Whisperers

  Or I don’t know.

  I couldn’t be sure.

  Jerry went to the bathroom.

  There was nothing unusual about that.

  Not for Mommy at least.

  I tried to scream, but Scarface held his hand across my mouth. He held me in a tight grip.

  Georgie sort of snarled.

  Was this because I beat him up?

  As soon as Mommy and Jerry came into the kitchen, Scarface let go of me as Mr D went and grabbed Mommy viciously by her hair.

  She screamed out in pain.

  I ran towards Mommy, but was grabbed again by Scarface. I screamed and kicked as hard as I could, but he was much too big for me. Georgie seemed to enjoy watching me try to free myself from his grip.

  “You better speak now, Stakes, or I’ll rip her eyes out!” That was Mr D.

  He dragged Mommy by her hair into the living room.

  Jerry and Georgie right behind them.

  Scarface kept me in a tight grip as he stayed nearer to the kitchen.

  Mr D threw Mommy onto the couch.

  “Stay b!tch!”

  He pointed the end of the golf club in her face.

  Mommy cried and put her hands to her head. I tried to loosen myself from Scarface’s grip, but it was useless.

  “Stakes, where is it?” Mr D seemed to be talking to Jerry.

  “I don’t know D. Jamiel is lying. I never took anything.”

  Who was Jamiel, I wondered.

  What was all this about.

  I knew Jerry was nothing but trouble. Mommy really should have had her head examined.

  I looked over to her.

  She looked at me.

  She only ever looked like that when Daddy died.

  Almost like she didn’t know what she was going to do anymore.

  A hopeless expression.

  Sad.

  It saddened me to see it.

  I struggled harder against Scarface’s grip. But he held onto me tighter.

  Georgie seemed to be the only one enjoying what was happening.

  Or was it just the expression on his face?

  He had a nice busted lip and a black eye.

  His nose seemed funny looking.

  Almost like it was swollen.

  I sure beat him good.

  This didn’t seem to have anything to do with that though.

  Or did it?

  Was this perhaps about Simoné?

  Was that perhaps why she wanted to see me?

  But what would she have to do with Jerry, Scarface and Mr D?

  Sure Georgie was her cousin.

  But why were they here?

  “Tell me, Stakes, or I’ll bust her head!”

  He raised the golf club into the air.

  “I don’t know, D. Honest to God. I don’t.” Jerry seemed to be pleading.

  He sure looked pathetic.

  Not the usual confident one that gave me a glare whenever Mommy told me to go to bed.

  He seemed really scared.

  “Very well then.”

  “No!”

  I shouted and freed myself from Scarface’s grip.

  I slipped and fell.

  Knocked my head hard against the sharp, wooden edge of the couch. I heard Mommy scream.

  As he swung the golf club hard.

  He hit her right in the face.

  I heard it.

  The loud crack.

  *Crack*

  Just as I passed out.

   

  v

   

  When I came too, we were no longer at the house.

  I was wet and cold. It was raining.

  I realized I was lying on the back of a bakkie.

  How on earth did I get here?

  Where is Mommy?

  I was still slightly dizzy and my head ached there where I hit it.

  Then I remembered.

  The couch.

  Yes.

  It all started to come back to me.

  Before I could do anything, I was grabbed by Scarface and he threw me to the ground.

  I was not sure where we were. The bakkie was parked on an open area. Mostly grass and sand. There was a big warehouse to the left. Houses or flats to the right. More houses on the opposite side of the street. I had no idea where we were.

  I was scared and frightened.

  I looked around again for Mommy, but nothing. I remembered that he hit her.

  Mr D.

  Where was he?

  I got up, but was pushed to the ground again.

  Again it was Scarface.

  He forced me to move in the direction where it seemed the others were.

  They seemed to be more in the street.

  Uhm.

  It was late.

  Most houses were dark. Here and there an outside light was on.

  All the street lights were off.

  He pushed me till they were all visible in the pouring rain.

  Georgie and Mr D.

  Jerry was gone.

  I wonder what happened to him.

  Maybe he was attacked by Mr D too.

  What was it that they were looking for?

  What did Mr D want?

  Was it the leather pouch?

  The one that was now lost?

  I had a bad feeling about this.

  I felt like crying.

  I wish Daddy was here.

  If he was here, he would make all of this disappear.

  When Scarface was satisfied that we were close enough, he forced me to stand still.

  Right next to him.

  Did he know that I took the leather pouch?

  This must be all my fault.

  Oh, dear Lord.

  Forgive me.

  I am sorry I took it.

  Please, let them not kill me.

  The rain kept pouring.

  More and more.

  I saw the flash of lightning and almost immediately heard the thunder.

  Like it was about to strike right where we were.

  It scared me more.

  Was Mommy alright?

  Please let her be okay.

  I prayed.

  Uhm.

  I wish Daddy was here.

   

  vi

   

  “I saw him give it to you.”

  That was Georgie.

  He was talking to Scarface that was still standing next to me.

  “You must still be on those drugs they pumped into you at Stikland!”

