







Sweet 16, yep I’m turning 16 today. These kinds of festivities are usually thrown for girls, but here I am, I’m a boy and a recipient of one. A lime gateau with 16 tiers representing every single year that I have lived is displayed elegantly on the table. Lime draping, round tables, champagne glasses and over-elaborate decorations are the order of the day.





“Israel, don’t move. You will ruin it.”





That’s my father, Mike. He is helping me dress up. I feel like a penguin and uncomfortable in a charcoal tuxedo, a white shirt and a bow tie. I can’t help but smile as he looks at me with eyes that glitter like stars. He is also looking dapper in a tux that looks exactly like mine. We are like a colony of penguins.





Mike has made sure that I’m the most neat and cleanest kid in school. He is a neatnik and I love him for that. He packed my lunch boxes every day without fail and gave me kisses on the forehead every time he dropped me off at school. He loves me and I love him too.





“You look perfect, Israel.”





Lucky says as he waltzes in, and puts his arm round the neck of my father. He stares straight at me and his stare triggers my dimples. He being here takes me to a nolgastic retrospect which evokes bubbly and colourful feelings inside of me; The day when he taught me how to swim. He is also my father and I use his surname. He is also suited up like all of us. We are indeed a colony of penguins. I have 2 dads who love me, and I was not always grateful for it.





When I was 9 I pleaded with my father, Mike, to start dropping me off a little further from school. He would kiss my forehead and watch me walk a couple of meters to school. Prior to me entering the school yard I would untuck my shirt from my pants, loosen up my tie and drop my pants a little to sag. I didn’t want to be like my fathers. They embarrassed me, I was ashamed of them. They smartly dressed, had brilliant careers and showed me nothing but love, and I was embarrassed. If I were to survive school I had to be a difficult target for bullies.





“You don’t have a mommy?”

“How did your two dads create you?”

“Only retards have two dads.”

“My mommy says your 2 dads will go to hell.”

“Your dads are gay?”





I was 9, and I already had to grow a thick skin. Parents were abusing me through my peers, their kids. It was demented, more demented because parents used their kids as perpetrators of hate and prejudice. It was an everyday never ending cycle of pain.





Some educators had creative imaginations and thought I needed saving. They afforded me a “safe” platform so that should my dads touch me in ways I didn’t understand I could open up. Other kids were not afforded the same opportunity, although we all knew that Thabo’s dad was a pedophile. He didn’t have 2 dads, perhaps it was alright. I guess having 2 dads came with certain perks.





They equated my dads being in love, to being capable of pedophiliac behavior. It was insane, but I was embarrassed. I asked to start taking a bus to school. I didn’t know how much that would hurt both my fathers, but I was doing it for me, and I knew it pierced their hearts deeply. My fathers could bleed, but they were good at hiding the blood stains for anyone to see. They instead hired a chauffeur for me, someone who wouldn’t kiss me on the forehead every time he dropped me off at school.





I was used to my everyday routine. Woke up, made my bed, took a bath, joined my two dads for breakfast, get a healthy lunch box, some pocket money; kiss both my dads goodbye, and then school. We spent our weekends together and perhaps it was not all that bad. I sometimes wished I had a mother, or normal parents. It would make my life easier. I wouldn’t be teased and I would have sanity in my life.





“Issy.”





That was my dad, Lucky. He took a controller and joined me and played games. We played silently and I was beating him. I knew he was letting me win. I didn’t care, he seemed to be having a good time and we were laughing. It reminded me why my fathers were my fathers.





“I beat you up dad.”





“Oh man, you did. I enjoyed playing with you. Which reminds me, you’ve never invited any of your friends to come by the house?”





“Dad, I-“





“We know you are embarrassed by us, but that shouldn’t stop you from inviting your friends over. Just let us know and we can leave the house until they are gone. You are a great kid with great intentions Issy. We love you. Never forget that.”





I was silent the whole time. I couldn’t find words to respond with. He patted my back and then slowly walked out of my room. I looked at his back as he closed the door. His shoulders were lowered and he didn’t look back.





“Dad,”





I said to him as he held the door knob ready to shut the door behind him.





“I love you too.”





He nodded with a forced smile and then closed the door behind him. At that moment I realized that there was something I was doing to my parents that wasn’t right. I was ashamed of them and it hurt them. They showed me unconditional borders and horizons of love, they cared for me and loved me for who I was, but I couldn’t do the same for them. I was ashamed of them, I really was.





