The Other Four

by Nsununguli Mbo

  Morons cause more painful pain that makes you want to remain hunched all the time. But when you were driving a vehicle — especially a limping one — you couldn’t afford to remain hunched all the way through. You required some flexibility and some room for stretching, stretch your stomach a bit, you know. What Dumani suspected was whatever blow Thabang had administered wasn’t ordinary. It was laced with witchcraft, which made the issue of trust more important. He had no reason to trust Thabang, really. He had to restore trust, whatever it took to do so.

  “Look man, I don’t want to freak you out or anything. Nor do I want to give you any bad impression. My wife and children are missing. I did have a fight with my wife the day before yesterday. I did threaten to kill her in anger a few months ago. But I’d never kill her. I’d never harm her. And I didn’t,” I said as soon as Modiri unlocked the house. I had no luggage.

  “Like you said, we’ve been friends for a long time. But your story doesn’t add up. I’ve always been blunt and this time will be no exception: I don’t believe your story completely. Something is just wrong with it. Events don’t fit. Because we’ve been friends for such a long time, I’ll choose to believe you. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, but only for a short time, and on condition that you don’t hide the truth from me.”

  “What I’ve told you is nothing but the truth.” His house was sparsely furnished. Clearly, he was trying to make ends meet, but couldn’t accept poverty, however hard it came knocking.

  The house of an ambitious man, in other words: a worn out sofa in one corner; a two-seater in another corner.

  Different colours. A second-hand TV in an alcove cut off by what appeared to be a second-hand room divider.

  The thing I liked about him was, he liked what he’d achieved so far. It wasn’t much, but at least it didn’t involve crime. Or did it? Just because he was a Christian didn’t necessarily mean the guy couldn’t be involved in crime. That murderer back home was into the Bible and stuff, or at least was pretending to be, yet he was involved in serious crime. It took a lot of guts to kill someone, and in my opinion people who believed in the Bible have no such guts. Christians have no guts, or at least not enough to murder someone. But that prophet had, which made me suspect not all Christians were pure. The question was: why should I trust Modiri?

  Thabang was thinking that he’d rather die than trust a crook like Dumani. He had no reason to trust the guy. But right now he needed him. Just for now. Not after they got paid for the job. He hated Dumani. It wasn't just because the guy had knocked out his teeth, it was more than that. He just didn’t like him, that's all. If he got through the Police school, the first thing he would do would be to arrest Dumani. That was the first priority. He would convince other graduates from the school to come and arrest Dumani for crimes he had committed and ones he had never committed. After arresting him he would come and collect evidence that he would make sure disappeared as soon as the case went to court. While Dumani was in prison, Thabang might even pay him a secret visit and knock out his teeth, or even cut him into pieces like he did with that woman. He wondered who’d killed the woman. It could be Dumani, you know.

  There was just something not right about this deal. Why did Damon pull Dumani aside when they’d brought Mothusi in? What did they talk about? The fact that the old man had insisted on them leaving Mothusi behind didn't ring right. It would have been better to take the guy with them and kill him because he had seen Dumani and Thabang. Unless, of course, Thabang and the old man had in fact finished the deal and Dumani got paid, which was very likely. In that case there was no guarantee of Thabang's safety. Maybe the deal included getting rid of Thabang? Maybe that’s why when they drove out bush last night after burying the body Dumani had insisted on spending the night in the bush. Maybe he had intended to finish him off in the middle of the night but fell asleep before he could do so? Good thing Dumani fell asleep because Thabang wasn't going to give him a chance. That's why he kept the knife under his seat all night long. It was still there. If the fool made any wrong move, if he so much as tried to kill Thabang, he would wish he hadn't. In fact, he wouldn't wish anything. He wouldn't be able to because he would be dead.

  Thabang felt a fool proof contingency plan was in order. He now had one bar for network coverage. But he’d lied to Dumani and said there was still no network coverage. He wasn’t going to tell him for now. Not until his best buddy Eric replied. He had sent Eric a text asking him if he was interested in getting rich. He hoped the SMS had gone through.

