“LIZARD!” It comes out more frantic shriek than composed shout, but oh, well.
He turns around, his eyes wide with dismay. “What? What’s wrong?”
“You, of course.” I roll my eyes and march over to him. “You’re hopelessly wrong, as usual. Your feelings are… I mean… well… I appreciate them.”
He stares at me. “Thank you. Night, Connie.”
“No, wait!” I grab his hand. “Eish! Fine. Can we just do this already?”
He raises his eyebrows. “Do what?”
“You know.” I look at the floor, the door, his sneakers, my flip flops. “Date.”
“Why?”
Trust Rakwena to make this as difficult as he can. “Because I… I…” Deep breath. OK. Take two. “Because I like you, too.”
His grin has reached a new level of obnoxiousness. I should slap it off his face. “I’m sorry. I think I must have heard you wrong. Could you repeat that?”
“Absolutely not,” I growl.
He heaves a theatrical sigh. “Too bad. I was really hoping we could clear this up tonight, but…”
I throw myself into his arms and kiss him properly, without any thought of the consequences. The tingle goes right through me as he pulls me close. I feel like a supernova, from my tingling eyelids to my tingling toes. When I pull away he’s smiling, pompous fool. “Is that clear enough?” I ask breathlessly.
“Crystal,” he chuckles.
“So we’re official now?” I have to ask, to make sure. You never know with this guy. “You know… like… a couple?”
“Unless you’d rather be kissing cousins.”
“Yuck.” I’m feeling a little giddy as I make myself comfortable in his arms. I rather like being here – I could get used to it.
“You do know that tomorrow is Valentine’s Day,” he goes on. “I was thinking we could take a long, romantic walk, then maybe a candle-lit –”
“Don’t push your luck, Lizzie,” I mutter, resting my head on his chest. “I don’t do walks or candles or stuffed animals or chocolate hearts.”
He chuckles softly, then lifts my head with his finger and kisses me again. Tingle, tingle, tingle.
I’m dreaming of a beautiful park. It’s familiar, but this isn’t Botswana – there are too many towering trees thick with greenery. I’m sitting on the grass with a book in my lap. I’m wearing one of those flimsy knee-length dresses my mother loved to wear.
A guy comes up to me; about twenty or so. I raise my hand to shield my eyes from the sun so I can see him properly. He’s well-built, dressed in formal clothing. He asks me for the time. I look down at my watch, which is odd because I haven’t owned a watch since I was about seven.
And that’s when it happens. The dream shifts, not in that fluid way that dreams usually do, but with jarring abruptness. Suddenly I’m in a deserted parking lot in a seedy area with graffiti scrawled across the concrete. The guy is perched on a high wall opposite me. No human should be able to crouch like that, shoulders raised, legs curled like a cat about to pounce. His head is turned to the left, as if he’s waiting for someone.
It’s not long before the “someone” arrives. Another young man, and another, and another, a steady stream pouring into the parking lot. Fear paralyses me. This doesn’t feel like a dream any more. I’m aware of my body lying stiff in my bed, my pulse racing.
The guy from the park jumps off the wall and joins the others. Line after line of figures, exuding power and menace. As one body, they turn to face me. Their eyes are covered by a grey film, every last one. I turn to run, but the Puppetmaster is standing right behind me.
“What do you think?” he asks in that eerie effeminate voice.
My eyes spring open. I push myself up in bed, breathing hard. That was no dream – that was a premonition. I turn to look at my crystal. It’s on my bedside table, emitting a comforting glow. As I watch it starts to shine brightly, filling the dark room with Rakwena’s blue light, and despite the horror of my premonition and my still-racing heart, I smile. Honestly, that boy never sleeps.
I take the crystal and hold it against my chest, replaying the premonition in my mind. The Puppetmaster is alive and well, and building another army. I don’t know what comes next. I don’t know whether I’ll find the Puppetmaster. One thing I do know is that I’m not alone.
I close my eyes and rest my chin on the crystal, secure in Rakwena’s energy. Maybe by the time morning comes, I’ll be Superwoman. Or maybe I’ll still be Conyza Bennett, freak with a stubborn streak. And maybe that will be enough.
GLOSSARY
Ag / Eish: an expression of frustration or exasperation
Braai: barbecue
Grandpa: common painkiller usually sold in powder form
Ntatemogolo: Grandfather
Thokolosi: a small, hairy magical creature or demon believed to be the servant of witches
Muti: traditional medicine made from various herbs, or sometimes animal or human parts
Sies: exclamation of disgust
Lekgoa: White person
Motswako: local music genre, a blend of hip-hop and kwaito
Doek: headscarf
Tsotsi: thief / gangster
Mahala: free
Stoep: veranda
CARINA™
ISBN: 978 1 472 04453 2
ENTWINED
Copyright © Cheryl S. Ntumy 2013
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Entwined Page 31