Years went by and when I turned 14 there were new developments in my life. I was a young adolescent and I started dating a girl named Jane. She used to call me her Tarzan. Maybe that had something to do with my curly, Afro hair. I liked her a lot. I couldn’t tell my parents about her and I also couldn’t make her meet my dads. Don’t worry, we were not having sex yet, we knew better.

I had been to her parents’ house and they were eager to meet my parents.





Things were moving too fast, we were only 14 for God’s sake. It was not like we were planning on getting married or anything like that. The truth about my parents was ruining my every chance of happiness. I perhaps started to silently resent them. I was quiet most of the time at the house and always snapped whenever they tried to talk to me. I was angry, angry that I didn’t have a normal life that other kids had.





“Issy.”





“What?”





My parents came into my room that evening. They had a piece of paper with them. They both sat on my bed and their faces looked somber, as though someone had died. I switched off my game and let the controller go.





“We received a letter from the sheriff of the court. Your biological father wants custody of you.”





My dad, Lucky, spoke in a shaky and broken voice. He lowered it to maintain his composure and to cover a sob. Mike had his mouth opened and breathed heavily to avoid making a sound while tears trickled down his eyes. I didn’t know how to feel. Maybe I was glad that my circus life was coming to an end. I would have a daddy and maybe a mommy. Things I never had and things I always wished I had.





“I don’t understand dad.”





“Your father came out of nowhere, but maybe this is what you need. We have deliberated and thought hard about it. It’s not easy for us, but we won’t contest the custody. We love you Issy, and we will do anything to ensure your happiness.”





I became silent. I was still shocked by the news. My dads were letting me go. I didn’t ask them to fight to keep me, maybe that’s what they were expecting, maybe that’s what they wanted to hear, but I didn’t give that to them. I selfishly threw a party and celebrated in my heart.









I couldn’t pack everything that I owned. I owned a lot of things that I didn’t really need. They stood by the door step, held their hands. The man who was supposed to be my father stood outside his big Ford Ranger double cab bakkie. I carried my load out of the house and I knew it was the beginning of a new chapter for me. I looked at their faces as I walked out. Mike was a mess and his face was wet. Lucky, tried to hold it in, but I could tell he would reminisce about our days at the park, our daily routines and family times we’ve had when I’m gone, and he would break.

I hugged them, and they warmly did same.





“We are only a phone call away. We will always love you.”





“Don’t worry dad, I will be fine.”





I was glad they didn’t give me an opportunity to choose between them and my biological father. Perhaps they knew what my choice would’ve been anyway. I was excited; I couldn’t wait for Jane to meet my real dad. I was going to have a normal life for the first time in my life. I loved my dads, but what my biological father was giving me was too tempting and luring to deny. He was giving me a chance at sanity.





We drove in silence. He was not as eccentric as Mike or as calm as Lucky. He had his own ambience which I couldn’t make out.





“They raised you well, son.”





He said as he broke the eyes. He had a big voice, his shirt revealed a certain degree of masculinity. I wanted to be like him. He exuded power, masculinity and pride.





“Mom, do I have a mom?”





“Yes, but she died several years ago. I do stay with my fiancé though. Her name is Dora. By the way, you can call me Maxwell, or dad, whichever comes easy for you.”





I looked at his face and I saw in his eyes melancholy. His eyes invited me deep into his soul and there were certain degrees of rage and storms that I couldn’t understand.





“I know you are anxious to know why we left you. I will discuss that with you when we get to the house.”





It was a silent and awkward drive. We had nothing in common, but maybe we would find our patter as life and years went by. I didn’t know how to feel about him, if I loved him or not. We didn’t have any thing in common. Maybe it was too soon to gauge, but I was looking forward to my new life.

We reached my new home. It looked decent, not a mansion or as fancy as the home I was used to. I didn’t get the logic behind Mike and Lucky’s big mansion as it was only the three of us.





“This is it.”





Maxwell, my new dad said proudly with a sigh following his proclamation. I opened the door of the car and went to get my luggage. It was the beginning of a new reality for me. The life I always wanted was right in front of my eyes. There was a lot to be done, I had to acclimatize, learn new routines and learn to start calling Maxwell, dad.





“Son, we need to do a paternity test tomorrow.”





That puzzled me. Why claim me if he was not sure that he was my dad. I didn’t know how to respond. My mouth was opened a little and my face wrinkled a little.





“It’s only a formality for the court that’s all.”





“But my da… uhm… Mike and Lucky won’t fight the custody.”





