Read Online Fly Away Home by Vanessa Del Fabbro - Free Book Online

families, and found a quiet corner to say their final goodbyes. Zak had warned Monica not to prolong this parting or Sipho would be upset. He was right, of course, but it would take considerable effort on her part.
    â€œTake care of yourself,” she told Sipho, before wrapping her arms around him.
    Despite the change in his voice, he was still a young boy. Well, outwardly anyway; he had always seemed wise and mature beyond his years.
    â€œI’ll miss you, Mom,” he whispered in her ear.
    â€œWe’ll see you soon,” she whispered back.
    It was Zak’s turn to hug him next. “Goodbye, Sipho,” he said in a voice full of emotion. “We’re here for you, so phone anytime.”
    Mandla and Sipho’s goodbye was awkward since they were not used to hugging each other. Sipho looked genuinely sad about leaving his brother, but Mandla pulled away, smiling and talking about his own trip to the United States at Christmas. His sibling’s absence would sink in over the next few days, Monica suspected.
    Sipho, always a worrier, did not want to go to the boarding area at the last minute, and so, although they could have spent more time together, the family escorted him to the security checkpoint through which only travelers could proceed.
    Monica stole one more hug before he joined the throng showing passports to a uniformed security guard. Sipho turned around and waved once. Monica fought back her tears.
    Zak put an arm around her shoulders and Mandla took her hand. “It’s only four months,” she murmured. But it was not only the time, it was the distance, too, and the fact that Sipho was going to another country. In his luggage was a collection of his favorite books on African animals and marine life, as well as a photo of his family and one of his late mother, Ella. How would her son cope in a new place, where these things were of no importance to anyone but himself? He would truly be alone.
    Mandla wanted to watch Sipho’s plane take off, but since that wouldn’t happen for at least an hour, Zak suggested they watch another plane instead.
    â€œIt’s not the same,” said Mandla, accepting the deal.
    Despite his grumbling, he was thrilled by the sight of a massive airliner leaving the ground, and all the way back to the car he complained about the unfairness of Sipho going to America and not him.
    â€œAren’t you a little young to think about leaving us?” asked Monica, expecting him to give his usual sheepish smile before hugging her and promising her his undying love.
    â€œI suppose so,” he said, carefully weighing his answer. “But I might have to go one day.”
    She shot Zak a tearful look, but he was engrossed in rifling through his pockets for the parking ticket. If she had been alone, she would have locked herself in the car to sob her eyes out, just as she’d done the day her parents had left South Africa.
    Monica and Zak were both quiet on the return journey. Zak knew better than to try to cheer her up by telling her that four months would pass quickly, that Sipho would adjust, that he was a resilient boy. But Mandla could not bear the silence and filled it with his chatter. Nothing escaped a comment from him—other cars, shacks built close to the freeway, people trying to cross the highway on foot. And when they turned onto the road that led north to Lady Helen, he attempted, without much success, to recall the names of the birds he spotted, the plants Sipho had identified for them on countless other trips, the insects that spattered against the windshield.
    Monica and Zak dropped him off at school just as recess was ending, which caused him to groan in disappointment.
    Zak then drove to Monica’s office on Main Street.
    â€œWill you be okay?” he asked tenderly.
    She nodded. “I’ll be busy, which is good.”
    â€œDo you want to come to the hospital for lunch?”
    She patted his hand.