“Mzi, I just don’t want you to turn into Themba –”
“Shut up! You’re a lonely bitch!” he screamed. “Go find yourself a boyfriend and stop thinking about me!”
She looked at him as if he had just hit her. Then she walked out without another word.
He felt a pain in his heart. It was her fault, she should have known not to speak about Themba like that, he thought to himself. She made him get angry.
But he lay awake in the dark for a long time, long after his sister had stopped crying and had fallen asleep.
Chapter 14
Mzi watched Vuyo drinking at Mama’s Tavern, getting the courage he needed to confront Olwethu. What would his friend do? Mzi couldn’t stay at home when the action was going down. He had decided to come out to make sure Vuyo didn’t overstep the mark. It felt good to be out at night. Good and dangerous. But Mzi liked that. When there was danger and adrenalin he didn’t have to think. The less he had to think the better, because his thoughts crowded in so fast – thoughts of his sister, of Themba and of his mother and father who had passed away.
But as he stood there watching in the shadows he started thinking about Olwethu. He knew that Olwethu was working long hours after school at his uncle’s garage to support his family. His mother and father had died, and he lived with his grandmother, who was a pensioner, and his little sister. If Mzi took Olwethu out, who would hold Olwethu’s family together? Then he shook himself mentally. The old Mzi would never have felt any sympathy, where were these thoughts coming from? He had another beer from his bag. That was better. He just wouldn’t think about it. Olwethu should never have done what he did, fetched the police like that. And besides, Olwethu wasn’t the only one who had troubles.
* * *
The customers at Mama’s were unwinding after work and sharing news and gossip. “Young man, aren’t you Dabane’s son?” an old man asked Vuyo as Mzi watched.
“No, tata,” Vuyo replied. “I don’t even know who Dabane is.”
“But why do you drink so fast as if your drinks will be snatched away from you? Relax,” continued the old man.
“Tata, it’s best I don’t tell you.”
It was nearly 6.30 p.m. when Vuyo left Mama’s and Mzi could see that his friend had drunk too much, too fast. Mzi watched as his friend felt for something in his pocket. Damn, he had brought a gun. And Mzi had said not to use it – that if anyone was going to use a gun it would be him. But now he could see the doubt on Vuyo’s face. He should have known Vuyo was a coward. He relied on his gun. Would he be up to a physical fight? Would he be able to resist using his gun? Mzi had to be there to make sure.
He followed Vuyo through the dark streets, keeping his hood down low over his face.
When he reached the spaza shop near Olwethu’s uncle’s garage, Vuyo stopped. Olwethu passed this way on his way home. Vuyo had told Mzi that. Vuyo waited. And Mzi waited in the shadows.
Mzi saw Olwethu before Vuyo did. There he was, coming towards Vuyo now, walking slowly. As he got close Vuyo came out of the shadows. He gripped Olwethu’s jacket. “Hey, wenzani, Vuyo!”
Olwethu pushed him away to try to free himself.
Getting closer to Olwethu, he said, “Idiot. Uzenz’u-clever. Who do you think you are?” Vuyo was shouting and stabbed Olwethu’s chest with his finger. Mzi had said provoke him, so that Olwethu made the first move. Vuyo’s shout had attracted a group of passers-by. More people stopped to see what was happening and soon there was a small crowd. It was like an accident: one car crashed and suddenly the whole lane had come to a halt to watch. The crowd opened a circle around them. Nobody noticed Mzi hanging back on the edge of the circle.
“Njandini! You and Ntombi set up Mzi to be arrested.” Vuyo grabbed Olwethu again by the collar and stopped short of head-butting him.
“Don’t come here to threaten me,” said Olwethu quietly, but with a warning edge to his voice.
“Voetsek!” said Vuyo in a raised voice. Then he head-butted Olwethu, who staggered backwards. But he wasn’t down. The crowd was cheering now. Mzi saw Vuyo unsteady, swaying now, and cursed. His friend was making a mess of this. It was all Mzi could do to hold himself from breaking into the ring.
Then Olwethu unleashed a solid right klap right across Vuyo’s face, and it sent him sprawling to the ground. It was powerful for a guy who wasn’t weighty. The whole street was watching them, young and old. One girl shouted for Olwethu to punch Vuyo.
