Entwined

by Cheryl S. Ntumy

  Chapter Nineteen

  I’m standing in front of Rakwena’s house, watching the gate slide open. He’s waiting for me at the door in shorts and a T-shirt, shaking his head.

  “Did you miss me already?” he asks with a grin.

  “I just wanted to say hi,” I protest. I push past him into the house and he ruffles my hair as I pass.

  “At seven in the morning?” he asks on his way to the kitchen.

  “It’s nine-thirty,” I reply, following him. “Have you had breakfast?”

  “Yes, mummy,” he says in a sing-song voice. “And I took a bath and brushed my teeth. All by myself, too!”

  “Ha ha.” I open the fridge and help myself to a glass of orange juice. “I thought we could do some research together. I even brought Wiki’s file.”

  He groans. “It’s the weekend! I was looking forward to watching movies on my computer all day.”

  “Well, you’ll never get anywhere with that attitude,” I tell him brightly. “Come on. We might as well do some work, since I came all this way… and then I promise to leave you alone.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Fine. Give me a minute.” He leaves the kitchen and heads down the corridor, disappearing into one of the rooms.

  I finish my juice, wash the glass and turn back to the living room, but then I change my mind and decide that this might be my only chance to take a look around the house. I slip off my sneakers and tiptoe into the corridor in my socks. Rakwena went into the last room in the corridor, so I assume that’s his bedroom. I walk towards the first room. The door is closed. I reach for the handle and turn it very, very slowly, then peer inside. Ag, it’s only the bathroom.

  I move on to the next room on the other side of the corridor. It’s locked, so I try the one next to it. The door opens with a creak. Afraid that Rakwena will hear me, I shut it quickly. The next door leads to the master bedroom, but there’s nothing in it besides the bed, which has been stripped of its linen. I close the door. The only room left is Rakwena’s.

  As I look at it, I realise that the door is slightly ajar. I know it’s wrong. I know it’s weird and creepy to peek into people’s bedrooms but I can’t help myself. I’m curious. I move towards the door and peer into the crack. I can see Rakwena sitting on the edge of his bed. He’s fully dressed, thank goodness, and he’s reaching for some kind of black box. It’s flat and wide, like a small briefcase. He opens it, but I can’t see the contents. His arms are moving, getting something out of the case. I press myself against the door to get a closer look. He holds out his right arm, pumps his fist a few times, then runs his finger down his arm, the way the nurses do when searching for a vein. My gaze shifts and comes to rest on the syringe in his other hand. I gasp, putting more weight the door than I meant to. It swings open and Rakwena’s head snaps up. His eyes widen and his hands drop into his lap.

  “What the –”

  “I’m sorry,” I gulp. “I didn’t mean to… I was…” He’s a drug addict. That explains why his hands were shaking, and why… no, actually, it doesn’t explain very much.

  His initial expression of shock and embarrassment fades and his calm mask slides back on. “You should really learn to knock, Connie.”

  “I’m sorry.” I shake my head, confused. “What the hell are you doing?”

  He sighs. “Taking my medicine.” He empties the syringe into his arm, then removes a surgical wipe from the packet in the case, cleans the syringe and puts it back.

  “Your… medicine?” I stare at the case lying open on the bed. Besides a few more syringes and a packet of sterile needles, there’s also cotton wool, the wipes and several glass vials of clear liquid. Oh my God. He’s dying!

  All sorts of horrible thoughts are going through my mind. I don’t know enough about these things to be able to guess what might be wrong with him. This can’t be happening. He’s Rakwena, he’s superhuman! I can’t lose him, not like this…

  I rush to his side and then stop short. The medical paraphernalia is freaking me out. “Rakwena, you should have told me! How bad is it? What’s wrong?”

  To my surprise, he laughs. He leans over to close the case. “I’m not dying, Connie. It’s nothing. I have a… chemical imbalance, so I have to take medicine to correct it. It’s like taking antihistamines for allergies. It’s nothing.”

