Too Young to Die

by Mazantsi, Sivuyile; Roth, Sam;

  “Ntombi …” Priscilla hesitated. She looked down at the table like it was difficult for her to speak. Ntombi had never seen her like this before, not knowing what to say. “I know I have treated you badly in the past … and I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” She looked up at Ntombi. “Can you forgive me?”

  Ntombi was surprised and embarrassed. She couldn’t believe that this was the same Priscilla. “Of course. It’s just that, um, it’s difficult, your friendship with Mzi and everything.”

  “I’m past that,” said Priscilla.

  “I saw you pick him up at school.”

  “I promised his sister. She and I are friends,” said Priscilla sweetly. “She just doesn’t want him getting into any more trouble.” She took a sip of her drink. “So things are good between us? You will be a friend, darling?”

  Ntombi nodded. But she wasn’t so sure. Why had Priscilla changed her tune so quickly? And surely she wasn’t friends with Mzi’s sister, who was so different from her in every way?

  Priscilla saw Ntombi’s puzzled face. “This thing was eating my conscience. That’s why I want to make peace with you. It’s not good to keep something bad that’s bothering you inside.” She wiped her eye as if wiping away a tear. “You’re so innocent and young. Cheers to our future friendship.” She raised her glass and Ntombi clinked her Coke against Priscilla’s Spin. But inside she still felt suspicious.

  “So where’s your lovely boyfriend?” Priscilla asked casually.

  “He’s working,” said Ntombi quickly.

  “It’s OK, sweetie, don’t sound so nervous. I won’t eat him up. He’s not my type.” She gave a loud laugh. No more tears now, thought Ntombi.

  But then her voice got serious again. “I thought I could SMS him. I want to say I’m sorry for all Mzi did, for my part in it, just so that I can sleep peacefully at night. Have you got his number for me?”

  She was waiting with her cellphone ready, waiting to punch in the numbers. Ntombi still did not trust her. But what harm could it do really? Phone numbers weren’t private. And what if she really was speaking the truth – how hurt would she be that Ntombi didn’t trust her?

  “Mzi’s changing, you know …” said Priscilla and smiled. Ntombi wondered if she was right. She had seen Mzi with Thandi at break time. Thandi kept herself to herself. She didn’t join in with the giraffes. But Ntombi respected her. She was strong, and wasn’t afraid to speak her mind if she felt things weren’t fair. Sometimes it meant that the bitchy girls spread rumours about her. But she didn’t seem to let it bother her.

  “OK,” she hesitated. What would Olwethu think of her giving his number to Priscilla? But she could just tell him that Priscilla would SMS him. And Priscilla was looking at her so directly, not even imagining that she might say no. Before she really had time to think it through she stuttered out the number.

  Priscilla smiled, put her phone in her bag, and finished her drink with a gulp. “Thanks, sweetie, are we good?”

  “We’re good,” said Ntombi. But suddenly she couldn’t wait to get back outside into the fresh air, away from the smell of alcohol and Priscilla’s sweet perfume.

  “By the way, you’re looking so sexy,” said Priscilla. “I just love that top.”

  “Thanks,” said Ntombi. It was an old top that wasn’t even smart.

  Outside Priscilla waved goodbye. “If you ever need me for anything don’t be frightened to call,” said Priscilla. “I give great advice to my girlfriends. I have so much experience in love matters, you see. I can give you all kinds of tips to keep your boyfriend running back for more.” And with that she roared off, leaving Ntombi in a cloud of dust.

  Chapter 18

  Mzi closed his bedroom curtains. He took out his gun and put on his three-quarter all-weather coat and beanie. He was ready. Priscilla had got the number from Ntombi. She had done her job. “That silly little girl of yours,” Priscilla had said on the phone. “It was like taking sweets from a baby. And she is a mama’s baby, wouldn’t even drink a Spin!” But Mzi had no time for Priscilla’s gossip. He was on a mission.

  And now he felt cool and focused; gone were the confusing emotions that kept him awake at night. This was clear. He was taking action and it felt good. He felt like a man again, not like some animal trapped in his room, as he tapped out the message.