Mzi watched Vuyo struggling to get up.
“Come on,” he hissed in the dark. This was pathetic. But Vuyo was dazed. He was like a boxer seeing darkness and flashes of light. He got up and wobbled towards the concrete slab wall.
“I’ll shoot you!” He put his right hand inside his jacket as if he was going to take out a gun. His nose was bleeding profusely and his lower lip was a cut.
“Ndim lo, dubula.”
“Just say it again.” Vuyo brought the gun out. There was a shout from the crowd.
Mzi shouted then, “Put it away, Vuyo!” But his voice was lost in the crowd.
Vuyo unlocked the gun’s safety catch. “I’ll shoot you!” he said.
The crowd screamed, and moved further and further back. “Shoot him. You’ll know us,” shouted one woman coming closer.
Olwethu moved closer to Vuyo. “Hey, stay where you are! Don’t move!” said Vuyo, waving the gun wildly.
Olwethu spoke slowly and calmly. “Vuyo, listen to me. You’ll be a fool to carry on doing this useless thing. Do you really want to sit in jail because of me? What are you going to gain by fighting me? What’s Mzi promising you, money, fame? Stop now. Stop while you still can.”
“Don’t get close to me. I’ll shoot you!” Vuyo shouted, his voice getting squeaky.
“Vuyo, just go home,” said Olwethu.
“Go home, njandini!” the crowd cheered.
All Mzi could do was watch as Vuyo turned, like a dog with its tail between its legs, and staggered away to the jeers of the crowd. Mzi only then noticed Priscilla’s car nearby, saw Vuyo stumble towards it, and then saw the car roar off, leaving Vuyo swaying, left behind. Priscilla doesn’t like losers, thought Mzi. And right now Vuyo is a loser. He was so angry he wanted to klap Vuyo himself. It was time to finish off Olwethu himself.
Chapter 15
“Raai! Raai! Raai! Raai! Have you heard about what happened last night?” Tuksie confronted Mzi as he came through the school gates. She knew everything at school. No secret was safe with Tuksie and she loved spreading rumours, even about her friends. So she couldn’t wait to see Mzi; she had been waiting for him. “Guess what happened last night. That pathetic friend of yours was given a thrashing by Olwethu. Why are you sending others to do your dirty work for you? Shame on you!”
Some younger boys heard her. “What do we call it when an unarmed man beats a man with a gun? Who’s got a dictionary?” They laughed.
“It’s like killing a lion with your bare hands. Take-five!” a boy answered. Mzi moved away, furious, not wanting to hear any more.
But he couldn’t get away from it. At break time everyone was talking about how Olwethu humiliated Vuyo. Everyone was saying Mzi was behind it. And that he was too much of a coward – he got someone else to do his dirty work for him.
“Is it true?” one of his old crew asked. And when he didn’t answer, the guy walked away.
“So, kudalekeni ngoVuyo last night?” asked the thin skinny boy. Just the sound of his voice annoyed Mzi.
“Don’t start. I didn’t come here to be laughed at.”
“Don’t you think Vuyo is making you look weak?”
Mzi was just about to punch him – he had had enough – when Thandi called him. “Meneer needs you in the classroom,” she said. “He said it is urgent.” But when Mzi got to the classroom it was empty.
“What was that?” s
aid Mzi.
“You had to get away from there, I could see,” Thandi said, “before you punched someone.”
“I can’t let them mock me much longer,” said Mzi. “They’ve got to learn respect.” He spat out the words.
“Strength isn’t your fists, it’s what’s inside,” said Thandi. “Those boys are cowards, full of big talk. Pointing the first finger … like they haven’t done anything wrong, ever.”
“If you think I’m going to sit down and have a conversation with them, you’re wrong,” replied Mzi angrily. “Who do you think you are?”
He could see he had upset her, and she was out of the classroom before he could stop her. She’s just too on my case, he thought to himself. Good to chase her away.
Later, during Maths, when the teacher wasn’t there, he heard raised voices at the back of the class amongst a group of girls. Usually he ignored them but he saw that Thandi was amongst them, and that she looked like she wasn’t having a good time.
