The Other Four

by Nsununguli Mbo

  "How may I help you?" she said.

  I imitated the voice of a regular drinker and said, "I just bumped into a scared looking child. She..." "So why are you telling me? Stop wasting the

  government’s time with your prank calls." She hung

  up.

  That was more like her. I rung back and when she

  answered I, in the same drunkard’s voice, quickly

  said, "Please don't hang up. The child says there is a

  woman who has collapsed. He had gone to her home

  to ask for some sugar and just when the woman was

  going to the kitchen to get it she collapsed. The child

  ran away because he thinks she is dead."

  "So what do you want me to do?"

  "Go and check on her. She lives near the school

  in the yellow house just behind the big pole." I didn't wait for her to respond. I simply hung up. I had to hope for the best. I didn't see how she'd ignore such information. The guilt would hit her hard. I'd imagine that being a health professional, there had to be a sympathetic and empathetic side to her.

  "Where exactly would you guys like to go?" asked Eric. He’d been driving for a while now, constantly being commanded this and that way by Dumani and Thabang. The petrol tank was becoming less and less full. And right now they were deep in the bush, in the middle of nowhere, yet he was still being told to drive deeper. Nobody answered his question because Thabang was snoring away and his pal was sulking. Eric had stolen a glance at him earlier on — twice actually — and had seen him sulking.

  Eric said, "I'm just worried about the petrol, that's all.”

  This time he got an answer, although not exactly what he was looking for. "You don't have spare petrol inside your van?" Who doesn’t carry a little extra petrol in their vehicle? These were the sort of people who get stuck in the middle of nowhere. Then men like Damon hear about them and sends one of his crooked disciples to go find a mate and go get those that are stuck. Disciples like the two fucks named Dumani and Thabang.

  "No, because I didn't know I was going to have to drive you guys around."

  "So why are you driving us then? Nobody asked you to."

  If only this fool knew, Eric thought to himself.

  "I'd be happy to drive you back to your stolen van and let you explode in it. Very happy."

  "Why don't you give us a lift back to town? I've a newer van there with spare petrol. That's what I'd prefer than be driven around by a thin guy I don't know."

  Eric had never been a fighter. He didn't see any point in fighting. In a fight, people hit each other and get hurt. Then what? Nothing. No point.

  "Your choice. But I'd have thought it would be easier for me to drive you to your destination since I'm already here."

  He nearly asked where Dumani thought the guy they were looking for might be. But that would be betraying Thabang. Not that he didn't want to betray him. No. It was too early to. The time would come.

  "You're asking too many questions and you're starting to annoy me," Dumani said, in a raised voice.

  Thabang woke up with a start and wiped the drool off his mouth. He said, "What's going on, guys?"

  "I was only asking your friend where you guys would like me to drop you, at and Dumani got angry."

  Thabang shot Dumani a sharp glance and said, "Why are you being so uncooperative? Why do you..."

  "I don't understand why Eric can't just drop us off in town and we get another car."

  "What car? I'm not stealing another car. Stop behaving like a scared child. This guy is a good friend of mine. Take my word for it."

  Dumani was just about to answer when his phone rang. He fumbled for it and located it in the right pocket of his trousers.

  But when he tried to retrieve it, it moved down his leg somehow. Torn pocket. Eric had those too. You put something in your pocket and by the time you arrive it's no longer there. Or you start feeling something moving down your leg. Sometimes you'd remember that you'd put something in your torn pocket and try harder to retrieve it. Sometimes you forgot and jumped in fear thinking that some creature like a rat had sneaked up your pants, and even take off your pants as a result. But it seemed Dumani knew what was happening because he pushed his hand further down, mouth twisted in a funny way. Eric heard the pocket hole enlarge as he did so. By the time he got to the phone it had stopped ringing. Dumani screwed his face and examined the screen. The phone of a thief, otherwise Eric couldn't understand how a poor-looking guy like Dumani would have an iPhone.

  Just then the phone rang again. The ringtone of a thief.

