Mkhulu clutches the suitcase in a deathgrip, taking the millionth breath as we stand right at the doorstep of the yellow three storey house, waiting.

I don't exactly know what for because he didn't actually knock on the door and when I attempted to knock for him, he glared at me.

He takes a breath again and if I hadn't gotten the explanation back in the car moments ago I would have thought he was visiting a girlfriend.

Mkhulu glances at me, like he's noticing me for the first time since we walked up here.

"Let's take a breather."

The smile on my face is automatic, relief flooding my heart.

Sometimes when Mkhulu and I are mad at each other, suddenly there's so many jokes or memes we wanna share with each other; or sometimes it just so happens to be movie night and we're still mad but we also want to talk.

So Mkhulu and I created something called a breather. It means that I'm still mad at you but I also need to talk to you right now, so I'm putting my anger aside but I will come back to it when you least expect it.

"Thank you. Mkhulu you do know that the people on the other side of the door can't sense that we're outside. We actually have to knock."

Mkhulu sucks his teeth, annoyed but there's a small curve of his lips. "Nine years is a long time."

"It is."

" A lot can happen in that time frame, you know."

Like Gogo dying.

I nod, " Maybe you should take-"

The front door is pulled open and the woman who I saw from before almost walks into us. Her brown eyes widen and a half gasp, half scream escapes her lips once she notices that two people are outside of her door.

Mkhulu and I share a look.

The woman's shock is somehow still not done once her eyes take in my grandfather. Her eyes brim with tears.

"Luyolo!"

She pulls my grandfather in for a hug and his nervousness is immediately gone as he smiles back at her and they share pleasantries.

The wrinkles by her eyes are gentle as she smiles, a familiar curve to her lips.When her eyes meet mine she takes me in like every older woman does, with that motherly gaze.

"You look just like him when he was a teenager. The spitting image!"

Mkhulu laughs, " It's like looking at a mirror that reminds you how old you're getting."

We all laugh, her warmth contagious.

"I'm Bina, Bokamoso." She reaches for a hug.

"Nice to meet you mam."

"Please, call me Bina."

"-Still denying that you're getting old at this age," Mkhulu cuts in, a teasing lilt to his voice.

"Not denying anything. I just don't think that growing old means losing your name. When was the last time someone called you by your name? Anyway Never mind that, please come in."

She steps aside, pulling the door open and the warmth and scent of the house wafts past me. We're by the hallway, the floors are a deep rich wood with a golden light chandelier hanging by the ceiling.

The polished floors lead to a staircase. Mrs Bina is already walking up, beckoning us to follow her.

"Bina!!" A deep voice calls, making the woman giggle like a girl.

We're walking down the hallway of the second storey and the man's voice is clearer, the house has another chandelier hung up this hallway illuminating that same golden light.

"Bina, I can't choose which tie to pick. Luyolo will be here any second!"

Mkhulu's the one who laughs, this time and there's that tenderness to his voice.

Before we can walk any further down the hallway, a distressed old man dressed in pajamas steps out of one of the rooms, with his arms stretched out.

On his stretched out arms hangs countless ties of a million colours.

He's so distressed that he hasn't noticed people are right in front of him until Bina clears her throat.

"Ahem, we have visitors. Alex." She gestures towards Mkhulu and I.

He freezes, his eyes flicking from me to Mkhulu, then me again, then Mkhulu.

I can't help but laugh at the sight and Bina laughs along with me. Mkhulu is laughing too but it's softer.

"You old man." Mkhulu teases, leaving the grey suitcase by me as he makes his way to his friend, his black cane clangs ahead of him at a fast pace.

"You old man," the peculiar stranger repeats, a smile adorned on his grey bearded face. He lets all the ties that hung from his arms fall to the ground.

The two make their way towards each other, the hallway suddenly longer but they both have the biggest smiles on their faces.

Alex's eyes glisten with tears and soon he meets Mkhulu half way and they both engulf each other in a warm bro hug.

They pat each other's backs and when they pull away gruff laughter escapes their lips. It's loud and it's full and it's nostalgic and it's so close to a cry.

Bina and I just watch this exchange a few feet away, my eyes snap to hers when I hear her sniffling. She wipes the tears in her eyes, delicately, not letting that mess with her makeup.

"Nine years," Alex mutters.

"Nine years." Mkhulu repeats.

"How was Tanzania? England? Zambia? Tell me everything!" Mkhulu's excitement makes Alex laugh.

"I'll tell you all that later.How's South Africa?"

"It's very South," Mkhulu mutters and I can tell he's about to go into his whole political rant about the state of the country and the corruption but he stops himself.

"It's still standing."

"What more could we ask for?" Alex replies, then his eyes flick to me.

"Luyolo, I didn't know that while I was gone you decided to make a clone of yourself..." he doesn't even let Mkhulu answer as he makes his way towards him.

He stands right in front of me, openly gawking at me and I awkwardly laugh, stretching out my hand, " I'm Leonardo. Nice to meet you sir."