He went closer.
“So we know why you don’t want to tell us about where you come from, Thandi,” said Tuksie. “My brother told me he remembers you.”
“Shut up!” said Thandi. But Tuksie was enjoying herself.
“You are the girl whose parents didn’t even love her,” said Tuksie. “The little girl whose parents locked her up inside during the day and then outside in the night.”
“And whose mother was so drunk she was even an umarhosha to get money for alcohol,” added another girl.
“So who do you think you are then?” said Tuksie. “Telling us what’s right and what’s wrong?”
Mzi waited for the sting from Thandi’s tongue, that strong voice that had defended him in the past. But nothing came. Instead she pushed past them and rushed outside.
The girls laughed and gave each other high-fives – “That’ll teach her,” said one. Mzi looked out of the window and saw Thandi facing the wall as if it was a close friend. He realised she was probably crying.
He found himself wanting to go out to her. He had suddenly remembered her mother, the lipstick smeared thick around her lips, the alcohol smell on her breath. Were there any brothers or sisters? He tried to remember.
But he was Mzi, there was no way he could go up to a crying girl and give her comfort. So he ignored the pull in his heart.
But he couldn’t concentrate when she didn’t show up in class later. He worked alone without a partner in Life Sciences for a new assignment as no one else volunteered to partner with him. He felt lonely.
When the siren sounded for the end of school Mzi found himself hanging around the entrance waiting to see Thandi. Just to see if she was OK. She had disappeared. Then he told himself that he was a fool to care.
“Your girlfriend’s outside,” a boy told him. “She’s waiting for you.” For a split second Mzi thought he was talking about Thandi, and his heart raced. Then he saw Priscilla’s car. She was waving.
“Hey, sweet potato, let’s cruise. Are you game?” she asked as he came over.
“Ja, sure.” He jumped in. As she steered out between the taxi’s hooting, he looked back to see Thandi behind the school gates, watching. He was torn. Part of him wanted to leap out of the car and go to her, tell her he was sorry the girls had said those things. The other told himself that she could go to hell with her stupid advice, and that she should stop telling people what was right and wrong. She was no fun anyway. He felt something shifting again deep inside him and it made him uneasy.
“I’ve been missing you,” Priscilla said sweetly. Mzi didn’t believe a word – he had left more than one message for her – but right now it was good to be in the car feeling the wind rush by.
Priscilla parked the car on an open piece of land on the edge of the township. She took out a cooler bag full of cold beer. The seats were reclined. “Just what I was dying for. How did you know I needed a cold beer?” he joked.
They had one beer and he was just beginning to relax and forget about Thandi and her caring. He was glad Priscilla didn’t mention Vuyo, didn’t mention the drugs. Maybe she did care for him. Just then her phone beeped. She laughed as she read the message. Then she gulped down her second beer.
“Mzi, it’s home time now. Before it’s dark, remember,” she said, standing up.
He was humiliated as she drove him back to his house. He stared out the window silently.
“Sorry, sweetie,” she said pulling up outside the house. “I was planning to have some fun with you but I got a message from Mzobbish. He needs to see me.”
“I’m not good enough for you now,” he said.
“It’s not that, darling.”
“But I can’t give you what they can.” He got out of the car and slammed the door.
“Don’t be like that, sweetie,” she said. “But you have to be a bit more clever, you know. I heard that you lost the drugs. Lucky you paid for them otherwise Mzobbish would be after you.” And then she gave her fake smile and blew him a kiss as she took off.
Who was Priscilla to mock him like that? He wished he had more beer to wash away the bitterness in his heart.
Chapter 16
That night as he slept Mzi turned this way and that and shouted out in his sleep. “Themba!” After he called out his brother’s name he woke up sweating. His sister was in the doorway. They had hardly spoken since he had sworn at her, but he had tried to be polite, not flare up at her. He had even made her tea sometimes, and had twice watched her favourite soapie, Generations, with her.
Now she came over and sat on the bed, like he was a small boy. “It’s OK,” she said. He didn’t tell her to go away – in fact it felt safe, her being there – and he fell asleep again.
