Entwined

by Cheryl S. Ntumy

  “Don’t worry. It’ll come back.”

  “But not with you.” I look straight into his eyes. “You’ll still keep blocking me.”

  He smiles and says nothing.

  I fold my arms. “How do you do it?”

  “Ask your grandfather.”

  “He never reveals his secrets. Come on; it’s not like I’ll be able to do anything about it.” I give him a plaintive look. “One day I might have to block another telepath. Would you want me to be helpless in the face of such danger?”

  He laughs and looks away. “I’m not working this weekend.”

  “Good for you. You work too hard, anyway.”

  He looks down, brushing imaginary dirt off his immaculate trousers. “Well, I thought we could hang out, practise our magic tricks. If you’re not busy.”

  I reach up to rub the back of my neck, which has suddenly become tense. “Um, well, I’m staying at Lebz’s house tomorrow, and we’re going shopping on Saturday.”

  “Oh.” He clears his throat.

  An awkward silence follows. I don’t understand what just happened. We’re friends, we should be able to hang out. So why does this feel so charged?

  “It’s just that you’re so weak,” he says, out of the blue.

  “What?”

  He grins. “You’ve spent too much time hiding your powers instead of using them. You need to build your skills, especially if you want to help people.”

  “Help people?” I let out a derisive snort. “I’m not Wonder Woman.”

  “But you’re gifted,” he persists. “You have a responsibility.”

  I don’t like the word “responsibility”. It makes me think of babies and home loans. But my mind drifts to Amantle and I realise that the boy has a point. If I want to get to the bottom of the Ma-fourteen mystery, I’ll have to get better at using my gifts.

  “Do you hike?” he asks.

  That’s a good one. “Do I look like a hiker?”

  “No,” he replies thoughtfully. “You look like a couch potato. We should go up the hill one day. It’ll be fun.”

  I’m so horrified by this prospect that I start to cough. He gives me a few hard slaps on the back, but is otherwise unsympathetic.

  “You’re joking,” I finally splutter. “I can’t go up a hill. I’ll die!”

  “Of what?” he drawls. “Exposure to fresh air?”

  “Excuse me, I’m in great shape,” I protest, sucking in my not-quite washboard stomach. “I can walk from one end of town to the other with ease.”

  “Can you do push-ups?”

  “Why would I want to?”

  He shakes his head. “You can’t fight magic with that attitude. Have you ever seen a kick-ass heroine with love handles?”

  “Hey!” Just because he’s a mass of lean muscle doesn’t mean I should be, too. Aren’t women supposed to be soft?

  He takes a step back and studies me from head to toe, a speculative frown on his face. “You have good material. You just need a little definition.”

  I look down at my loose-fitting uniform. Now he has X-ray vision as well?

  “You need a strong cardiovascular system,” he continues relentlessly. “Supernatural gifts use up a lot of energy. Yes, you could definitely use a workout. Do you swim?”

  “I’m a great swimmer.” Take that, Mr Muscle.

  He leans back against the wall again. Something taps against the side of my shoe. I look down to see a large stone tumbling across the sand. I roll my eyes. “Show-off.”

  Rakwena grins. “What are you doing on Sunday?”

  “Not climbing any hills.”

  “Game City, ten o’clock,” he says, turning to leave.

  “I’m not coming,” I call after him, but he pays no attention. If he thinks he’s going to get me up a hill, he’s crazy.

  Lebz’s family is everything mine isn’t – big, loud and properly black. She has two sisters, ten-year-old Kenaleone and nineteen-year-old Rita, and a twenty-three-year-old brother, Mogapi, who lives with his fiancé and son. Rita goes to UB, but lives at home so she can abuse her government-sponsored student allowance.

  Today the place is a madhouse. Rita is getting ready to go out, Kena has friends over and Lebz’s father is about to leave for some corporate event.

  “Where’s my tie?” he shouts from the master bedroom.

  Mma Mogapi abandons the kitchen for the living room, where Lebz and I are trying to watch the soaps amidst all the noise. “Lebo, please keep an eye on the food.”

  Lebz jumps up, dragging me along with her. We can’t watch, anyway. Kena and company are putting on a fashion show and they keep strutting in front of the TV in their mismatched outfits.