  Eric loved food. He nearly ended up in court three months ago for breaking his wife's jaw after she refused to give him an extra piece of meat.

  Luckily he talked her into withdrawing the charges. She'd wanted to refuse, but he took her to the KFC down by the rank and when they left the place she headed off to the Police station and withdrew the charges.

  Life was tough in Lentsweng. Business wasn't as good as it used to be. Not many people were interested in buying second-hand tyres anymore. Eric was getting more desperate by the day. He could hardly fend for the family. It would have been nice if he could afford KFC at least once a week or, even better, Nando's. He salivated at the thought.

  Eric was a jack-of-all-trades. He had tried everything under the sun to try and make some cash. And he still would do everything.

  Right now, he was sitting in front of his two bedroom house, disassembling one of his radios, an old model he bought off the streets of Lentsweng from a desperate Chinese man. The radio stopped working a month after he’d bought it. Seething, he had headed off to the streets, looking for the Chinese man, but couldn't find him or, to be more specific, did actually find him, but this time he wasn't selling radios. There were three of them in the same street and they all looked alike, and they all claimed they had never sold radios. They sold everything else but radios.

  Now Eric was trying to repair the radio. If he got successful, he would put up a sign in front of his house, saying RADIO REPAIRS. Over the years he had put up different signs, depending on what he was specialising in at the time. The SECOND HAND TYRES FOR SALE that was currently in place didn't seem to be attracting customers. Neither did the last one, which was TRADITIONAL DOCTOR FROM MALAWI: DEALS WITH ALL CONDITIONS.

  He'd hoped that his limited Setswana would lend credibility to his claims of being from Malawi. But not many people took him seriously. One man came in hoping to avoid being found guilty of raping a neighbour. Eric had given the man a little herb he was sure would do the trick. It was meant to work in seven days. Fourteen days later the man was convicted of rape and thrown into prison for ten years. The next morning Eric went and removed the sign before the sun came up. His phone was ringing. It was an old iPhone that he got in exchange for three second hand tyres. Why was Thabang calling him? "Hello," Eric answered. "Hi Eric," said Thabang. There was some irritating noise in the background. "Did you see my SMS?”

  “No. let me check.” “No, it’s okay, you’ll check it after this conversation. Listen, I need a spare tyre."

  Why was he acting so strange? But then criminals do sometimes.

  "You know I don't deliver unless you're willing to pay the delivery fee."

  Thabang sighed into the phone and said, "I would appreciate if you could deliver. I'm in the middle of nowhere. I'll text you the details."

  Eric was about to refuse, but then he thought, why not, he might as well make some extra cash.

  "Okay."

  They hung up.

  Eric opened the SMS Thabang had sent earlier. Oh, it had been sitting in his phone for about fifteen minutes now.

  Are you interested in getting rich?

  Eric had always wanted wealth. Who in their right mind doesn't?

  He replied, Giv mi da details.

  It took a while before the reply came through.

  Look, it's not an easy task. I'm doing it with someone I don't trust, so I don't want him to know I'm recruiting you. I just told him you'll be bringing the tyre then lea
ve.

  What's da job?

  The reply came almost immediately. Eric hadn’t thought a dumb fuck like Thabang was capable of typing that quickly.

  We're supposed to find this guy and deliver it to this other guy, but we haven't been told why. I think it's for sacrificial purposes, but I don't care. All I need is the wealth we've been promised and that's all. But I've a feeling this guy I'm with will try to swindle me, that's why I need you to be part of the deal.

  Eric knew there was a lot of money in such deals. He smiled as he typed his response, I'm in.

  This time it took a little longer for the reply to come through. It was a longer SMS. That explained it.

  Good. We've a punctured van. I told him you're a mechanic. Bring the spare tyre and when you get here, peer into the engine and say the van may not last and you'll need to stay around for a little while to make sure nothing goes wrong. We need to get the van painted. Or, better still, we can even use your van. And if we do, then automatically you'll have to stay with us.

  Eric wanted to ask where Thabang got the van from, but decided it was none of his business. He knew Thabang stole cars — and tyres — but maybe the van belonged to the other guy he was with.