  Olwethu cum 2 Mamas nw. Ntombi nids u…

  He pressed the Send button and smiled. Olwethu would be there like a shot. He put the gun in his inner pocket and got his cigarettes. As he let himself out he felt a flutter in his stomach. He heard Thandi’s voice in his head. “Let it go.” But her voice wasn’t welcome. He had to do what he had to do.

  When he put his hand in his pocket for his cigarettes he found her card with that bird flying to freedom. When had he put it in there, and why? He looked at it for a few seconds then ripped it in half and tossed it on the street. He started to run.

  * * *

  He knew the streets so well. And he liked the night time. It felt safe, like an old friend he had been missing. You could fade back into the shadows. He could find his way to Mama’s blindfolded. It was cold but he didn’t feel it. Would Olwethu take the bait? But how could he not. He fancied himself as such a rescuing hero.

  As he turned the corner he could hear the music blaring from the tavern in the distance. A man was walking quickly towards him. When Mzi came closer he could see it was Mr Gwala from Harmony High, staggering back home. He was always drunk, he probably wouldn’t recognise Mzi if he bumped into him, or he would ask him for a cigarette. But he couldn’t take any risks. Quickly he lowered the hoody over his eyes. When he passed, he stopped and took some deep breaths. He needed to be calm. He felt the gun in his pocket. Then he lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. That was better.

  He looked around the street. Some guys were checking him out. He smelled the roasting of smileys. It was good to be out. This was freedom. This was what it meant to be uncaged. Being able to own the streets. But like a lion, not Thandi’s fragile bird. He heard the music from the stands that sell mbaqanga and maskandi music.

  He turned into the street that had an old dilapidated building that used to be a beer hall. This was the street that was going to get him quicker to Mama’s. He didn’t want Olwethu to arrive there before him.

  “Ndincede, Thixo, ndifike kuqala,” he prayed.

  A young laaitie came up from nowhere to him and asked for a skyf.

  “Suka!” Mzi tried to get rid of him. But whereas in the past he would have given him a smoke, now he gave him a lecture: “You’re too young. It will kill you. Go home.”

  What was wrong with him, he would be going to church next. Then he remembered his mission and felt tough again.

  Talking to the boy, he had taken his eyes off who was around him. He did not notice the group of guys who had come in, circling round him, coming out of nowhere. Perhaps they had sent the young boy to distract him while they approached. One of them had a knife. Mzi saw the glint of steel under the street light. He kept moving forward and stabbing the air near Mzi. But they looked nervous at the same time. Mzi could tell they were new at this game.

  “Give us the money, and your cellphone,” they said. Their knives were open. He had no time to waste now, Olwethu would be arriving at Mama’s. He wouldn’t show the gun, not now. He had more important business. He couldn’t risk a fight, gunshots, attention … He wasn’t stupid. He shook his head. “Got no cellphone. Here, take this.” He took two twenty-rand notes out of his pocket. “Now go unless you want to get into real trouble.” The guy snatched the money, and the group ran back into the shadows, like cowards.

  Inside Mama’s Ishmail’s blaring song ‘Waar was jy?’ was playing. It was smoky. Mzi looked around. Olwethu wasn’t there. That was good. He went straight to the counter and ordered. “An Amstel, please.” He drank it quickly. He could feel his nerves on edge. In the old d
ays he would enjoy the drink, chat to the guys, even brag about the money he was making with Zakes. But now he found his eyes searching for Olwethu. What if he didn’t show? What if he hadn’t got the SMS?

  “Mzi, you’re so scarce!” One of the regulars came up and greeted him. “Where have you been hiding?”

  Did he really not know? Mzi thought. Or was he mocking him?

  “Ja,” another of the guys who used to drink with him had come up. “Bra, long time no see. How’s life?” he shook hands with Mzi. “You back at school?”

  “School is not for me.”

  “Too right. You must be going crazy there at home. Just you and your sister,” the guy punched Mzi on the shoulder.