  “It’s ready,” Lebz declares, lifting the lid of one of the pots. She turns everything off and grabs some plates.

  Her mother comes in a moment later, looking frazzled. “Thank you, my dear,” she says. “Go call your sister. There’s still time for the girls to eat before they go home.”

  But the sound of a car outside signals the arrival of Kena’s friends’ parents, and Lebz rushes off to get them while I help her mother with the food.

  “Why aren’t you going with Rra Mogapi?” I ask.

  She sighs. “If you could see the pile of marking I’ve done, you wouldn’t ask. I’m finished. The last thing I want to do is spend the night tottering around in heels, smiling at boring businesspeople.” She flashes me a mischievous grin.

  Mma Mogapi is cool. She doesn’t know about my gift – she’s just thinks I’m very perceptive, and I’m not going to rock the boat by setting her straight.

  Soon Lebz’s father drives off, then Rita’s friends arrive, blasting motswako from their explosive car speakers. Rita disappears into their cloud of coolness, and finally the house is quiet. After eating and washing up, I take Kena to a corner of the room and offer to let her braid my hair.

  Her face lights up. Then her eyes narrow. “You hate it when I braid your hair.”

  “Well, I’m feeling generous.” I catch Lebz rolling her eyes and choose to ignore her. “Go get your stuff.”

  “You’re using a child for your own selfish purposes,” Lebz hisses in my ear.

  “Shut up,” I hiss back. “I need to prepare myself for the pain I’m about to go through.”

  Kena skips away and reappears a moment later with her pink Hannah Montana box of hair accessories. I fake a smile. That box has made me hate Hannah Montana and everything she stands for, but today I’m on a mission. I sit down on the carpet and try not to cry as Kena pulls a pink plastic comb through my hair.

  “Maybe you should skip this part,” I gasp, and Lebz lets out a snort of laughter.

  “Oh, sorry,” whispers Kena. “I’ll be gentle.”

  “Thanks. So, Kena.” I glance at Lebz, who is pretending to watch TV. “You know a girl called Amantle?”

  “Everybody knows Amantle,” says Kena haughtily. “She’s like the coolest girl in Gabs.”

  I can’t help smiling at that. “I see. And her friends?”

  “Rose, Refilwe, Laone and Emily, yes.”

  “Three of them are in your school, right? What are they like?”

  “Stuck up,” she declares. “But they’re all pretty and have really nice clothes. They wear them on civvies day; designer clothes that their parents buy in South Africa.”

  “Right.” This isn’t exactly the kind of intel I was hoping for. “And they have special necklaces?”

  “Silver chains with a locket shaped like a flower. You can open it and put something inside, like a photo. But they don’t have photos in their necklaces.”

  I raise my eyebrows, my curiosity piqued. “What do they have?”

  “Well…” Kena is starting to get into her story. “Some people say they have diamonds in there, from Amantle’s boyfriend. He’s really old.”

  Lebz covers her mouth to muffle a snort of laughter.

  “And what else?”

  “Some people say they keep their con
tact lenses in there. Whenever they’re not in school they wear grey contact lenses; the whole group.”

  I frown. Grey contact lenses? That’s unusual. “Go on.”

  “That’s about it… no, wait. There’s this one girl, Penny, from America. She said she once saw Laone open her locket, and she saw something like a feather. But you can’t fit a feather in that small thing.”

  You could fit a very small feather – or part of a feather. I look at Lebz and she’s thinking the same thing. Feathers, fur and other organic matter are often used in muti. I get a funny feeling in my chest. The more I learn about these girls, the clearer it is that I can’t just stand by. My grandfather uses his gifts to help others. Maybe, as scary as the thought is, it’s time for me to do the same. Without my telepathy I might never have noticed Ma-fourteen. They’re just kids, only slightly older than Kena. How can I just rest on my laurels, knowing they could be in trouble?

  I let Kena finish braiding my hair, then she heads to her bedroom and Lebz and I settle down in the room she shares with Rita.

  “I really hope that Penny girl is wrong,” says Lebz, closing her door.

  “Me too. But I don’t think she is. Those girls are definitely up to no good.”