  OK.

  Just drive down the road to Tsebeyatonki. We will be parked by the roadside. See you soon.

  Sure.

  Eric told his wife he was going on a business trip. She didn't say no. She never did. He had had so many "business trips,” but mostly they involved women. He had three currently, to whose houses he took business trips on an alternating basis.

  Dumani parked the van just by the road and waited. For some reason Thabang stayed awake as they waited. Dumani wasn't sure if he preferred him asleep or awake. It didn't make any difference because either way the guy was irritating. He snored and his breath smelt when he was asleep. He said annoying things and his breath smelt when he was awake, which gave Dumani even more reasons to hate him. Dumani needed this, because you need to hate someone to betray them.

  What Dumani was going to do was, he would wait for the tyre guy. When he came, they'd get the tyre changed. They'd drive to town to get the van painted at the place of this other guy who knew Thabang stole vehicles. They'd get the van painted then drive back. Then they’d go looking for their victim. And if they found him, Dumani would beat him black and blue for wasting their time before taking him back to Damon. This time Dumani would do the tying. Legs and arms. Gag the guy and tether him to the van. Then he would deal with Thabang. Thabang had seen too much. There was no way Dumani could get rid of him in less severe ways.

  Modiri’s house was very clean. I guess he took after his mother in that regard. She always made sure his clothes were clean and well-ironed with creases in the right places when we were children.

  The floor had the characteristic smell of polish and everything was where it should be. He showed me to the spare bedroom and I suddenly felt a little guilty for mistrusting him. He was doing his best. I understood why he would feel a bit apprehensive about me staying at his place. I would feel the same if I were in his shoes. In a way he was right: I was a fugitive. If the cops came here and got me, he would get in trouble.

  We went to sit in the sitting room and he switched on the television. There was some tension between us and watching TV was a good idea. But I badly needed a wash. I told him so and he immediately went to warm some water for me.

  While I was bathing, I could hear him doing something in the kitchen. I came out feeling a little fresh. He had warmed some leftover rice and beef stew on the stove for me. My appetite immediately returned. I cleared the food within minutes, while he was watching some TV program I'd never seen before.

  After about an hour of me being in his house, he muted the TV and, head bowed, said, "Like I said, this is a difficult situation and I'll help you in whatever way I can. But, please, understand that should I have reason to believe that you're guilty, you'll have to leave."

  "I understand. I appreciate your help." "But how are you planning to find your family from here?"

  To be honest, I didn't know. "I know this sounds stupid, but I thought I may have to lie low a little until things cool down, and then I can start trying to find my family."

  I could see he wasn't comfortable with the idea. I could see regret for agreeing to help.

  "I don't think that's a good idea. If the case ends up in the hands of the Police, your picture will soon be splashed on every newspaper.

  You'll be the fugitive that the cops are appealing for information about. And..."

  "That's why I don't want to leave the house for a while."

  "And how is that going to help you? Eventually you shall have to..."

  "I need to grow a beard. I've always been cleanshaven as you may remember, so I believe if I keep a beard, I'll look different and unrecognisable. Then I can go out there and find my family."

  "What if they're already dead?"

  That was the most likely possibility, exactly what I was trying to avoid thinking about. At the end of the day, if they were dead, there was obviously nothing I could do about it. If they were abducted but still alive, there was nothing I could do about it either. I just had to hope against hope that they were safe and sound somewhere, and that maybe my memory was playing tricks on me. That maybe my wife did tell me they were heading somewhere and I'd just forgotten.

  "Let's hope they're not."

  Thabang was napping by the time the tyre man arrived. Dumani saw his white van slow down as it approached theirs and guessed it was him. He nudged Thabang and the bastard woke up with a fart. Thabang rubbed his eyes. Dumani pointed. Thabang said, "Yes, that's him.”

  He waved and the white van edged off the road and parked on the other side. A thin man wearing green coveralls came out, opened the back of the van and retrieved a spare tyre.

  Dumani was thinking that it wouldn't be a bad idea to bash the man's head and steal his van. Thabang opened the door and jumped out of the van and started walking towards his thin pal.