  Dumani answered. "Hello."

  Dumani listened for some time. Eric could detect a certain measure of excitement creeping into his voice as he listened. By the time he finished the conversation — which had been one way mostly — he had a smile on his face.

  "Who was that?" Thabang said.

  "Turn the van around and let's go to Lentsweng."

  "What for?" Thabang asked.

  "Something good that's going to make you feel really good. Now, can you tell your friend here that our destination is Lentsweng. He wants to know."

  Thabang looked confused. But he did as he was told. And Eric did as he was told too. But he was going to share whatever it was that was meant to make Thabang feel good. He wasn't going to allow himself to be used.

  Strangely enough, I managed to grab another nap despite all that was going on. The tiredness got the better of me. I woke up after about an hour and a half. To say I felt refreshed would be an exaggeration, but I did feel better, but not for long.

  The present immediately came back, pummelling my mind, bringing me back to my problems: my wife, my children, my mother — and possibly my father too. I dialled my wife’s number. This had become routine, something I did every hour sometimes, hoping her phone would eventually ring and she would answer. As usual, the call went straight to voicemail. Next I rang my mother. I held my breath as it kept ringing.

  It rang a total of five times. Then an answer came, “Hello!” It was a voice I had never heard before.

  Mothusi was sitting behind the wheel of the van and smiling. His best friend from Thogonkope had brought him a spare wheel. While changing it, he'd been very scared, looking around like a thief, fearful that the two goons would rock up and mistake him for the guy they were looking for again. This time they would have reason to kill him though. He was stealing their van.

  But now those fears were behind him. He was cruising down the highway at what must have been 60km/hr, headed towards Lentsweng. The speedometer wasn’t working so he couldn’t be sure. He had some business to take care of in Lentsweng.

  The van was annoyingly noisy, but that was no big deal. He had more important things to do than worry about how much noise a stolen van was making, and one of them was that it looked like he was running out of petrol. The little needle that shows how much petrol is left in the tank was at EMPTY, but it had been like that for the past twenty kilometres or so. Twenty more kilometres and there would be a filling station. Fingers crossed.

  It was funny because he didn't know the real name of the person he was going to meet in Lentsweng. He only knew him as Boxer. They had worked together, but only for a short period of time. They had kept in touch and sometimes when Mothusi was in town the two would hang out.

  He rung him just to make sure he still remembered that Mothusi was on his way. At first I didn't answer. I just stood there in the kitchen, phone pressed against my ear, all sorts of thoughts touring through my mind.

  "Hello," the voice said again. I wanted to insult the owner of the voice. I believed he was one of the people who had my mother. Maybe she hadn't actually had an asthma attack. Maybe somebody had hit her while I was talking to her.

  "Look, what the hell do you want from me and my family? Why involve my mother in this, whoever the hell you're?"

  "Excuse me?" said the voice.

  "I need to speak to my mother now!"

  "You do
n't have to be that rude. Your mother is

  unwell and she is in an ambulance.” I've never felt as much of a fool as I felt right at that moment.

  "I'm really sorry. I thought it was somebody else."

  "It's okay. Would you like to leave a message?"

  "How is she?"

  "She had an asthma attack. She is unconscious but alive right now."

  I heaved a sigh of relief.

  "Where is she being taken to?"

  "Lentsweng Hospital."

  "Thank you."

  I rang off.

  I had to see my mother. I just hoped there wouldn't be too many people who knew me down there.

  Dumani was full of shit, he thought he was superior and could just order Thabang and Eric around. This made Thabang strongly suspect that Dumani was up to no good. He took a call, and immediately after ordered that they go to Lentsweng. If he thought Thabang was going to nick another car, then he was in for a shock. Thabang was done with stealing cars.

  "Are you going to tell us why we suddenly have to go to town?" Thabang said. Shit, his gums were killing him. The pain had gone earlier, but it was back.