  Lebz shivers. “Ugh! Change the subject.”

  I straighten the duvet on Rita’s bed. If she’s home I usually share Lebz’s bed, but Rita won’t be home until tomorrow, so I’ll have her bed to myself.

  “Careful,” Lebz teases as I change into my shorts and old T-shirt. “You don’t know what’s in that bed. You might want to sterilise it.”

  “You’re terrible,” I gasp in mock horror, but she’s right. Rita’s cool, but she’s a bit of a wild child. I pull back the duvet and squint at the sheet, looking for suspicious stains, cigarette ashes or other signs of illicit activity. “All clear,” I announce.

  “Good. I got a new movie.” Lebz heads over to the PC in the corner.

  I’m afraid to ask, but sometimes it’s better to know what’s coming. “Does it have Martin Lawrence in it? Or Tyler Perry?” I don’t think I can stand to watch another man in old lady drag.

  “I wouldn’t do that to you,” she replies, leaning over the keyboard. “It’s a Nollywood movie.”

  “Oh!” I laugh in anticipation. I love Nigerian films. They’re hilarious, especially when they’re not trying to be.

  “So.” Lebz keeps her eyes on the screen as she waits for the computer to start up. “Lizard.”

  I sigh. “Rakwena.”

  “Whatever.” She moves the mouse back and forth over its pad. “Is he weird?”

  I bite my lip. I don’t know how much to divulge, so I stall. “Weird freaky or weird strange?”

  “You know what I mean, Connie. Weird freaky.” She clicks on the mouse.

  Rakwena will understand if I tell her, won’t he? It’s Lebz – she won’t tell anyone except Wiki, and he’s the last link in our chain. “Yes.”

  She turns to look at me, a spark of curiosity in her eyes. “Really? Like you?”

  I shake my head. “Telekinesis.”

  Lebz blinks, her expression blank.

  “Basically he can move things with his mind.”

  Her jaw drops. Her eyes widen. She’s speechless, for once.

  I smile. “I know. Cool, huh?”

  “O-K.” She shakes her head in disbelief. Lebz isn’t big on these things – they baffle her. “And you two are… what, exactly?”

  The question gets me flustered. “Friends, obviously.”

  “Not dating?” She’s looking at me now, trying to catch me out.

  “No!” Dating Rakwena? Ridiculous.

  “But you like him? Be honest.”

  Sigh. Can’t we just get to the movie? “I like him as a friend. He’s cool.”

  “And you don’t think he’s hot?”

  I laugh nervously. “Lebz!”

  She looks me dead in the eye. “Say there was no scar. He’s hot, right?”

  I take a deep breath and tear my gaze from hers. “I guess. But that doesn’t mean I want him.” Honestly, the boy is eye candy even with the scar, but so what? Why can’t a girl and a guy just be friends? Besides, I can’t even think about another guy while I’m still wrestling with my feelings for Thuli.

  Lebz frowns. “Look, just be careful. There’s something about him… like he’s got something to hide.”

  Oh, for goodness sake! This girl is worse than my father. “He does.” I lean back against the pillows. “Telekinesis, remember? Rakwena isn’t dangerous. I would have sensed it.”

  “Maybe.” She looks unconvinced. “But maybe he’s the usual kind of dangerous, the kind that breaks hearts. You might know more about the supernatural, but I know more about boys.”

  She has a point there. “He can’t break my heart if I don’t have feelings for him.”

  She gives me a knowing look. “Be careful. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “OK, OK.” I fling a stray sock at her. “Can we watch the movie now?”

  My mind is spinning. I don’t like Rakwena, not in the soppy, all-consuming way I like Thuli. He’s far too strange. He’s neater than me. He’s… well, he’s not Thuli. He doesn’t make me freeze up like an idiot when he walks past. He’s not aloof and above it all and too good for me. Thuli is an impossible dream. Thuli doesn’t see me. Rakwena does… and maybe that’s the problem.

  I’ve been awake for two hours when Lebz opens her eyes. I’m sitting up on Rita’s freshly-made bed, finishing my Business Studies homework. “Hello, Sleeping Beauty.”

  She turns over and yawns. “What’s the plan?”