“Like I said, it’s only a formality for the court.”





th of June, my birthday. Mike used to tell me that when they found me I was wrapped in a lime blanket. It was right at their door step. Someone rang a bell and they opened the door only to find a baby wrapped in a lime blanket. There was a card that stated everything about me, and the day they found me was the day I was born. My new dad on the other hand seemed more focused on getting the paper work finalized. It didn’t make sense to me. It was a week before the 13of June, my birthday. Mike used to tell me that when they found me I was wrapped in a lime blanket. It was right at their door step. Someone rang a bell and they opened the door only to find a baby wrapped in a lime blanket. There was a card that stated everything about me, and the day they found me was the day I was born. My new dad on the other hand seemed more focused on getting the paper work finalized.





“Come, I’ll show you to your room.”





“He is cute,“





I turned to the door and there was my new mommy, Dora. She had pure white teeth, her hair was nicely pony tailed. She had a body of a super model. In short she was beautiful.





“Max, you were not going to introduce me, were you?”





“Shut up Dora and mind your own business.”





It was too early to say, but the way he spoke to his fiancé was ugly. It immediately emancipated him from the man that saved my ugly life, to a wild and savage gorilla without manners. Lucky never spoke to Mike that way, at least not in my presence. They were gay, they were not normal. Perhaps the way Maxwell spoke to his fiancé was how normal couples conversed most of the time. Maxwell was just showing me the truest form of masculinity. Maybe it was another lesson in disguise. Maybe I would thank him later for it.





My new room’s walls were not painted yellow like my old room. It was not as fancy but it was decent. There were no game consoles or any of the accessories I was used to. It was a good bed, a mirror and a closet. Behind the curtain was a view, a scrap yard. Happy days were here and the life I was looking forward to had begun.





Breakfast was a new ball game. Everyone made their own food. It was a true test of masculinity I suppose. I did burn my eggs and sausage while trying to have a morning fix. Dora was cheerful, however when I looked away I could feel a gaping hole inside of her. She was not happy, she had put on a façade and a masquerade. It was so ornate and beautiful that she made it a part of her life. She was good at feigning, she really was.





We went to do the paternity tests with my father and we got that out of the way. Days went and I got used to my new routine, my new normal. I didn’t understand why he treated Dora the way he did, and I didn’t understand why she stayed. He wouldn’t talk to her, whenever he did he shouted at her.





No church on Sundays, no chauffeur for me to go to school. I had to take a bus. Not that I minded, but I had to sacrifice a lot of benefits to be with Maxwell who was not ready to talk about how and why they abandoned me. My birthday came and went. It was like any other day. No fancy lime cake, no being woken up with a blast and shouts of “HAPPY BIRTHDAY”. That was my new normal, the normal that I chose.





“I’m taking you to your grandmother. I’m going to be out of town for the weekend.”





Maxwell said softly. I had a grandmother that was great news. I didn’t even think about it. It would be great to meet some of the people I was related to. Family, somewhere I belonged.





“I have a grandmother?”





“Yes, cousins, uncles and aunties.”





I was looking forward to meeting them. I had a family after all. I went to visit my grandmother and it became an every weekend routine as Maxwell had commitments on weekends and he didn’t want to leave me alone in the house with Dora. My grandmother was an amazing person. She was a lot of fun. She baked a lot and always had people visiting her.





“Grand ma,”





I had a cup of tea on the table next to me and I sat peacefully with my grandmother.





“Why did they abandon me? Mom and dad, why did they abandon me?”





She took an uncomfortable sip from her cup of tea. She looked up and rolled her eyes as if pushing tears back where they were supposed to stay and locked up. She knew the truth and if Maxwell wouldn’t tell me the truth, then it would be best heard from her.





“I didn’t know you were born that day. No one knew that your mother was pregnant. Your father was a felon, he was in prison.”





“So mom was alone without any support when I was born?”





“yes, she was alone, broke and your father’s enemies wanted to hurt her. So, she looked for a newlywed couple that would appreciate a baby. She found your parents and left you with them. She did well for herself over the years. She got wealthy and she opened up about you. Unfortunately she got sick and died. She left a will behind that should your father find you before you reached 16, a certain amount of money will be released to him.”





It all made sense to me. It’s been over a year and I and Maxwell had failed to connect on a father son level. I was his ticket to mega amounts of money left behind by my mother. He didn’t find me because he wanted to find me, he found me because I was a key to a treasure chest. I kept quiet and tears trickled out of my eyes.





“Do you like staying with your father?”





“Well, we don’t talk about anything. I thought it was how normal families lived.”