  “Oh!” I’m so relieved I have to stand still for a minute, letting my heart rate return to normal. The thudding in my head fades as I catch my breath. A chemical imbalance. I don’t know what that means, but it sounds a hell of a lot better than some syndrome named after a scientist. “Oh, right. That’s why you need to eat so much, and why you need so much sugar! I get it.” I roll my eyes heavenward, my panic replaced by annoyance. “Honestly, you idiot – you could have just told me.”

  He shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. Besides, it’s a bit embarrassing, you know. A big, tough guy like me doesn’t want anyone to know his weakness.” He grins. “But you won’t tell, will you?”

  “Of course not.” Thank God! Thank God he’s not a drug addict or terminally ill. I don’t know what I would have done. I perch cautiously on the edge of the bed, away from the medicine case. “So you have to take this stuff every day?”

  “Yep. It’s not so bad. Like insulin for a diabetic, you know?” He gets up and takes my hand. “Shouldn’t we get to that research now?”

  “Oh, sure.” I sneak a look at him, but he seems fine. I’m glad I peeked into his room. I’m glad I found out one more of his secrets. He’s not as strong as I thought, and although that frightens me, maybe it’s a good thing. Maybe it means he’s more human… and less dangerous.

  We start off reading the file, then end up chatting. I suspect he might be trying to distract me from asking questions about his condition. It works. We’re in the middle of a debate about traditional versus Western medicine in the context of life-threatening disease when my phone rings. It’s an unfamiliar number, so I hesitate before answering.

  “Is… is this Connie?” The voice is female, and she’s speaking in a whisper as if afraid of being overheard.

  “Yes. Who’s this?” The pause that follows is so long that I lose my patience. “Look, if this is some kind of prank –”

  “It’s Emily.”

  For a second I’m too shocked to respond. I turn to Rakwena, my eyes wide, then put her on loudspeaker. “Emily? Are you OK? Where are you?”

  “I’m fine.” She sounds terrified. “For now. I’m sorry to call… Rose gave me your number. I have to talk to you. It’s urgent.”

  A frown creases Rakwena’s face. I shrug, wondering what on earth could be so important that she couldn’t tell Rose, but had to call me directly. “Are you in trouble?”

  “I need to see you. Today.”

  “OK. I could come to Ramotswa…” I glance at Rakwena and he nods.

  “No!” she gasps, then lowers her voice again. “No, um, I’m coming into town this afternoon with my uncle. Meet me near Kgale Mews at… um… four-thirty. Please!”

  “OK, but can’t you tell me what’s –”

  “I have to go. Please come! I –” The connection cuts. I hope it’s because she ran out of airtime, and not because something happened to her.

  I put my phone away and turn to Rakwena. “I don’t know whether to be relieved or worried.”

  “Worried. Definitely.”

  I ask to use his landline, then ask Lebz and Wiki to meet us at Game City at three-thirty. Afterwards I call Dad to tell him I’ll be at Rakwena’s till late, watching movies. He’s not happy, but I manage to win him over.

  “Do you think she’ll turn up?” asks Rakwena.

  “I hope so.” I’m dying to know what Emily wants to tell me, and I’m also thinking that this might be my last chance to get her necklace.

  Lebz and Wiki turn up a few minutes late. The four of us buy ice cream and sit down to strategise.

  “I’m scared already,” says Lebz, licking her ice cream. “Please don’t tell me we’re go
ing to try and get the last three necklaces all at once.”

  “I wish we could.” I shake my head. “The Puppetmaster’s been too quiet lately – I’m sure he must be trying to fill the gaps Emily and Rose left in his army. Maybe that’s what Emily wants to tell me – maybe she knows something. Anyway, I’m going after her necklace. I have to try.”

  Wiki clears his throat. “In that case, page 35 might interest you.” He opens the file and turns it towards us.

  “Read it aloud,” suggests Lebz, leaning towards me so she can get a better look.

  I clear my throat and begin at the top of the page. “‘General Symptoms of Sophisticated Mind-Control’.” I look up at Wiki, who nods for me to continue. “‘There are two kinds of symptoms – physical and psychological. Physically, the victims tend to have glassy, unfocused eyes, vastly increased speed and agility, superhuman strength, and some weight loss. The longer they are under the mind-control technique, the more their bodies change. Some have been known to withstand extreme torture because they have a reduced sensitivity to pain. They can perform astounding feats, such as jumping several metres in the air, running at high speeds for long periods and carrying objects up to twice their own weight.’”

