Jaz & Miguel (30 page)

Miguel gave a nervous laugh, and turned to look at the horizon, the
wind ruffling his hair. "Yeah, my email. It's funny, you know. There's a
reason I never ... gave you my email address, and it's not because you hate
email."

An uncomfortable feeling rubbed Jaz's chest, like the sickeningly
blunt knife of an ugly truth.

He never loved her. She knew this is what he was about to tell her.

Well, so what? She'd suffered worse.

"Yeah—um—you'll think it's kind of ... stupid," he
continued.

"Christ, would you just spit it out already! I mean, it's
fine
Miguel, I can handle it." She forced out a smile.

"Remember our first 'official' date?"

"Yeah, you asked me about ... fate." Why had she said
that
of all things?

"Right—funny that that's what sticks in your mind." He
shook his head and turned to her, throwing the wistfulness away and focusing on
what needed to be said. "Well, I always thought that, because of my email
address, well, maybe it had been a
sign
... you know … that you and I—"

Jaz's heart felt like the stampeding feet of a thousand cattle running
from a fire in the veld.

"Well, remember Sandile and I both liked Melody Gardot and
Norah Jones, and then that CD with
Best of Jazz
?"

Damn it, would he get to the fucking point already!
"Yeah, I remember it."

"Well, you see, we really did—I mean I really
do
love that music—at least the Norah Jones kind."

The pieces were falling into place for her. It wasn't that he never
loved her ....

"It's [email protected]
, Jaz.
That's my email address. It's always been my address—even before I met you."

She stared at him, and noticed that her mouth had gone slightly
agape.

"Two
Z
s, of course," he said explanatorily, "I
mean it's not 'loves
Jaz
' with one Z. When I got
the address, of course I had never met you. It's—"

"I know. I get it."

"Anyway, I know, it's stupid but I always thought maybe it had
been some—
I don't know
—like a fucking sign or something." He
shrugged, and raised his eyebrows. "Anyway, you know—"

She reached for his hand, and, as three of her fingers graced his,
she felt his twitch, and the tiniest of tears broke from his eyes, his jaw almost
indiscernibly trembling. He clenched his teeth and looked out into the
distance.

She gripped his hand harder, and held it so tight that she was sure she
would snap his fingers. And her jaw, too, began to quiver. Why had they waited
so long?

All that lost time.

She held his hand as if it were an escaping autumn leaf—one that
would
never
escape again.

"The truth is, Jaz," he said, having now regained
composure, "I've loved
Jaz
with one
Z
since the day I met
her. And the stupidest fucking thing I ever did in my whole sorry excuse for a
life was to let her go." Jaz was clenching her
jaw so tightly that her glands under her ears began to hurt. "So, Jaz, if
I asked you whether or not you believed in fate, honestly, I don't really give
a shit. Because if Fate says I can't be with you, then Fate can go screw itself
because I will go against all the Fates and Destinies and Serendipities of all
the worlds and the heavens and skies and moons and the suns and stars ... to be
with you—Jazz with two Zs or Jaz with one, or Mary or Jenny or Sandy or
whatever. And if you'll have—"

Jaz put her index finger to his lips, and rested her head on his chest,
embracing him by the waist. Miguel put his arm around her shoulders, and they
stayed like that awhile—a light breeze as the only sound in their ears.

Just like that day in Northcliff Ridge.

But the silence didn't last long.

"Kiss her for fuck's sake!" It was Thandie, quickly
followed by Elize, then Nita and even Vinesh and the Van Zyls—

This is SO embarrassing.

Jaz laughed into his shirt. It felt as if no time at all had passed
between them. He still smelled like he used to—like cotton, and Paco Rabanne
aftershave, his favorite.

Miguel eased Jaz away and then cupped her face in his palms (her
mascara probably all over her cheekbones by now), and Jaz grabbed him by the
forearms, and looked up at his eyes, realizing for the first time that, maybe,
the pain that had once lain within them—like a gashing wound in their own relationship—was
suddenly gone. And even if it wasn't, they'd be more likely to beat that pain
together than alone.