  “Big time, bra. You’ve got no idea.” He was relieved it was out in the open. They did know, but they didn’t care, not like those boys at school who taunted him.

  “I heard Mzobbish and Vuyo are still working for Zakes.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Mzi said too quickly, his eyes on the door.

  Olwethu came running in. Mzi could see the panic on his face. He was gasping for breath. He had run all the way across the township from his uncle’s garage. Come to rescue his girl. And now he was scanning the tavern, pushing between the crowds searching for her. But he wouldn’t find her. And it would make him fear the worst.

  Mzi put his beer down and started weaving between the people, closing in on Olwethu. Then he stopped. Next to Olwethu stood the familiar figure of Sergeant Ndebele.

  Shit! thought Mzi. Had Olwethu brought him? It was like that terrible night, the night Ntombi had betrayed him, locked herself in the car, and then Olwethu had arrived with the cops. She had called Olwethu and he had come running. Mzi shuddered. It was like a ghost was walking over his grave. But then he realised that they weren’t together. Sergeant Ndebele started chatting to another guy. Olwethu was still searching for Ntombi.

  Mzi ducked out the back.

  “Bra, ndiyabuya,” he said to the guy at the bar as he ducked out of Mama’s.

  Though Mzi was outside he could still hear and see the goings-on through the broken window. There was Olwethu: “Guys, I’m sorry to bother you. Has anyone seen uNtombi, my girlfriend? I’m looking for her.”

  The guys shook their heads and murmured, signalling to Olwethu that they hadn’t seen Ntombi. “What kind of a guy are you?” asked one wearing a red cap. “Can’t even keep track of your own girlfriend? She’s probably run away from you. Give her my phone number if you like! I’ll be able to keep her happy!” The others roared with laughter. Mzi thought of his sister’s words: “Men become very stupid when drunk.”

  He saw the sergeant coming to the bar too. “Can we help you?” he heard the bartender ask him.

  “A Hansa.”

  Mzi breathed again. He wasn’t looking for him. He just happened to be in the bar. But as he was watching, the probation officer came in. Were they together? Oh shit! If Ndebele heard anything. Had the probation officer been around to Mzi’s house. Had his sister told him he was out? Now Ndebele would find out and he would come looking for Mzi … with no mercy. He would make sure he got to Mzi before the probation officer. But Ndebele moved away from the bar, a woman in the back was waving at him and it looked like he couldn’t wait to get over to her table.

  The probation officer leaned across to the barman. “Have you seen Mzi Mlongeni? He used to come here often. Hung out with Zakes …”

  “Mzi?” the bartender pretended he didn’t understand.

  “Girlfriends and now offenders,” laughed the man in the red cap. “It’s real hide-and-seek tonight. Maybe the girlfriend and the offender have found each other, and are playing a different sort of game.”

  Mzi could hear from some laughs that a few knew the story of him and Ntombi, knew why it was funny to think of them together. The laughs cut into him and he wanted to shoot them all through the window. But he wasn’t that stupid.

  “So you haven’t seen him.” The probation officer was scanning the room. “It’s just that his sister called me, to say that he had taken off …”

  “Sorry, officer, no luck here.”

  Mzi watched him leave. He had been right. He couldn’t believe in the short time he had left the house to come here, the officer had been by. Just his luck! Everything was against him. But now Olwethu was heading out of the bar, probably to go to Ntombi’s house, thought Mzi. And Mzi was only a few steps behind him in the dark.

  Chapter 19

  Mzi stepped back into the shadows as Olwethu banged on Ntombi’s door. He watched as her sister Zinzi came out onto the doorstep. He saw Zinzi shaking her head. No, Ntombi had gone out with a girlfriend. She wasn’t sure where.

  “What’s up?” she asked Olwethu.

  “Nothing.” He shook his head.

  He probably didn’t want to worry her, thought Mzi. Always the good guy.

  “You don’t know which girlfriend?” asked Olwethu.

  “You know Ntombi, she doesn’t tell me anything.” Zinzi rolled her eyes and leaned against the doorframe. “Have you heard from Mzi?”