  Dumani ignored him. This was the last time Thabang was ever going to do any deal with Dumani. He intended to delete the guy’s number once this deal was over. He would change numbers then make an anonymous call to the cops and report that Dumani had kidnapped a man. That would be a sweet form of revenge for knocking out his teeth. By then Thabang would be far away, possibly Jo'burg. That’s if he failed to kill Dumani. Killing and cutting him up before burying him was the first option.

  "Dumani, I know you like being the boss. But remember one thing: we're in this deal together. You can't do it without me."

  Dumani shot Thabang a sharp look and elbowed him on the side of the abdomen. Thabang made a fist and nearly punched Dumani on the side of the face. But he stopped, not just because he hated the idea of losing more teeth — not that he had many left — but because it suddenly dawned on him that Dumani may have some important information in regard to the whereabouts of their victim. He’d been smiling when he spoke on the phone. And Thabang, from experience, knew that people, especially ugly fucks like Dumani, don't smile unless there is a reason to.

  "Why are you hitting me?" Thabang protested. "Because you talk too much. I don't know what deal you're talking about."

  Thabang looked at Dumani angrily. "You don't know what deal I'm talking about? Let me guess: you've already completed the deal and been paid, is that it?"

  "Thabang, you're more stupid than I thought. You talk too much."

  "I told you many times that Eric is a friend of mine I trust. He won't say a thing, so we might as well tell him about our deal. Besides, we need him."

  Dumani was quiet for a while.

  "Thabang, you're really annoying. If Damon finds out you told people about our deal, you'll wish you were never born."

  "Eric is not people. He is a good friend, so don’t refer to him as people."

  "Don't say I didn't warn you."

  “Warn me about what? We wouldn’t be in this mess had you not thrown away my chicken in the first place.”

  “That was not even chicken. You were eating feet.”

  “So what difference does it make? The feet came from chicken. I paid for that you know.”

  “I’m just shocked that you can still chew with all those missing teeth, that’s all.”

  Dumani was touching the wrong nerves, but Thabang managed to successfully ignore him thought what he had really wanted to do was knock out all of Dumani’s teeth. That way he’ll start understanding what it’s like to have no teeth.

  "You guys are causing me so much suspense. You keep talking about this deal. What..." Eric said. "Just shut up and drive," retorted Dumani. Eric decided he had had enough of being bossed

  around. He slowed down the van and stepped on the brakes. The van lurched forward, nearly throwing both Thabang and Dumani out through the windscreen. He parked by the roadside, took out the keys from the ignition and got out of the van and went to sit under a tree. He was seething. He had a tendency to seethe easily. And when he was seething, he preferred be left alone to sit and cool down. He preferred not to talk when he was seething. He just couldn't trust anyone right now, even Thabang. Thabang had said something about stealing a vehicle. This made Eric wonder what the two were up to. Maybe Thabang had lured him all the way here so they could steal his van? Maybe that's why suddenly Dumani wanted them to go to town? But no way was he going to let them steal his van.

  "Eric, sorry man," said Thabang, approaching. "What are you guys really up to?" Eric said, standing up. He wasn't feeling as angry as he'd been a few seconds ago. He usually cooled down quickly. He sat back down as Thabang approached.

  Thabang sat next to him and patted him on the shoulder.

  "Relax man," he whispered. Dumani was walking towards them now. He came and sat next to Thabang.

  "Dumani, I'll let you tell him," Thabang said.

  So Dumani told him about their deal.

  L

  entsweng Hospital is a large hospital, by all standards. It was built during the Cecil John Rhodes days and had undergone

  various renovations since, although it still maintained its old look. I'd been there once before to check on my mother. Twice actually, both of which times she had been hospitalised following a serious asthma attack.

  I've always hated hospitals. The smell associated with them, the clanking of the feet down the corridors, the nurses' white uniforms, there was nothing I liked about hospitals. After I broke my leg, I was admitted to a ward full of crying patients. The guy in the bed next to mine was found dead one morning and that may have something to do with my hatred for hospitals.