This time he saw Thandi’s face. She was trying to tell him something but he couldn’t hear her. Then he was pointing the gun. But it wasn’t at Olwethu. The cold steel was against his lips. He was trying to kill himself. And Thandi was trying to stop him.
He woke up shivering. His sister had long gone, and he was alone in the dark like a frightened little boy.
At school he couldn’t shake off the fear inside him. What had he become?
As he walked down the corridor, his mind full of troubled thoughts, he bumped into a grade 11 boy.
“Look where you’re going!” the boy shouted, then looked around to see who was watching. “Didn’t you hear me? Look where you’re going!”
Mzi lunged at him and he dodged aside nimbly.
“I’m not scared of you, Mr Mzi Mlongeni,” he jeered. “You just sit at home with your remote control – and tell people to do your dirty business.”
Some boys had gathered around them, drawn by the shouts. The boy obviously liked the audience. “But your remote control’s not working, is it, Mr Mzi? So now you’re at home like a little boy while the man who caused all your trouble is even in bed with your girl.” Some boys laughed.
Mzi ran at him, he wanted to punch and kick him, kill him. Who was he to call Mzi a coward? But three of Mzi’s classmates grabbed him, pulling on him and holding his arms.
“He wants to make trouble for you,” said one. The boy had hidden behind a group of girls, peeping round to see what Mzi would do. Mzi struggled to get out of his classmates’ grip. “Ndifun’ umngquba,” he panted. “Leave me!” But then the boy gave a cheery wave and ran off to a nearby classroom, just as the principal came along the corridor.
The classmates let Mzi go and he stormed off. The worst part was that the boy had voiced his thoughts. He knew he shouldn’t have asked Vuyo to get to Olwethu, his first instinct had been right. And now everyone was laughing at him. It was too much.
It was time.
He reached for his cellphone. He spoke low and quietly. Suddenly he felt very clear. He was putting his plan into action. He was taking charge.
“Do you understand what I’m asking y
ou to do?” he asked Priscilla.
“Yes, Mzi darling. And I’m looking forward to it.”
“Good.”
“Mzi. You’re the man again, sweetie. You can count on me.”
* * *
When he got home that afternoon he felt full of energy. He saw the papers that Thandi had brought him. There was no room for school in his life! He threw them down in the corner. Something fell out from between them.
It was a card with something drawn on it. He held it up. It was a pencil drawing of a bird flying out of a cage into the sky. It was beautiful – she was a real artist. In the corner was written:
He thought of Priscilla doing what he had told her to. Phoning Ntombi and putting everything in motion. It was too late now. Besides, there was no truth in a card. It was just fanciful words. That bird was fragile. That bird would be shot down – or put back in its cage before it even reached the clouds … No, Thandi lived in a dream world. And now he had joined the real one.
Chapter 17
Ntombi saw Priscilla’s flashy BMW parked outside Mama’s Tavern. Why had Priscilla chosen Mama’s? Perhaps it was just her usual drinking place. Perhaps she really did want to make up? On the phone she had been friendly. She had told Ntombi that she was sorry for how she had treated her.
But Ntombi was still nervous. Her heart started pounding. Ntombi had told Olwethu that she was meeting Priscilla and he was ready to come at any time if she SMSed him. She had learned her lesson with Mzi. Ntombi was worried that they would have nothing to say to each other. She saw that Priscilla had already ordered drinks for them. As Ntombi walked over she realised with a shiver that it was the exact table where Zakes and Mzi had sat when she had overheard them planning their next carjacking. She had sat behind the screen in disbelief as she had found out the truth about Mzi.
“Ntombi! That was quick. Did you fly?” Priscilla gave Ntombi a peck on her cheek and Ntombi smelled some sweet perfume. “So, how are things? But before we get into that, I bought you a Spin.” Ntombi didn’t want alcohol. She wanted to be clear and focused. But she did not want Priscilla to be offended if she refused it, so she took a sip. The drink was too strong. It reminded Ntombi of that evening at the party when Mzi and Vuyo had got her to drink so fast she had thrown up. Priscilla saw her face. “Don’t worry, sweetie, I’ll get you a Coke.” She clicked her fingers and the Coke was there on the table within seconds.
Too Young to Die Page 6