  Mzi watched Olwethu’s face. If they knew that he was only a few metres away, watching them now.

  “Ntombi said he was trying to talk to her at school. They say he’s changed.”

  Olwethu looked at the ground. “Don’t trust him, Zinzi,” is all he said.

  “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t even talk to that boy if he begged me.” She tossed back her head.

  Mzi felt a surge of anger, and he was glad. It made what he was about to do much easier.

  “Anyway,” added Zinzi, “I’ve got a boyfriend of my own.”

  “You have?” said Olwethu, but he was distracted.

  As he turned away Zinzi called after him. “She might have said something about going to your place.”

  Olwethu lived very close by with his gran and little sister, Linkie. Mzi decided not to confront him yet. He would get him just outside his home, let Ntombi see the whole thing too, so she never forgot that Mzi was not someone to mess with.

  He felt his cell vibrate in his pocket. He had switched it onto silent. He took it out, saw he had ten missed calls from his sister. She was going crazy, he thought. Soon she would have the whole police force out looking for him. He would have to act soon if he was going to do this. Just as he was about to start the last walk to Olwethu’s house he saw an SMS come through.

  But it wasn’t his sister this time. It was Thandi. He read the message:

  B4 u du sumthng stupid cll me. Dnt wyst ur lyf. U hv a choice.Tx

  She was as bad as his social worker. And how did she know what he was planning to do – could she read his mind now? He tried to feel the anger he had felt a moment before, but it just wasn’t coming. He just felt numb.

  He took the gun out and looked at it. It felt heavy in his hands suddenly. “Don’t use it to shoot someone. You can’t take it back.” He heard Themba’s voice. He tried to push the voice away. Themba wasn’t here when Mzi needed him. He didn’t know what else to do; he had to shoot Olwethu. How else would this end? How could anyone respect him if he didn’t get his revenge?

  Mzi walked, not looking back until he was at the end of Olwethu’s street. He saw Olwethu in the doorway. Behind him was his granny coming up towards him, lit up by the candlelight as she smiled to see him. Mzi knew he supported his family. What would happen when – Mzi shook his head, trying to shake the thoughts away. He stepped forward into the pool of light coming from a bright street light overhead.

  “Olwethu!” he shouted. Olwethu turned around, looking for where the call came from. Mzi walked a few steps closer. He lifted the gun and pointed at Olwethu. His finger was on the trigger. All he needed to do was squeeze and it would all be over. He was a good shot – even when he was a laaitie. Themba had shown him how to shoot the gun at old tin cans.

 
He closed his eyes. In his head he saw Thandi shouting, “No!” He saw Themba shouting at him. But they weren’t really there, it was just his imagination. Now, he had to do it now, or he would lose his nerve. But then outside his head he heard a real voice, the voice of a young girl, so excited, so happy to see her brother. And she hadn’t seen or heard Mzi.

  “Olwethu!” A young high voice, so full of joy. Would anyone call his name like that, Mzi wondered? Did anyone love him that much?

  A young girl came flying down the street from the other direction, towards her brother, her arms out to hug him.

  “Linkie, no. Stop!” Olwethu shouted. He had seen Mzi. He had seen the gun. But she didn’t stop. She came flying into his arms, her shopping bag swinging wildly.

  “Bhuti! Bhuti! Bhuti!” And then she must have seen Olwethu looking down the street. She turned quickly and saw Mzi and the gun pointed at her brother. Her bag dropped, spilling a loaf of bread and a tin of pilchards.

  “Bhuti, ngubani lo?” she asked.

  “Thula,” warned Olwethu.

  Mzi moved closer. He was just a few feet away. Now, he must do it now. Before someone screamed, before the neighbours came out. Before his sister and the cops arrived. He must shoot and then run for his life. Into the darkness. He must leave. He could never come back after that. He didn’t want to think about what would happen then. This was where everything was going to change.

  Mzi released the gun’s safety catch. He saw Linkie’s urine stream down Olwethu’s jeans.