Chapter 36

It was a full three hours before his parents arrived. Luyanda busied himself tidying up the house and preparing dinner with Marjorie the domestibot’s help. Just as he was about to give his parents a call, he heard the familiar purring of an engine in the driveway, and the garage door rolling open. A few minutes later, the keys turned in the doorway, and Maddie stepped in. She gasped in surprise when she saw Luyanda standing there, beaming.
“Great! You’re here! We thought you’d be out for sure!” Maddie pulled Luyanda in for an extra tight hug and a kiss as Devon trudged through the door, lugging a suitcase behind him.
“Didn’t throw any parties while we were away, did you?” he asked, as gave Luyanda a roguish hug.
“No, nothing that bad.” Luyanda forced a grin. “Is there anything else in the car?”
“Yes, there’s an extra suitcase,” Devon said.
Luyanda dashed into the garage and unloaded the last suitcase from the hover. Shortly afterwards, he and his parents were talking and laughing animatedly over steak, oven baked potatoes and stir fried vegetables.
“So your mother goes up to the door and knocks and then she says, ‘I’m sorry, this is my hotel room! And the guy replies, ‘No, ma’am. This is most definitely mine.” Luyanda and Devon burst out chortling. Maddie’s cheeks turned a bright shade of pink.
“It’s your father’s fault,” she said. “He’s the one that forced me to drink that stuff.”
“I had no clue it was that strong. I thought it would be good to have a taste of some of the local brew. It didn’t have any effect on me.”
“That’s because I don’t weigh as much as a bear.”
Luyanda and Devon guffawed just as the oven went off with a loud chime.
“Dessert’s ready,” Luyanda announced. He pulled out the tray of chocolate brownies. Maddie’s eyes widened.
“Was this you or the domestibot?”
“It was me. I just followed a recipe.”
Maddie and Devon exchanged a nervous glance.
“What do you need, Lu?” Devon asked. “Out with it. The last time you cooked up a storm, you wanted something, remember?”
“Yeah, but maybe I’ve changed.” Luyanda answered. His parents just stared at him. They weren’t buying his story for one minute. His mind floated back to the tense and emotional evening when he had had a big quarrel with them. He cleared his throat.
“About that time when we fought, I don’t think I apologised for it. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone’s feelings. Especially not you, mum. I’m sorry.”
Maddie stood up, and wrapped her arms around Luyanda.
“That’s okay, dear. I forgave you a long time ago.”
Luyanda pulled away from her.
“I know. But what I did was not okay. I’ve been very ungrateful to the two of you for a long time. And I just want you two to know how much I appreciate you. When I have kids, I won’t get to choose their personality and stuff. But you guys got the chance - and you chose me - warts and all.”
“You didn’t have warts,” Devon said. “At least we didn’t know that they’d develop, when were picking you up from the orphanage.”
“Devon!”
“He’s right mum,” Luyanda protested. “I’m rebellious and headstrong and argumentative and worst of all - I’m ungrateful. I don’t know how you guys have put up with me for so long. If I were you I would have kicked me out a long time ago.”
Maddie stretched an arm across the table and took Luyanda’s hands in hers.
“Lu,” she paused, and cleared her throat. “Your father and I have been talking,” she started. “And there’s something we need to tell you.” She glanced at Devon. He simply nodded.
“We don’t know anything about your birth parents. Those were the terms of the adoption agency. But we do know your birth name. And we think it’s good that you know what it is.”
“I think I already do.”
“You what?”
“It’s Lwanda Magere.”
Devon’s brownie clunked onto his plate. Maddie’s jaw dropped.
“How on earth did you know that?”
Luyanda grinned.
“It’s a long story. And trust me, you’d rather not know.”
“Well,” Devon nodded at Maddie, “I guess that’s that then.”
“Why did you guys take so long to tell me.”
“I guess we didn’t want you to suffer and ask yourself why your parents gave you up and stuff. Life’s hard enough without having to ask yourself those questions.”
“Yeah,” Luyanda nodded, “you’re right. In fact, I’ve been doing some thinking of my own. And I’ve realised that I’ve got all the parents I need right here in front of me. I don’t think I want to know anything else about my birth parents.”
Maddie’s face lit up in a smile.
“Are you sure?” Devon asked. Luyanda nodded.
“There’s only one thing thought that I think I’d really like to do.”
“What’s that?” Maddie asked.
“If it’s okay with you guys, I’d like to change my name. I mean my name and surname.”
Maddie and Devon exchanged a glance. Luyanda could see the wheels in their heads turning, and he started to regret even asking.
“If it’s okay with your mum,” Devon said, “then it’s okay with me. I understand why you’d do it. Your name’s the only link you have to your past.”
“It’s fine with me,” Maddie said. “I just hope you won’t want us to start calling you Lwanda.”
“No, mum,” Luyanda replied with a smile. “To you I’ll always be Lu.”