  “Ja, né?” Lebz shakes her head in disbelief.

  “‘Psychologically, the victims are emotionally unresponsive, unable to connect with other people or situations. Their actions become robotic. If they are threatened, they fight back with the same cold, methodical attitude. If, however, the threat is not to them but to the object that possesses them, be it an amulet of some sort or some other device, they become aggressive and vicious, like a mother tiger protecting her cubs.’ Wiki, I appreciate this, but we already know this stuff.” I look up from the file.

  “Keep reading,” he replies.

  I sigh. “‘The one weakness displayed in victims of mind-control is the inability to compensate for missing senses. Their controller sees the world through their eyes, and once their vision is cut off, so is their controller. In the midst of this uncertainty, they become vulnerable to attack.’” I look up. “You want me to put Emily’s eyes out?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” says Wiki impatiently, taking back the file. “You just have to come up with a way to cover her eyes.”

  “How?” I slurp up the last of my ice cream. “Jump on her and blindfold her?”

  “I think I see where Wiki’s going with this,” says Rakwena thoughtfully. “We don’t have to make her blind. We just have to make her think she’s blind.”

  “Ah!” I’m excited by this new telepathic challenge.

  “Sounds difficult to me,” Lebz mutters. “Can you do that, Connie?”

  “I’ve never tried,” I admit, “but there’s a first time for everything. Who wants to be my guinea pig?”

  Wiki is suddenly engrossed in the file, Lebz is frowning at her phone and Rakwena has become fascinated by the posters outside the nearby cinema.

  “Really, guys? Is this the kind of support I can expect from my friends?”

  “It’ll have to be Rakwena,” Lebz declares. “Wiki and I are easy. He’s the only one who can block you, and that’s what Emily will be doing. He’s perfect.” She grins at him and he scowls back.

  “There’s no time to practise,” Wiki announces, checking his watch.

  He’s right. I have five minutes to get to Kgale Mews. We all hurry to Rakwena’s car and he takes us through the parking lot and across the street to the office blocks on the other side. Kgale Mews is one of the last complexes on the left side of the road. I ask him to park in the next lot; I don’t want to make Emily nervous, but my friends will be close enough to see if something goes wrong.

  I jump out of the car and walk across to the Kgale Mews parking lot. There are only three cars there, and no sign of Emily. I hope she comes. I know how skittish she is, but she sounded desperate over the phone and I’m worried that if I don’t get to her today, the Puppetmaster will get her back in his clutches.

  Five minutes pass. Ten. I’m starting to get nervous when I finally see her emerge from the building, shoulders hunched, hands in the pockets of her denim jacket. She doesn’t look anything like the Emily I met before. Her jeans are scuffed, her sneakers are dirty and her hair is plaited in simple cornrows. She looks thinner, and scared.

  She smiles at me. “You came.”

  “Of course I did.” I drop my gaze to her neck, but I don’t see a chain and there’s no tell-tale bulge beneath her T-shirt. Is it possible? I’m afraid to hope. “Emily, where’s your necklace?”

  “Hm? Oh.” She runs her hand along her collarbone wistfully. “My grandmother took it while I was asleep. She said it would attract criminals. I have no idea where she put it!” She scowls. “I’ll find it, though. Connie, I don’t have much time. My uncle’s inside and I’m not allowed to talk to any of my Gabs friends. If he sees us he’ll tell on me, and I’ll be in so much trouble.”

  I’m barely listening – all I can focus on is the fact that her necklace is off. I’m so relieved that I wrap her in a brief, awkward hug. I’d rather the necklace was safely in Ntatemogolo’s hands, but having it off Emily is more than I could have hoped for.

  She gives me a funny look when I pull away. I lead her round the side of the building, out of sight of the entrance. “What’s going on? Why did you need to see me?”

  She glances over her shoulder. “Amantle’s been calling me. She’s angry that I left, but I tried to explain that it wasn’t my fault. Anyway, we’re supposed to meet there today.” She points towards the foot of Kgale Hill, a short distance from where we stand.