  "Hey, Thabang," Dumani whispered. Thabang turned around and looked at Dumani like he was seeing him for the first time. Dumani beckoned to him to come back for a quick chat. Thabang grudgingly came over.

  "What?" Thabang said loudly.

  "Not too loud," said Dumani. "Just a quick question: how well do you know this guy?"

  "I told you already! Very well. I've known him for ten years."

  "And you trust him?"

  "I've no reason not to."

  "What if he later reports to the cops after we finish the job that he helped two guys who may very well be the people that abducted the missing man?"

  Thabang looked confused. He licked his lips, smacked his gums together, winced in pain and said, "He wouldn't. Trust me."

  Dumani was disappointed. Thabang didn't seem to be getting the point, which was, the thin guy had to be wiped out. But Dumani wanted it to appear like Thabang came up with the idea. He'd hoped Thabang would take the bait, but he was dumb as always. Couldn't get a simple point.

  "Okay."

  Thabang waddled off, scratching his ass as he went to meet the thin guy, who was now walking towards their van, carrying the tyre. Thabang greeted him and took the tyre from him and led him back to their van.

  As soon as the two joined Dumani, Thabang said, "I was just saying to this mechanic that our van has been making weird sounds and he agreed to look at the engine for us, for free."

  Dumani said, "Okay." The van had been making annoying sounds indeed. Dumani hoped the thin man would repair the radio as well. When you were driving around with a dumb guy like Thabang who would sleep through a storm, it was best to have a solid car radio.

  The thin guy opened the hood of the van and peered inside. Dumani thought it wouldn't be a bad idea to bang the bonnet on his head and wipe him out. He could tell Thabang it was an accident. But the guy was quick. No sooner had his head disappeared under the bonnet area that it came out again. The thin guy whistled and said, "
You guys are lucky. The engine could very well have blown and you two would be dead. You drive this van for another hundred kilometres and you’ll turn into charcoal."

  Dumani was thinking that the guy didn't deserve to die after all. He was thinking that the guy had partly prevented a spell that was building up for them, the "worst turn" Damon had talked about. Hundred kilometres, that's how long they would probably need to drive for a week of looking for their victim. And once the week elapsed the van was meant to blow up, and that would be the worst turn done with. The van was probably going to blow anyway even if they brought the victim, before they got their wealth. Betrayal, that’s all it was.

  “So what do we do?” said Thabang.

  “To be honest, there is nothing you can do about the situation.” He turned and looked at his own van. “You need a new vehicle.”

  Dumani was frustrated.

  “Can you give us a lift so at least I could go and get my other van?”

  Thabang shot Dumani a sharp look, enquiring look. What other van, the look said.

  The thin guy seemed to think for a bit. Then he said, “Where are you guys going anyway?”

  Thabang seemed to be about to say something, but Dumani cut him off. “We’re on a business trip.”

  “I’ve no problem lending you my van. But I can’t leave it with you. I’d have to tag along.”

  Dumani was about to protest when the fat bastard beat him to it, “That would be nice.”

  It was Dumani’s turn to shoot a sharp are-youcrazy look in Thabang’s direction.

  But Thabang looked away as if to avoid Dumani’s look. The thin guy, as if on cue, turned away to walk towards his white van and said, “Let’s go then.”

  Thabang followed. Dumani remained rooted to the same spot, feeling defeated. But what choice had he? But he’d have to talk to Thabang first to set some rules.

  “Thabang!” he said.

  Thabang turned and said, “Let’s go man. I told you this guy is a good friend of mine.”

  What Thabang really wanted to do was to leave Dumani behind, make him suffer just like he was suffering from pain from his gums. To think that he might never be able to chew meat again was driving him crazy. But leaving Dumani behind would present problems. Dumani was the one who got hired by Damon, so he would have to be present when they delivered the goods. Thabang could always do it with Eric and tell Damon that Dumani was unwell — or died. But that wouldn’t guarantee results, so he had no choice. He walked back to where Dumani still stood and when he was close enough, Dumani said, “What the hell did you just do?”