Luyanda had never before felt as light as he did, as he bounded up the steps to his bedroom after dinner. He stepped into his bedroom and blinked as the lights flicked on. He barely noticed as his shadow swept across the floor, climbed onto the bed and materialised into a dark silhouette of a man. Apart from it’s flashing eyes, none of its other features was discernible.
“That went well,” Shadow said. “I told you they’d be okay with it.”
“Do you realize how weird it is for me to be speaking to a shadow?”
“I’m sure you’ve seen and done weirder stuff, right?”
Luyanda smiled. He couldn’t help but agree with Shadow on that one. From transforming into shadows, traipsing through alternate realms and facing off with a deranged sorcerer, the past few months had indeed been weird, to say the least.
“Get off my bed,” Luyanda said.
“You say that like I’m taking up space,” Shadow said as he rolled off the bed and perched on the wall, tucking in his knees underneath him. “You’ve got no respect. Back in my day, when I was Lwanda Magere, I treated my Shadow with utmost respect and dignity.”
“Did you just say back in your day? You sound just like my parents.”
“Technically I am your great-great-great-great-great —,”
“Oh, stuff it, Shadow. I just want to sleep. I’ve got a jam packed day tomorrow. I’m so behind on my schoolwork, it’s not even funny.”
“I can help you with that.”
“You want me to take advice from a dark splotch?”
“This dark splotch carried you on his back every time you melted into the shadows.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. And I owe you my life, I know. Sweet dreams.”
And with that, he turned the lights off, turned in, and slept as he hadn’t done so in a long, long time.

The next few days were a blur. Jabu didn’t remember a thing, and since he was always around them, Luyanda and Nomsa didn’t get much of a chance to discuss what had happened to the stool, a question that was uppermost on Luyanda’s mind. He saw neither hide nor hair of Keita, and his attempts to get hold of him proved fruitless. Nomsa reassured him that Keita was alright, and that he should be focusing on his upcoming exams. The museum hours became extremely flexible, because the director was now missing and there were fewer visitors than usual. Imtiaz, Gina and Emeka decided to let Luyanda back into their study group, which was both a relief and a pain in the neck for Luyanda, because they had shifted their meeting times to the early mornings.

One day, as he hovered into the university for an early group study session, his dashboard lit up with the latest news headlines.
“Msiza, read them to me please.”
“In today’s news - the UAC Knights blame their sudden loss in the university rugby cup final to the freak thunderstorm that happened during the match. Do you want to know more?”
“No,” Luyanda shook his head, smiling. He remembered Nomsa’s whirlwind on the day in question, as well as the precautions that she took to ensure that they would not get spotted. It was a pity that their rugby team suffered yet another loss as a result. “I know all about it, Msiza. Next!”
“Missing Museum Director Investigation continues. Do you want to know more?”
Luyanda sat up in his seat. “Yes, please.”
“It is now three weeks since the Museum Director, Dr. Phineas Uru, Senior Lecturer in the African history Department and Director of the Pan-African History Museum, was last seen. So far, no clues or any evidence about his disappearance have been forthcoming. Police are unwilling to speculate about anything at this point, and insist that until any further evidence comes to light, they shall continue to treat this as a simple missing person case. They have however refused to rule out foul play. University Vice Chancellor, Professor Zwane, is under increasing pressure to make some public statement about it, and is expected to make one today at the museum at around eight am.”
“Great,” Luyanda said, as he backed his hover into a parking space. He was grateful that he had arrived early and beaten the morning rush for the limited parking spots. It was a quarter to eight. He had fifteen minutes before the vice-chancellor made her statement. He grabbed his backpack, leapt out of the car and sprinted across the parking lot, through the lawns, down the square and into the History Department building. He bounded up the escalators, and in a few seconds was standing outside the entrance of the museum. A small crowd had assembled there, and the Vice Chancellor, Professor Zwane, whom Luyanda had only seen once before in his life, at orientation, was standing at a make-shift podium, speaking. She was a short, attractive woman with streaks of grey on her short-cropped hair and a commanding, no nonsense tone about her voice.
“I understand your frustration all of you - really I do - but until the police say something, I cannot say anything myself.” Luyanda noticed the History Department staff members right at the front of the crowd. Behind them were the museum staff, including Yisa and Amina. A few students were also present. Luyanda spotted Jabu and Nomsa on the far side of the crow. He waved at them. They waved back. The Vice Chancellor continued.
“Until such time as we have definite news of Dr. Uru, I have had to appoint another acting Museum Director to take his place. Therefore, until further notice, the acting museum director will be Professor Sunny Keita.” All the heads in the room turned towards the diminutive professor with the shaggy grew beard resting on top of his multi-coloured kaftan. He was frowning, and didn’t look the least bit excited about the appointment. There was an unconvincing wave of applause, which Keita was quick to put down with a dismissive wave of his hand.
“Professor Keita, is there anything you’d like to say?”
Keita stepped up to the podium and cleared his throat.
“The next weeks and months ahead of us are going to be difficult. We are going to be groping in the dark, trying to find ourselves and trying to find some sort of stability,” he added with a significant glance in Luyanda’s direction, whom he had spotted in the crowd. “Be that as it may, we will remain true to our guiding principles - to protect, promote and preserve our African Heritage for all generations to enjoy - and if I may add to that - I’d like to place a special emphasis on all - all peoples - everywhere in the world. At no one’s expense.” He bowed and stepped away from the podium. There was scattered and sparse applause. It was almost as if people didn’t quite know whether or not to clap, because they hadn’t quite understood what the Professor meant.
But Luyanda understood.
Keita stepped away from the podium, and Professor Zwane wished them all a nice day and thanked them for attending. She cut a line through the small crowd, ignoring the questions that the student journalists fired at her as she squeezed past them, and made her way out the lobby and down the escalator. In a few minutes, the crowd dispersed and Luyanda found himself standing beside Keita, Nomsa and Jabu.
“What did you make of the v.c.’s speech?” Jabu asked.
“Not very assuring from top leadership,” Nomsa answered.
“I’m not sure if I’m supposed to entertain such talk,” Keita said.
“Oh, sorry. I forgot you’re the director now.”
“Hey, now that we’re on the topic, I’ve been meaning to discuss that stipend,” Jabu piped up hopefully. “Can we get a raise?”
“Especially after all that we’ve been through for this museum,” Luyanda added.
“Yes,” Jabu agreed, “Long hours, sore backs, calloused hands. It’s tantamount to child labour.”
Luyanda raised an eyebrow. He had expected Jabu to say something about their recent adventures the day before. Adventures that had almost ended their lives. Keita caught Luyanda’s surprised look.
“Luyanda,” he said, grabbing him by the arm, “Please would you volunteer to help me clear out the previous director’s personal effects?”
“You’ll find us at the Student Centre,” Nomsa added, dragging Jabu away with her. “Don’t forget that exams are just around the corner,” she added, giving Luyanda a meaningful look.

