Zodwa stretches it toward Ruth but she’s nowhere near deep enough. She can hear Ruth’s breath against the surface of the water. Zodwa steps in deeper and fights against the rising panic as the water now slips over her waist. It doesn’t matter that she can’t swim. She doesn’t need to. As long as she can stand, the water can’t hurt her.

“Madam Ruth?” Zodwa takes another step and then another until the water laps at her breasts. She’s now in grabbing distance of Ruth and is about to stretch her arm out once more when Ruth sinks below the surface again. One minute she’s there and the next, she’s gone.

A bubble suddenly rises up and Zodwa lunges for it, losing her footing in the process. And then she’s under the surface too, water rushing into her screaming mouth. The world turns black and there is no above or below, nothing except liquid in Zodwa’s mouth and ears and eyes. She screams again and swallows water, which she immediately tries to cough back out. That’s when her feet connect with the bottom of the dam and Zodwa knows to push down with all her might while reaching up, up, up.

When she breaks the surface, she’s coughing and spluttering but blessed air rushes back into her lungs. Ruth is floating facedown right next to her and Zodwa reaches out, grabbing her blouse and yanking Ruth toward her.

Zodwa’s first reaction is one of overwhelming relief as she pulls Ruth to safety. Her second is blazing fury. This is who Leleti entrusted Mandla’s care to? An alcoholic who’s so pampered and spoiled by life that the mere delivery of divorce papers is enough to make her act deranged. A woman who binge drinks and almost drowns herself. This is who Leleti thought would be a better caregiver for her grandson than her own daughter?

I don’t think so.

It’s the same thought that plays in a loop in Zodwa’s mind long after she’s dragged an incoherent Ruth inside, bathed her to warm her up, and then put her to bed. It’s the same thought that plays over and over as she lifts Mandla from his crib and takes him back to her cottage with her, putting him in her bed even as she wonders if she should rather be strapping him to her back and running.

CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

Ruth

11 October 1995

Verdriet, Magaliesburg, South Africa

The curtains are open and light streams in with a vengeance, boring through my retinas straight into my skull. No matter how shitty life gets, you can always count on the sun to shine like a heartless bitch.

I’m just reaching for the glass of water on the nightstand when I remember Mandla.