He shakes my hand firmly, then he pulls me into a hug. " Please, call me Alex."

It's weird, meeting old people who want you to call them by their names.

Then when you get too used to it, they'll call you disrespectful.

"You were this short when I was here in South Africa," he gestures the height below his knees.

I laugh.

"I'm sure your little friend will be happy to see you too. It's been years since you've seen her."

My brows furrow, the confusion settling over me, annoying.

I'm so tired of everything in my life right now confusing me.

Pretty soon, I'll be a confusion myself.

Alex takes in my expression.

"You don't remember me?"

"No sir, I don't."

Alex's eyes widen, he steps back like he's been shot, holding his hand to his heart.

" This is heartbreaking to hear, especially knowing that I thought of you every second of my day for the last nine years."

Everyone laughs.

"Please, Alex can't even remember what he last ate for Breakfast," Bina cuts in, smiling fondly.

"So his memory is the same as when we were teenagers." Mkhulu adds, walking up to us.

"I remember that I love you," Alex flirts with his wife and she rolls her eyes.

Alex eye's flick behind me, searching.

"Where on earth is Sophie Luyolo? We both know you can't even leave the toilet without her."

Soft laughter escapes Bina's lips, but it's soon cut short when she realizes she's the only one laughing.

The atmosphere is tense, Mkhulu's dark eyes meet mine, the air suddenly heavy.

Alex's brows are furrowed, he holds Mkhulu's distraught face.

"My grandmother," I speak up, clearing my throat, " died six years ago..."

Bina gasps,her hands flying to her mouth.

Mkhulu's chest heaves, relieved that I've shared the bad news. Alex and Bina's face both crumble, their eyes mirroring deep shock.

"How?"

Mkhulu shakes his head, " No, we'll talk about that later. For now can we just focus on this little reunion."

"...ok," Alex says, still deeply shaken.

"I'll go prepare the lunch," Bina utters weakly, she leaves before anyone can get a say and we all hear the soft sounds of her cries.

She leaves the air even more tense.

"Well," Alex clasps his hands really loudly getting both our attention.

"Since you're here you can help me choose which tie to wear."

Mkhulu nods, a small smile curving up his lips. This time I breathe a sigh of relief.

Mkhulu needs this. He needs for at least a moment, not to think or reminisce about the pain in his life. The pain that's always staring at his face, trailing after him and reminding him everyday of what he's lost.

Mkhulu and Alex both start talking as the two walk down the hallway completely oblivious to me. They laugh and crack jokes, trying to catch up with each other.

I smile, trailing after them while holding the grey suitcase Mkhulu left behind. I want to see what's inside.

We step into the room and it's a luxury of silk and linen, the colours of white and sky blue splattered around the room in the furniture. It has Bina's taste written all over it.

There's a mess of more ties on the bed and this makes me laugh. " How many times do you have?"

Alex's eyes flick to mine, smiling. "You can never have too many ties, young man."

"Yes. You can."Mkhulu cuts in, holding up a number of the ties, amusement dancing in his dark eyes.

Alex ignores him, staring at me in that way old people stare at you when they think they're about to give you life changing advice.

"This is why Bina married me. A man with a tie is a man with a life."

Laughter escapes my lips, and soon everyone in the room is laughing. I can't put my finger on it but Alex reminds me of someone.

"Aren't you wondering what's in the suitcase?" Mkhulu asks, raising his brow.

Alex looks down at the suitcase I hold as if noticing it for the very first time. He looks back at Mkhulu.

"What?"

"Guess," Mkhulu's dark eyes gleam, a smile curving up his lips.

Alex's brows are furrowed for a while, then he gasps, looking back at the suitcase then back at Mkhulu.

"It can't be!"

"It is," Mkhulu answers.

I'm so lost, even the dictionary can't find me.

"Well what are we waiting for? Let's open it!"

Alex moves the ties off the bed, throwing them onto the polished floor, something I know his wife won't be too happy about.

I bring the suitcase forward and it's placed on top of the bed. Mkhulu pulls the zip of the suitcase open extremely slowly and the suspense has me at the edge of my seat....

When he opens up the suitcase completely, the rising feeling the suspense gave me bubbles into something disappointing.

It's a bunch of old knitted sweaters.

Alex on the other hand looks like he's seconds away from pulling off his grey beard because of the excitement he feels.

"You kept them!"

"Of course I kept them," Mkhulu's eyes gleam with that warmth.

Mkhulu and him both start laughing like they uttered a silent joke shared between only the two of them.

I'm looking at the suitcase clearly but all I see are knitted sweaters. And they look very, very old.

Very.

Mkhulu lifts the first sweater from the suitcase, it's a deep red colour and the design is horrendous but that's not the worst part.

The worst part is the big splotchy yellow stain in the middle.

Once again, I seem not to be getting the point of all of this because once Alex sees the stain, he gasps in amazement.

"What is going on?" I finally speak up.

The two old men look at me, their eyes gleaming.