“Normal?”





“Yes, Normal. Before he found me I had two dads who were married to each other. I was embarrassed of them and ashamed too. Our family was not normal. They took a lot of interest in my school work, my soccer lessons, my music lessons and a whole lot of things. Other fathers are not like that. It’s not normal, is it?”





I hiccuped and I felt an uncomfortable watery line draw itself on my cheek. It was involuntary, but I found myself sipping a cup of tea to avoid making a sob sound. My grandmother hugged me. She embraced me warmly. I wept, that day I wept. I became filled with longing. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Mike’s smile, every time I closed my eyes I saw Lucky losing a game just to boost my ego. It was a feeling I couldn’t shake off. Was I missing them? Did I mistake love for abnormal?





“Ashamed? Embarrassed? Look how well-groomed you are. You are clean, neat and a young gentle man. Your fathers did a good job raising you. I wish my daughter had guts to come to me and ask for help when she needed saving, but she didn’t. Instead she saved you. That is love, and everything your fathers did for you is not cowardice, or abnormal. It is love.”





I had an idea of masculinity in my head. I was infatuated by it. The television, the magazines and the whole media had molten my thoughts about masculinity and it was all wrong. My fathers were grooming me into a man I was meant to be. I listened to the world when it said my family was abnormal and I believed it. Men being good men were labelled weak and soft. Men don’t cry they would say, but it was untrue. It was not true at all.





I stood there in silence trying to hold back my emotions. All along I was ashamed of my parents, but the person they had to be ashamed of was me.





“I know my daughter loved you. She was a smart girl; she must have made her research before choosing your fathers to raise you. Anyway, you believe in the bible, right?”





“Yes grand ma, I do.”





“Then cheer up. Jesus had 2 dads and he turned out just fine.”





She quipped, and her witticism forced a chuckle out of me. There was hooting from the street. It was my father, Maxwell. I kissed my grand ma good bye and embraced her. She was an amazing woman. If my mother was half what my grand ma was, then she was an extra ordinary woman. I didn’t want to know why my father went to prison. I got into the car and it was silent.





Silence became our everyday routine. Flashbacks of my fathers and the love they expressed to me every day became my new normal. I wept alone sometimes. I would put the pillow on my head so that no one would hear my groaning, but I did cry.





“Israel, are you crying?”





I heard my door make squeaky sounds from the hinges. It was Dora inviting herself in my room. I guess she could hear my groaning from the other side. She had a vanilla ice cream bowl and two spoons.





“Go away, Dora.”





“I can’t sleep as well.”





I wished she was as formidable and persistent towards my father like she was to me. She opened my blanket and let herself in. I knew she wouldn’t want to molest me or anything like that. She was a nice person, not an ideal mommy, but she was a nice person. She handed me a spoon and she started attacking the big ice cream bowl.





“I’m going to leave him… Your father, I’m going to leave him.”





“Don’t you love him?”





“I do, I love him a lot. He only got engaged to me because he wanted the court to think that he had a stable home. The court would give him custody of you if I was in the picture. He doesn’t love me. Have you seen how he treats me? I know he loves you though.”





“He has a funny way of showing it.”





“Is that why you are crying? He is not being affectionate enough?”





“No Dora, Maxwell is a shrewd and tactical treasure hunter. He found the treasure and I’m the key to opening it, that’s all I’ll ever be to him.”





“Well, I guess we were both played by your father. Don’t give up on him. He will come around. You are his son.”





Ice cream tasted good. My father, Mike wouldn’t allow me to eat that much ice cream. He fussed a lot over nothing. He was too concerned about my safety. I missed that. I missed someone caring for me and fussing about me. Dora and I bonded that evening. She was indeed a wonderful woman.

My school bag was fuller than usual the next morning. I didn’t even eat breakfast. Maxwell sat on the table eating cereal. I looked at him and he returned same. I opened the door and left.





School was out and I didn’t want to go home. I took a bus towards my grandmother’s house. It was over an hour and a half ride. I sat in there, but my mind wandered to lands unknown. I got out of the bus and as I crossed the street to get to my grandmother’s house I got hit by a car. I didn’t see it; I don’t even remember how it happened. I just woke up to blue lights, surrounded by people. My grandmother was there, tears streaming down her eyes and the hysteria was indescribable.





I was put on a stretcher and then into an ambulance. I got to the ER at the hospital and I was admitted. They put a crust on my left foot and right hand, bandaged wounds on my body and my head. It was arduous and grueling, but the doctors ensured that I was fixed up. My grandmother was alongside me. He arrived, Maxwell arrived. I slept on the bed and my eyes met his. He didn’t blink or look away, instead he invited me into his soul and I saw fear, devastation and pain.