  “Didn’t you want to go to the shops and waste some of your parents’ heard-earned money?” I ask sweetly.

  “Oh, ja.” She’s shameless. She sits up and rubs her eyes. “Just give me a minute to shower.”

  A minute for Lebz means an hour and a half. She has this baffling inability to multitask, so she’ll brush her teeth and then pause to think about what she’s going to wear.

  We have a jam-packed schedule. Lebz is a bargain-hunter, so she needs to check out every shop to make sure she can’t get a better deal. Her mother drops us off at BBS mall, and then we take a combi to the Main Mall.

  By the time we arrive at Riverwalk Mall a few hours later I remember why I hate shopping with Lebz. Today she has forced me to look at about fifty pair of jeans. I swear the only difference between them was a button or two. Then I had to wait while she tried on half of them. They all looked fine, but she didn’t buy a single one. Not one! From Riverwalk we’re heading to Game City. I’m tired and hungry and she’s just getting started!

  “Let’s check out the shoes,” says Lebz, as we cross the parking lot from the combi stop.

  “Food first!” I tug at her hand. “Unless you want me to collapse.”

  “But we can eat afterwards,” she says, pouting.

  “Lebz!”

  She sighs. “Fine! What do you want? Chicken?”

  My stomach growls. “Chicken is perfect.”

  We’ve just settled down at our table when five girls come and take a table not too far from us. They’re half-dressed and their eyes are grey and glassy.

  “Oh, no,” Lebz mutters. Her disgust with Ma-fourteen has matured into full-blown fear since her sister’s revelations last night. “Can’t they go somewhere else?”

  “Don’t complain – this is my chance to get a look at those necklaces,” I whisper.

  “You’ll never get near them. Amantle is like a watchdog.”

  “I’m just going to watch and wait. At some point I should be able to get close to them. Maybe I’ll pretend to go to the toilet or something.”

  Lebz says no more. Our food comes and we eat and chat, avoiding the subject of the girls. We finish long before them and we’ve just risen from our table when I see Rose and one of the others get up and leave the restaurant. They walk right past us.

  “I’ll be back.” I’m gone before Lebz can argue, and I make sur
e to stay some distance behind the girls.

  They enter the supermarket and pick up a basket. I follow them through the aisles, trying to be inconspicuous. It’s not hard – the shop is full of people. The girls stop in front of a fridge and load their basket with energy drinks. Hmmm… Are they planning to have a long, sleepless night? I get as close to them as I can and hide in the next aisle.

  “That’s enough, Laone.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Ja. We’ll get more later if we need them.”

  They speak in a monotone, as if they’re too tired to make much effort. I position myself right at the edge of the aisle so I’m in their path. I feign surprise as they almost bump into me. “Oh, hi.”

  Laone doesn’t respond, but something odd happens to Rose’s eyes. The grey film slips for a fraction of a second, and I see the emotion the glassy stare was hiding – fear. Then her zombie face comes back on.

  “Hello.” Her voice is cold and lifeless.

  “Who was that?” asks Laone, as they walk on.

  “Some girl from school.”

  Just before they reach the cashier Rose turns to look at me, and I know she’s the one who’s going to help me solve this mystery.

  I wait until she and Laone have left the shop before heading out to find Lebz. She’s browsing through DVDs. When I enter the shop she glowers at me.

  “Sorry,” I say sheepishly.

  She abandons the DVDs. “So what were they doing? Planting a bomb?”

  “Buying energy drinks. Must have a busy night ahead. And Rose is cracking.”

  “Cracking?” Lebz throws a wary glance over her shoulder. “What do you mean?”

  “When I greeted her, her eyes changed just long enough for me to see that she’s scared. She wants out, and I can help her.”

  Lebz takes my arm. Fear is coming off her body in waves. I can see the disjointed images in her head; vague shapes, dark and menacing. “Connie, you’re playing with fire. I think you should stay out of it.”

  “I can’t!” I pull my arm away. “They’re obviously being controlled by someone. They’re just kids, Lebz, not much older than Kena. Can you imagine her under some kind of supernatural influence, walking around like a robot?”

  “Let’s talk about this later.” There’s a tremor in her voice.