  Scarface seemed more nervous than when I observed him from the pipe.

  “I saw Jamiel give it to him, Mr D.”

  Georgie was adamant. He seemed to be positive about what he was saying.

  “Stakes and I were busy sorting the weed, when I saw Jamiel hand it to him.”

  This had nothing to do with the leather pouch, I presumed.

  What weed was this?

  What were they talking about?

  “That was just him handing me some bags to help with the sorting.”

  Georgie shook his head and smiled.  Two top teeth fully exposed. Those gums. He wiped the rain water from his face and spat towards his left.

  “Mr D, he took it. I followed them, but…”

  He looked at me.

  Snarled, and then looked back at Mr D.

  “I lost them. Near the station…”

  He looks at me again, then at Scarface.

  Then both went quiet when Mr D took out the gun.

  He pointed it at Georgie.

  “Tell me where it is, or I’ll kill you too.”

  Georgie was no longer smiling.

  He wiped more rain water from his face.

  I didn’t think Georgie could look any funnier, but he did.

  Now he too looked pathetic.

  “I swear Mr D. He and Jamiel have what you are looking for.”

  Georgie seemed to try and hide from the pointed gun, by holding his hands closer to his face.

  The thunder sounded
to be getting closer.

  “I am only going to ask you one last time. Then I start killing.”

  He points the gun to me.

  Please, Lord. Let him not kill me, please. I am sorry.

  I also tried to hide behind nothing.

  I don’t know why, it just seemed to be the best thing to do.

  To hide.

  Even though there was nothing to hide behind.

  Umf.

  Uhm.

  Mr D then pointed the gun at Georgie and finally at Scarface.

  “I swear, D. I don’t know what he is talking about.”

  His voice changed.

  Almost like he was scared too.

  I could see it now.

  The gun he had in his hand.

  Scarface.

  I heard the thunder and the gunshots almost simultaneously.

  Dwah! Dwah!

  *Dwah*

  He fell to the ground.

  He shot him.

  He shot Scarface.

  Georgie looked more scared than before.

  “Now. Tell me where it is, G.”

  Mr D now had the gun on Georgie.

  “I swear, Mr D. He or Jamiel has it. They took it. Yesterday. I swear. Please. Believe me.”

  It was sad to see Georgie beg.

  Such a tough guy reduced to a pathetic little girl.

  Serves him right.

  “Very well then.”

  Mr D now pointed the gun to Georgie’s head.

  He pulled the trigger.

   

  vii

  I vomited.

  It just came out of my mouth suddenly.

  I stood more towards Scarface’s body.

  I was not sure whether he was dead.

  The sight of the blood flowing from his shoulder made me vomit more.

  It was washed away by the rain.

  Mixed with the blood and all flowed down the drain.

  It was mostly just Malta-bella.

  That was all I had eaten all day.

  Even right before Mommy went to take her bath.

  I loved Malta-bella.

  We were waiting for Aunty Anne, to have supper together. We did that sometimes when she worked day shift. After work was the only time we really got to see her.

  Night-shift was the worst.

  The hospital kept Aunty Anne busy. She sometimes had to stay late because a few of the nurses always showed up late for work.

  She always said that she took it in good faith that they were telling her the truth when they gave her excuses about the busses showing up late or that there was some train strike.

  Bona-fide story-tel-lers she used to call them.

  I was never sure if the word was spelt bona or bono.

  Not even sure if it was spelt with the minus sign or not.

  English.

  I hated it.

  I looked at Scarface.

  He was just lying on the tar road.

  I suddenly felt very responsible.

  Like I was somehow the cause for this man’s death.

  All because I took the stupid pouch.

  I looked over to Georgie.

  He was looking at me, but he looked back at Mr D quick.

  “I’ll ask you one last time, George. Where is it?”

  George.

  I always thought he was plain old Georgie.

  “Not you too, G? You were my best. Took you as my son soon as your dad got himself wasted.”

  “Please, Mr D. I am telling you the truth. They took it.”

  Georgie was near tears.

  I felt sad for him.

  He didn’t deserve to be shot.

  As bad as Georgie was he didn’t deserve to die in the rain.

  By a bullet.

  That was meant for me.

  I deserved it.

  I took it.

  If Daddy taught me anything, it was that I must take responsibility for my actions.

  Forced or otherwise.

  I took it.

  It was me.

  I looked at Georgie.

  He was still trying to hide behind nothing.

  I leaped forward as Mr D pulled the trigger.

  This time he wasn’t bluffing.

  I heard it.

  Dwah!

  *Dwah*

  End of Cape of Storms

  Whisperers

  But Allah hath full knowledge of your enemies: Allah is enough for a Protector, and Allah is enough for a Helper. (Surah An-Nisa (The Women) 4:45 Holy Qur’an Yusuf Ali.)

   

  BB Gun fight

  Fear and self-arming in South Africa

  South African police say crime is decreasing, but levels of private gun ownership are stubbornly high

  https://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2013/feb/14/fear-arming-south-africa-guns

  Conscience

  Mama,just killed a man...