"Alex's mother," Mkhulu begins, chuckling through his words, "used to knit him the ugliest sweaters."

"They're not that bad-" Alex cuts in.

Mkhulu simply holds up the red sweater.

"He's right, they're terrible." I agree with Mkhulu.

"I can see why he's your grandson."

"Anyway, so Alex would pretend to wear them but everytime he stepped out of the house, he would put it back in his bag..."

"Or," Alex cuts in, "throw it somewhere in a bin and make up a story about how some boys bullied me into giving it to them."

We all laugh.

"But there was this day, I heard my mother talking about how much the sweaters meant to her. I heard her crying to my father about those boys who would steal my sweaters and she said it was like they were stealing a piece of her love for her..."

"In short you felt guilty."

"The guiltiest."

" A criminal." Mkhulu adds, making us laugh.

"So I decided to start wearing the sweaters and people laughed and teased me including your grandfather here," he gestures to Mkhulu.

Mkhulu holds no shame in his expression.

"But those days I wore the sweaters were one of the most eventful days of my life. Very adventurous, each one of the sweaters have a story."

"What do you mean eventful?"

"You know those days, where it feels like nothing happens. Well wearing these sweaters it was like everything happened on those days."

"The red one," Mkhulu throws it to me, and I catch it swiftly. The yellow stain is old and crusty and has melded into the material of the sweater.

"That was the day I met Bina, my wife."

"You were dressed in this?!" The question makes both of the men laugh.

"He also had the biggest eye bags from staying up all cramming for an exam he still ended up failing."

"In short, I looked like a mess."

"How did she like you?"

Alex smiles," who said she liked me? Luyolo, your Grandfather, thought that I was scared of girls."

"-Because you were."

"I just kept my distance from them," he defends himself.

" He told me to prove I wasn't scared of a girl by approaching a beautiful girl we saw at the park, in this ugly red sweater."

"And did you?"

"He stalked her first." Mkhulu chuckles.

"Who's telling the story Luyolo? Me or you."

"Fine but don't skip the embarrassing parts."

I laugh.

"Fine. When I finally got the courage to approach her she was leaving."

"-So instead of calling out to her," Mkhulu cuts in again, a teasing smile on his face. " -like any normal guy would do. He followed her."

Alex's face is flushed, he covers his face with his hands, he says words but they're muffled through his hands.

Mkhulu and I laugh.

Alex groans, he lifts his head, his face still flushed. " It's more than thirty years and that still gets to me."

"It should." Mkhulu continues to tease.

"You're not innocent in this Luyolo. You and Njabulo followed me, following her."

"Only because we wanted to see what would happen."

"She was going to the library," Alex continues, " so we stepped into the library and we all pretended to be reading. You're Grandfather kept pressuring me to stop being scared and just go say hi since we followed her all the way..."

"Instead," Mkhulu cuts in again, earning a glare from Alex , "he went and made a crude comment which led to Bina, throwing mustard on his sweater..."

Alex covers his face with his hands again. "I freaked out. That led to her hating me for months."

"How did she jump to love?"

"She realized he was an idiot." Mkhulu cuts in.

Alex laughs. " An idiot for her. She realized I was an idiot for her and only her."

We all laugh.

"Why didn't you wash your sweaters?" I ask, curious.

"I don't know, after that. I didn't ever want to look at that red thing again so I told Luyolo to keep it because it would make me remember the most embarrassing moment of my life."

Alex looks into the suitcase and then he pulls out a blue sweater that's torn almost into pieces, looking like a bear ravaged it.

We all laugh at the sight of the sweater, them more than me.

"This was when I was chased by those dogs..." Alex begins to tell the story.

Mkhulu and him both reminisce, nostalgia touching their eyes and smiles. It's like they're young again. They live through the memories as they pull out the sweaters. Mkhulu and Alex both tell me the stories, both of them interrupting each other and exposing the embarrassing parts, the other would leave out the story.

The laughter fills the room and my heart's at ease with it all, watching Mkhulu find happiness again after everything.

I also learn more about my grandfather as they unravel the stories and it's weird to see him as anything but my grandfather but he's so much more than that.

And it's like a reality check, to be reminded that Luyolo July is his own person, not just my grandfather.

Although they share, talk and reminisce I notice them pausing, halting and hesitating in some sentences. They leave out the bad parts, the heartache and the pain. They leave out the parts of the stories that would make them cry...and the understanding passes between their eyes.

Alex reminds me so much of Dominique, it's in his humour and his smile and this makes my heart excited to grow up with my best friend. I want our friendship to last over the years, to be old and grey with Dominique and share stories with our grandchildren one day.

It's for later, their eyes say about the pain but right now they just want to be happy.

I want Mkhulu to stay happy. Immediately I think that thought, a verse in the bible I read a while ago comes to mind.

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭90:15‬ ‭
Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us, for as many years as we have seen trouble.

I want that for Mkhulu, for all the years of heartbreak, for all the tears, especially that has happened over this decade. I want Mkhulu to be happy for as much as he was in pain.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

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