  I'd finally got through to Modiri and explained what had happened. He discouraged me from visiting my mother as he felt that was a risky move. He only agreed for me to go when I told him that I was going to attempt some form of disguise. He told me about his wig, which I found in the wardrobe in his bedroom.

  I looked different and I hoped I wouldn't scare my mother into a further asthma attack if she saw me. I’d rung the hospital earlier on when I was leaving Modiri's house and the lady I spoke to refused to give me information in regards to how mother was doing. Apparently I couldn’t be given any information over the phone. I still felt paranoid, mainly because of the way people on the kombi were looking at me. I must admit, I did look scary. I wondered why Modiri would have a wig.

  The kombi slowed down and stopped in front of the hospital. I shot off and walked in. I assumed my mother would be at the Female Medical Ward like before. The hospital had changed a bit since the last time I was here, I noticed. What used to be the Female Medical Ward had become the Gynaecology Ward. The Female Medical Ward had been moved towards the back.

  I found some nurses fiddling with something behind the Nurse’s station and introduced myself. They looked at me suspiciously and one of them said, "Is your mother expecting you?"

  "Not really. But I'd like to see her."

  "It's not visiting time."

  "I understand that. But I need to see her. I was on

  the phone with her when she collapsed." The nurses looked at each other, and then the other one said, "Has your brother not updated you yet?"

  "My brother?"

  "Yes."

  I was starting to get confused.

  "I don't have a brother."

  "Let me make sure we're talking about the same

  patient. What's your mother's name?"

  "Shirley Peba."

  "What's her date of birth?"

  "The fifteenth of October, 1956."

  "And you don't have a brother?"

  "No."

  "That's strange because a man who claimed to be

  your mother's son came here earlier on and stayed with your mother for a few minutes. He brought her some food."

  My hurt skipped a beat. This wasn't right. "Did you check his ID?"

 
; "What for?"

  "A man comes in here, claims to be my mother's

  son, and you let him see her without confirming he was who he claimed to be?" "We don't check people's IDs. It's not our job to do so."

  "Where is my mother?"

  "In Room 5 down the corridor."

  I literally ran down the short corridor. I pushed open the door to Room 5. My mother lay in bed, looking more peaceful than ever. Beyond peaceful, in fact. She was dead.

  They had parked the van across the road from the hospital. Dumani had refused to tell the other two the whole plan. He'd told them he was going to meet someone. That someone still remained a mystery. Actually, Dumani only went to the rendezvous area and collected what he had been told to collect. It was a brown little bag with a container of food in it. He'd been tempted to eat it. But then he thought it might not be safe. He was so hungry. After collecting the food, he'd passed by the hospital canteen and ate a nice little pie that made him feel good. Then he'd gone to the Female Medical Ward, falsely identified himself to one of the rude nurses and visited the woman in Room 5. She’d seemed confused when she saw him. He'd told her that her son had sent him to bring her food and that her son would be late in coming to check on her. She had said she didn't feel like eating. As instructed, Dumani had opened the bag and revealed what he'd been told was her favourite meal: rice and chicken.

  Then Dumani had excused himself. He told the woman that he had a meeting. He suspected the food was laced with something, but that wasn't for him to worry about. Now he was back in the van with the other two and was refusing to talk. He'd told them to be on the lookout for their target. He had received information that the target would probably be on his way here. Thabang, as usual, was having a nap, and he stank. Thankfully Eric had wound down the windows to let in some fresh air, but this didn't help much either. Dumani couldn’t wait to finish this job and delete Thabang’s number.

  I literally ran out of the room shouting, "Please, somebody help!" The two nurses looked at me like I was mad. I felt like strangling them. They were irresponsible. Their irresponsibility had resulted in there. They had let a killer walk in there with food that was possibly poisoned. But who could it be? I was now certain that it was not just my life that was in danger: my whole nuclear family was. But why? What had we done to deserve this? The fact that a guy casually walked in to kill my mother made me suspect that it had to be someone with serious connections. A pro that must have done it many times and it doesn’t give him the jitters anymore.