  From Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen

  i

  "There are those I still wanted us to watch together, but... Alas.

  It's Everybody hates Chris and Boondocks."

   

  Wednesday, 23 January 1991.

  23:35.

  I leaped in front of Georgie.

  Dwah!

  *Dwah!*

  I saw Anubis go to the ground.

  No.

  He jumped in front of me.

  Lord, no.

  Not Anubis.

  I ran to him.

  Took him in my arms.

  Where did he come from?

  Did he follow me all this way?

  Why?

  Why Anubis?

  The gun fell out of his hand.

  Scarface.

  He wasn't dead.

  I couldn't believe it.

  But I focused on the gun.

  Take it.

  I picked it up.

  Didn't even think about it.

  Do it.

  Kill him.

  He murdered your dog.

  I put my finger on the trigger.

  Had to hold the gun with both hands.

  It was heavy.

  But it was not my first time to hold a gun.

  No.

  Daddy always let me hold his.

  He kept one in his safe.

  After Daddy came from the war at the border, he was different.

  He trusted no one.

  He got the gun and taught me how to use it too.

  He wanted me to be safe if they came.

  Mommy didn't like the idea at all.

  Guns are dangers is what she always would say.

  Daddy didn't back down though.

  Being a white man, married  to a Coloured woman, only meant he was a target.

  That is what Daddy always said.

  No.

  The gun remained in our house.

  It was still there today.

  Mommy kept it, after Daddy died.

  Uhm.

  I was scared.

  My fingers trembled.

  My entire body was shaking.

  Not only ‘cause of the cold.

  And wet.

  I was angry.

  Afraid.

  Afraid-angry.

  I couldn’t be sure.

  I took my finger off the trigger.

  I couldn’t do it.

  No.

  Coward.

  I started putting the gun down.

  The tears started rolling down my face.

  The rain washed it away.

  Mixed with all the blood that trickled down the drain.

  I looked up.

  Just in time to see him point the gun at my head.

  He smirked.

  Satisfied.

  Pulled the trigger.

  Dwah!

  *Dwah!*

   

  ii

   

  "Mr D! Mr D!"

  Georgie was screaming frantically.

  He shook Mr D's shoulders.

  I looked at the gun in my hands.
r />   I can't believe I pulled the trigger.

  I shot him.

  Straight in his chest.

  I let it fall to the ground as I fell to my knees.

  I folded my arms across Anubis.

  Buried my face next to his head and cried.

  All the emotions I felt, just came pouring out.

  The rain washed it all away.

  Down the drain.

  Anubis was still very warm.

  Though wet.

  Uhm.

  I took him in.

  That wet dog smell.

  I was sure this would probably be the last time that I could.

  My dog.

  My friend.

  He was dead.

  I hated Mr D.

  I hated myself.

  Scarface stammered up slowly.

  He looked at me, then at Georgie.

  I didn't bother to move.

  If he wanted to kill me, then he should do it.

  I didn't want to live knowing that I killed a man.

  Knowing that I caused my friend's death.

  I deserve to die.

  I must be punished.

  Yes.

  You must.

  You did it.

  You killed him.

  That is against his will.

  Ha wa wa ko ko.

  Ha wa wa ko ko.

  Only one direction for you.

  Uhm.

  iii

   

  "Davids. Is he dead?"

  This was Scarface.

  And who...

  Davids.

  Mr D.

  Oh, dear Lord.

  Don't tell me it is that Davids.

  Please, let me not be the one responsible for her father's death.

  Please, Lord.

  Say it isn't so.

  "Looks like he is, " said Georgie.

  He looked at me.

  He still seemed sad.

  A bit relieved to.

  "What are we going to do?"

  He gets up and stands next to Mr D's body.

  "We bury him."

  Scarface said that plainly.

  "We are both finally free of him."

  Georgie looked at him.

  Shook his head in agreement.

  "So where is the stuff?"

  Georgie was now more his usual self again.

  I couldn't believe it.

  Here I was freaking out and they were both casual.

  As if nothing happened.

  To top it all.

  They seemed to be happy that I killed him.

  Uhm.

  Can you believe it.

  "The stuff was taken. Jamiel and I left it in a tunnel near the tracks. When we went to get it, it was gone."

  So they were after the leather pouch.

  After all.

  Now I hated myself even more.

  I was truly responsible for this entire mess.

  "That must be what Jamiel was on about before the cops took him."

  That was Georgie.

  "What do you suppose happened to it."

  Georgie seemed very curious.

  Like he really didn't know.

  "No idea."

  Scarface gave me a stare.

  "What do we tell my cousin?"

  That was Georgie.

  "Who? Simoné?"

  That was Scarface.

  "We tell her nothing."

  That was the end of the conversation.

  They put Mr D on the back of the bakkie.

  They took Anubis too.

  Georgie carried him.

  I could never manage by myself.

  I didn't like it that he touched my dog.

  But it was like Georgie wanted to carry him.

  He put him down at the back of the bakkie.

  On top of a small mattress.

  He was sure to put the head down softly.