Someone tugs at Zodwa’s jersey as they wail, but she tunes it out, focusing all of her attention on the boy. She’s praying now—praying harder than she ever has.

Please, God. Please, God. Please, God.

She whacks the boy’s back once more.

Don’t die. Don’t die. Don’t die. Not now when I’ve finally found you.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

Ruth

24 June 1995

Verdriet, Magaliesburg, South Africa

I’m in the kitchen when Dee yells out and I look up to see a black girl running at Mandla. I freeze, confused as to what’s happening, and then I see Mandla’s face. He isn’t breathing and his eyes bulge obscenely.

“Do something!” I scream at Dee. I’m rooted to the spot with my hands over my mouth, but the girl has reached him and as she picks him up, Jez lunges and bites her.

I’m expecting the girl to cry out in pain and drop Mandla, but she doesn’t make a sound. She’s so focused on my boy as she bends him over and starts hitting him on the back that the bite doesn’t even seem to register. I wonder, madly, if she’s an angel.

Riaan comes running through from the patio just then and Jez is still barking like crazy. Dee shushes her, getting her away from the girl.

Please, God. Please, God. Please, God.

Nothing happens. Mandla is still not breathing. And that’s when I bolt toward them. I grab the girl’s jersey, babbling at her incoherently, pleading with her to help him.

Still she smacks his back and I’m about to tear him out of her arms when something dislodges from his throat. It looks like a piece of droëwors, but no sooner is it out on the floor than Jez snatches it up in one gulp.

It’s quiet for a moment, too quiet, and then Mandla takes a shuddering breath.

He’s breathing. My boy is breathing.

“Jesus. You saved his life. You saved my boy’s life. He’s okay. Oh, thank God, he’s okay.”

I’m crying and Dee’s crying and the girl is crying as I grab my boy, pulling him from her hands and planting kisses all over his face. He’s screaming and I should probably give him space to breathe, but I’d graft him to my skin right now if that was possible.

I have never been that scared in all my life. I thought I was going to lose him. I thought that was it. And Jesus, wouldn’t that have been the sickest joke the universe could ever have played? An HIV-positive baby dying from choking. It’s such a crazy thing that I burst out laughing and everyone looks at me as if I’ve gone mad, which I have. I’m mad with relief.

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