  “Why?”

  Emily shrugs. “She didn’t want to tell me over the phone, but it sounds like a big deal. I told her I’d come.” She looks at me with pleading eyes. “You have to follow them and find out what they’re doing. I’m scared that something terrible is going to happen!”

  I nod. “I’ll be there, don’t worry. But what about you?”

  “I don’t want to be anywhere near this place when they show up,” she replies with a grimace. “You don’t know what it’s like, Connie. Even though the necklace is gone, I can still feel it. It wants me to go back to them!”

  The sound of a male voice startles us.

  “My uncle,” she whispers. “I’d better go. Promise me you’ll keep an eye on the other girls.”

  “I promise.” She nods once and I watch her run round the corner. A few minutes later I hear the sound of an engine, and a dark green Honda pulls out of the parking lot. Emily is in the passenger seat; a middle-aged man is driving. She looks at me and gives me an almost imperceptible nod, and then she’s gone. Away from the rest of Ma-fourteen, away from the Puppetmaster and his bloody necklaces. Safe.

  I hurry back to Rakwena’s car and fill everyone in. We decide to wait for the girls to show up. It’s Amantle we spot first, almost forty-five minutes later. She’s alone, walking quickly up the incline towards the hill.

  “Come on,” I tell them. “We’re going after her.”

  The four of us get up and follow Amantle. After a few minutes it starts to look like the others aren’t coming. Amantle keeps moving, right past the place where the road curves to the left. She turns right and walks up the dirt path beyond the last block of offices.

  I turn to Lebz and Wiki. “You guys head back to the car, and keep your eyes open. If the other girls turn up, watch them. We’ll keep in touch every thirty minutes. I’m going up the hill.”

  “What?” cries Lebz. “But it’ll be dark soon! What if you get lost?”

  “I won’t.” I’m already walking away.

  With an exasperated sigh, Rakwena drops his car keys in Lebz’s hand and hurries after me. When I glance back, Lebz and Wiki are far away. Rakwena and I keep our distance, lagging behind Amantle as she moves upwards, climbing the rocky hill. She hasn’t looked back, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t know she’s being followed.

  “Where is she going?” I wonder breathlessly, try
ing to keep up with Rakwena.

  “Good question. I can’t imagine what could be at the top of this hill.”

  For a long time we don’t speak, conserving our breath for the uphill climb. Bit by bit the daylight is fading. I don’t like the idea of being out here at night, but I don’t see what choice we have. We have to find out what Amantle is up to.

  “It’s been half an hour,” says Rakwena suddenly.

  I reach into my pocket for my phone. The reception is poor, and when Lebz picks up I can’t make out a word she’s saying. I hang up and send a sms instead: “we’re ok”, then pocket the phone. Amantle moves like a mountain goat and it soon becomes clear that she’s not heading to the top of the hill. In fact, she seems to be moving in circles.

  “Why doesn’t she just go round the bottom?” I ask through clenched teeth.

  “Maybe she’s trying to shake us off or wear us out,” suggests Rakwena.

  “It’s working.”

  “We have to get her to stop so we can talk to her.” He looks at me. “Can you plant from this distance, with all the bushes and rocks in the way?”

  I look doubtfully through the trees, making out Amantle’s silvery white jeans. “I don’t know.”

  “Try.”

  I hold her image in my head and make an attempt to reach her. She’s so far away! Her mind seems hidden, obscured by mist. The distance is too great.

  “You can do it.” Rakwena touches my hand. “Just focus.”

  The mist starts to clear, and I can see the barrier. It looks like it’s made of concrete. I’m searching for weak points, but there seem to be none.

  “Connie, fight!”

  I’m trying! I keep my eyes closed, holding her face in my mind, directing every ray of my energy at her. On and on I go, pushing with all my might against the barrier. The crack is so small that I almost miss it, but at least there is a crack. I send my power through it, but this crack isn’t like the others. Instead of opening up to let me in, it starts to close around my probing mind. I take deep breaths from my belly, expanding my power, swelling it up so it forces the crack open. Finally, just when I’m considering withdrawing, the crack splits a little wider and I slip into Amantle’s mind.