Page 110 - The Mending Season

“Is her mother going to the school to talk to the teachers?” my aunt asked.“The mother called the school and spoke to the principal.” She stopped and shook her head at the notebook. “I have their story, I just need to hear yours.”“We were at netball practice,” I started. I told my story slowly, not feeling uneasy at all. I did not have to hope that she would believe me, as I had to when I told the teachers and the principal. I did not have to worry about my English accent. This time my voice was steady and slow. For the first time, I wanted to tell everything - not because my aunts had told me to or because my classmates had asked me to. I could still see Veronica packing her bags, sobbing.Beth had obviously told her parents a different version. Maybe she had said that we did not hear right, that she had uttered something different and Veronica thought she heard something else.Tihelo asked me what the teachers’ reactions had been. She asked for details that I had never thought of as significant, like, “Did the teachers ask Veronica to tell her story in front ofthe class? Did the principal have you in her office with the two girls?” I answered without hesitating as the tape rolled and Tihelo scribbled in her notebook.When I had finished recounting it all, Tihelo pressed a but­ ton, stopped the tape recording, and we were all silent for a moment. Tihelo smiled up at me and said, “I like to write and record at the same time. Its a habit from a time when tapes could be confiscated.” She and Mmamane Mabatho looked at each other knowingly. I knew that Tihelo had been a comrade and that Mmamane Mabatho had been involved in riots at the same time.I asked if - as it was Friday - the story would be in the paper on Monday. Tihelo put everything on the table in front of her and replied, “Definitely. That’s what were aiming for.”110