Together, they'd have a
fighting
chance.

Together, they could kick back at life
harder
.

Miguel eased his head down, slowly, at the same time pulling Jaz's
cheeks up. She stretched onto her toes, and as their lips met—a breath of fresh
air and peace and calmness and ease of tension all through her body—the
cheering began, and so did a new wave of tears from her.

Jaz laughed and cried and laughed … and kissed. She kissed him and he
kissed her and they breathed each other's air and hugged and his arm was so
tight around her shoulders that it began to hurt but she didn't care.

"Finally!" cried Thandie.

And he held her, her cheek now to his shirt, and they just stood
there, staring into the distance, in silence.

They'd work it out, somehow. She would make sure of it.

Celebratory music—
kwaito
—rumbled louder from the tent as
someone turned it up. Beer cans popped and swooshed open as the air was
suddenly filled with calls and whistles and shouts in sync to the music's resonant
rhythm—then cheering, and dancing.

Jaz thought of her dream, of Sandile's face in the clouds, and of him
watching over them.

But she didn't need to look at the sky.

She knew he was there.

From the book,
African Destiny
, by
Sandile Mabuyo.
Published posthumously on his behalf by Jasmine Curtis and Miguel Pinto.
Copyright 2014, Sandile Mabuyo. All Rights Reserved Worldwide.

All proceeds go to the
Sandile Mabuyo Institute for Education
in
Johannesburg (run by Thandie Masiza) and the
Sandile Mabuyo
Insitituto
de Educação
, Xai-Xai (run by Jasmine Curtis and Miguel
Pinto).

The Sunrise

I met a girl today. Her name is Jaz. Actually, it's Jasmine. Jaz
seems just like the kind of girl that Miguel could like. No, that he could
marry
. It has now become my secret plan to maneuver the two of them into
a position where they cannot help but let the falling dominos land where they
may—and, hopefully, those dominos will fall in such a way as to have me standing
next to Miguel as his best man on their wedding day.

Miguel has not moved forward in his life and I don't believe this
was ever what his mother had intended for him. It's true that losing someone
you love can somehow stop you in life, as if remembering the moment of their
death, in some way, keeps that person alive
.

I believe Miguel has done this. I believe he has failed to let go of
the pain and sorrow of his mother and sister's deaths because he is afraid
that, if he does, they will be forgotten.

But there's one thing he doesn't realize: the lives of those who
have left us are not made to continue by us endlessly holding on to the
pain—the moment of their leaving us—but, instead, by looking upon what they
have left behind for us to carry forward.

Parents, in the absence of anything else, leave offspring behind.
And so, it is expected, that a child, by simply living its life, is actually
keeping a long-gone parent alive.

Some people leave works of art, or dreams. Martin Luther King, Jr.
left a dream behind that, simply by us living it, keeps him, to that degree,
alive in the hearts and souls and minds of those who do live it.

Madiba
will, one day, be remembered not by the moment in which he moves
forward and becomes one of Africa's great ancestral spirits, but by his legacy,
and the message he has given us. By us living that legacy, we will be keeping him
alive.

If, after the sun sets, we mourn, and then fail to celebrate its
rising again the very next day, would the sun no less rise?

In this way, Miguel, my friend, I ask you to look at our mutual
sunset—a day which bound us together by a sorrow so deep that neither of us
ever even speaks of it—and acknowledge that the sun has indeed since risen, and
will continue to rise, day after day.

Also for you.

Because the sun never sets on Africa, my friend.

Some people just fail to look at it.

Let that sunshine brighten your days again, Miguel.

And I hope that Jaz will be that sunshine for you.

Sandile Mabuyo, July 5th, 2013

Hi! My name is R.D. Raven. Thank you so
much for reading
Jaz & Miguel.

Jaz & Miguel
is my second full-length novel and I would
really appreciate it if you could give it a review on Amazon and / or
Goodreads. Detailed reviews help other users know more about a book. They also
help users decide whether or not to buy the book (what one person likes,
another might dislike—and vice versa).

Here are a few direct links:

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Amazon.co.uk

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Thanks again!