping up the stairs and her bedroom door banging shut. Luyanda knew he had gone too far.

“I think you owe your mother an apology.”

“She’s not my mother,” Luyanda said, regretting the words even as he spoke them, but justifying himself in his anger.

Devon’s face darkened ominously. He stood up, cleared his throat, and stalked out the dining room. Luyanda collapsed onto his chair, and buried his face in his hands. Marjorie beeped from her charging station.

“One hundred percent charged. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Oh go to hell,” he snarled, and tossed his napkin at her. He went straight to his room, slammed the door shut, and threw himself onto his bed.

Sleep evaded him. Too many angry thoughts were whirling through his head. Suddenly his pad vibrated and Msiza piped up.

“Keita is on the line.”

“I don’t want to speak to him.”

“Are you sure? He says it’s urgent.”

“Okay,” Luyanda groaned. He rolled out of bed as Keita’s face popped up before him, the careworn wrinkles criss-crossing his forehead looking deeper than they were before.

“Keita. How was your trip?”

“I need to meet you urgently.”

“Why? What’s up?”

“I can’t get into it over the phone.  Can we meet tomorrow morning?”

“Okay,” Luyanda replied.

Keita ended the call without another word.  Luyanda turned back to bed, and wondered what this was all about.  He was surprised at how calm he felt, and realised it was because he had something else to focus on and get his mind off the blow-up he had just had with his parents. He focused his thoughts on the next day’s meeting with Keita, and drifted off into a troubled, shallow sleep.

The following morning he showed up bright and early in Keita’s office.  He opened the door to find Keita pacing up and down nervously.  A cardboard box stood on his desk.

“So how was your trip?” Luyanda asked, as he settled down in the seat next to the box.

“Who else knows that this stool is here?” Keita asked.

“No one.”

“Are you a hundred percent sure?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Because,” Keita answered, taking a seat, “that stool is a very dangerous artefact.”

“What makes it so dangerous?” Luyanda asked. “What did you find out on your research trip?”

Keita eyed him sullenly.

“You’d rather not say?”

Keita nodded.

“For my own safety?”

He nodded again.

“Safety from whom?”

“Let’s just say that there have been people who have killed for stools such as these.”

“Like the stranger in the dream?”

“Not dream, Shadow Realm. Ever heard of the Golden Stool of the Ashanti?”

“Yeah. Sort of. It’s been lost for a long time now.”

“Yes, thank goodness for that.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because there are certain artefacts which are better left lost. Like the golden stool, and this one of ours.” He nodded towards the box on the table. “These are the totems of kingship, bestowing the power of dominion.”

“What’s that?”

“The power to build and rule empires. The power to command armies that can never be defeated, and the power to enslave entire nations, if one so wishes.”

“Oh, come on,” Luyanda guffawed. “That’s farfetched.”

“So is becoming a shadow.”

Luyanda fell silent. He stared at the box.

“We need to destroy the stool,” Keita continued.

“How?”

“I don’t know. I’ve tried everything I can think of.”

“You mean you’ve tried to destroy it already?”

“Yes. I’ve tried to smash it, to grind it, to break it apart. It won’t even chip.” Luyanda eyed the cardboard box. Keita lifted it off the table, revealing the stool. It stood there, innocuous, covered in dents and scratches.

“Obviously I didn’t do that,” Keita said, running a finger over one of the scores on the stool’s surface. “I wish I could find out who did, and how they did it. They look like some kind of hieroglyphics.”

“My father… I mean his father,” Luyanda corrected himself, “said it was the writing of his people…of Magere’s people.”

Keita scowled, deep in thought.

“Maybe we need to go back,” Luyanda suggested, “and find out everything that we can about it.”

Keita narrowed his eyes.

“Are you sure you want to risk it?” he asked.

“What choice do we have?”

“I don’t know yet. That’s the next thing I have to try and find out. But for now, I will keep it out of sight and you, sir, must make sure that you never, ever mention it to anyone at all.”

Luyanda nodded.  A sudden thought flashed through his head.

“Where did you go? On your trip, I mean.”

“To Nubia. All the texts about the stool were in Ancient Nubian. So I decided to visit an old friend there.”

“And he told you it’s dangerous?”

“That is correct.”

“So does this mean the training is over?”

“It was over long ago. There was only so much I could teach you from the manuscripts. All we were doing was making research trips into the Shadow Realm.”

“So that’s it? You and I are done?”

“Yes,” Keita replied.

A cold ache spread across Luyanda’s tummy.

“So you mean I’m stuck like this forever?”

“Don’t look so sad,” Keita replied cheerily. “We will find a way to sort you out. It will just take a bit longer than we expected. We have to be really careful now, that’s all. And that’s going to slow us down a bit. Okay? For now, just don’t tell anyone at all about this stool. Not even your best friends.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Luyanda’s head sunk to his chest. He slowly rose to his feet, trudged out the door and plodded down the passage. All the previous night’s excitement had been for nothing. Now he felt as if he had not one but two burdens on his shoulders.  As he wound his way to his first lecture of the day - African Philosophy with Dean Musa, a sense of loneliness weighed down on him. Keita had no clue how to sort out his problem. Luyanda was well and truly on his own.