“What happened? Why was he in your area anyway?”





“I don’t know Maxwell. Perhaps if you took your time being his father you would know him better.”





“I’m alright guys. A little concussion, broken foot and wounds on my face, yeah, I’m alright.”





I said wanting to diffuse the tension in the ward. My grand ma went out of the ward and although she was trying to hide it, I knew she was upset with my father. He slowly walked towards my bed side and kneeled.





“Son, things happened to me when I was in prison. I’m seeing someone, I’m trying to fix myself, and I’m getting help. I know you think I got you back because of the money your mom left for me, which is true, but I love you. I do. I can’t express love for the woman I love. I snap at her and fight her all the time. I’m a broken man, I need to be mended and repaired. You make me want to be a better man; you and Dora are all I have now.”





I realized how difficult that was for him. He was a man that grew up in a society that taught him that acknowledging his flaws and short comings was weak. He was being brave and taking accountability. That was a good start.





A door opened slowly and I was fixated on what Maxwell was saying.





“Issy, are you alright?”





It was Mike and Lucky, my 2 dads. I looked at Maxwell, he had a well of tears forming in his eyes. He nodded and got up.





“I – I called them.”





“Dads, what are you doing here?”





“We- we can wait outside if now is a bad time.”





Mike looked at Lucky when he said that. I had wounded them; I left scars on them that threw me into an abyss of shame and remorse. That reminded me of how selfish I was.





“No, dad. I want you to stay. I missed you so much.”





Mike sniffed and then turned his head towards the shoulder of Lucky. He fondled his head and hugged him, comforting him. They were true and elite epitome of love. They had given me a choice to choose and I didn’t choose them. I was sorry and I regretted it, but no amount of remorse would change what was done.





“Dads, I missed you guys. I wept every night, thinking about you. I love you guys.”





Maxwell, my biological father looked at me. I didn’t have any grudges or hate towards him. He made his own choices and he was accounting for them every day of his life.





“You too Maxwell, I love you. When I get released I want to go home with my dads. Maxwell, fix your life. Dora loves you and you can always come to visit me. I miss my dads. I miss playing games with Lucky, I miss everything Mike did for me, the warm breakfasts, the loving dinners and the fussing about my safety. I miss it all.”





“It’s alright son, they are also your parents. I don’t have anything against you staying with them. I will visit you and I will call you. I will fix myself up, I owe it to you to do so.”





“Thanks dad.”





For the first time in my life I hugged my biological father. There was a connection. I knew he would overcome his demons and life’s unreasonable difficulties. He had the will to, he wanted to.

7 days later I was out of hospital. I came back home with my 2 dads. Over a year ago I was on a journey of discovery. I learned to love, I learned the true meaning of masculinity and most importantly I found my other dad.





Today is the 13 th of June. It’s my birthday .Sweet 16; yep I’m turning 16 today. These kinds of festivities are usually thrown for girls, but here I am, I’m a boy and a recipient of one. A lime gateau with 16 tiers representing every single year that I have lived is displayed elegantly on the table. Lime draping, round tables, champagne glasses and over elaborate decorations are the order of the day.





“Israel, don’t move. You will ruin it.”





That’s my father, Mike. He is helping me dress up. I feel like a penguin and uncomfortable in a charcoal tuxedo, a white shirt and a bow tie.





“You look perfect, Israel.”





Lucky says as he waltzes in, and puts his arm round the neck of my father. He is also suited up like all of us. We are indeed a colony of penguins. I have 2 dads who love me, and I was not always grateful for it.





“Oh man, look at my son.”





That’s my third dad, Maxwell. He is my biological father. I found him late in my life. He slowly walked towards my 2 dads, parted them, got in between them and put his arms over their shoulders. He also was suited up likes us, penguins. I looked at them and I saw 3 pairs of eyes looking proudly and profoundly at me.





“Guys what is this? Are you guys on a three musketeers adventure or something like that?”





They looked at each other and laughed their lungs out. I had invited my friends for the first time to my home. Jane was there, grand ma was there, my cousins were there and a whole lot of strangers. It was a party anyway.





Grand ma said that Jesus had 2 dads and he turned out just fine. Well, I heard he died at age 33 because one of his dads ordered it. I have 3 dads that want me to live. I’m not going to turn out fine; I’m going to be the best I can ever be.