“They’ve forgotten everything, haven’t they?” Luyanda asked, as soon as Keita had slammed the door marked “Museum Director” shut behind them.
“Naturally,” Keita answered. “Only yourself and Nomsa remember. I gave the two of you an antidote that night when first came to my apartment. Remember those glasses of gin you knocked down?”
“Yes,” Luyanda mumbled, as his thoughts drifted back to the night when Keita revealed who he was to them. “You insisted that we have some drinks to calm our nerves.”
“Because even at that stage, I suspected that I’d need to wipe their memories clean, but I would need you and Nomsa to remember because I will need people I can trust.”
“But what if we ever need the others to remember again?”
“I can bring the memories back relatively quickly. It’s a simple process.”
“Was that the powder that you sprinkled in the air when you asked Nomsa to make one last whirlwind?”
Keita nodded. “And you almost gave the whole thing away just now. Luyanda, I cannot insist enough on the importance of discretion and vigilance at this stage. Remember our conversation in the car last night?”
Luyanda nodded. He remembered it only too well. He surveyed Uru’s office. Cartons were strewn across the floor, and a thick layer of dust lay across most of the furniture. He ran his finger across the desk, leaving a stripe across the dusty tabletop.
“This is going to need more than a domestibot,” he said.
“Not even that will clear the bad memories that this place holds.
“What are you going to do with all his stuff?” Luyanda asked.
“If it were up to me, burn them,” Keita answered, “But I guess that would be foolish, because the first rule of warfare is to know your enemy.”
“So you’re really sure he’s going to return?”
“Yes. There is a brand of evil that only a long-drawn out war can defeat. And we have only witnessed the first battle.”
Luyanda’s insides churned. He glanced at his shadow stretching out on the floor, and his stomach calmed down again.
“I assume you’ve got classes to get to? Or are you looking for a reason not to attend?”
Luyanda smiled. Keita knew him too well.
“I have to go to the registration centre first.”
“Aah,” Keita grinned. “Changing your name - we’ve all gone through that,” he added, a dreamy look on his face.
“What? You changed your name too?”
“Just as you met Lwanda Magere, I too met an old ancestor of mine. Sundiata Keita. But that’s a story for another day.”
“I’ve got time now,” Luyanda said, hopefully.
Keita only grinned. Luyanda knew that he was pushing his luck.
“In other news, I reversed Bimba’s decision about your exam entry.”
“Does that mean that I can sit your exam?”
“Yes. I hope you won’t disappoint me?”
Luyanda beamed.
“No I won’t, Professor. You can be sure of that.”

He closed Keita’s door gently behind him, and made his way out to museum and down the escalator. His eyes flitted across the lobby, seeking out Jabu and Nomsa.
“Hey!” Nomsa called out, waving. They were seated at the far end of the lobby, their tablets lying open before them. Luyanda made a beeline for them.
“Are the others coming?” he asked, setting his backpack down and sitting beside them.
“They said they’re running late,” Nomsa answered. “I don’t know how we are going to manage to get through all this in so little time.”
“As Luyanda’s dad always says-,”
“Lwanda,” Luyanda cut Jabu off.
“Eh? What’s that?”
“Lwanda, not Luyanda. My name’s Lwanda.”
“Dude, that’s so weird. What brought this on?”
Lwanda smiled.
So did Nomsa.

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