The Other Four

by Nsununguli Mbo

  I thought of my mother, wondering if she was still alive, and if she was, was she wondering where I was. I wondered if my father had got my voicemails and went to check on her.

  Who was after me? That was the big question. Things were deeper than they seemed, like Modiri had said.

  “You can’t continue living here, Ngano,” Modiri said as his crying reduced to mere sobs.

  “So you’re kicking me out?” A lump jumped into my throat. It was my turn to cry, only I didn’t. I controlled myself.

  “Not exactly. There is a place for you to stay that is safer than here.”

  “How do you know it’s safe?”

  “Because the house belongs to my uncle. He is a Police officer.”

  “A Police officer! You’ve reported me to the Police!”

  “No. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know you’re going to be living at the house. He is in South Africa at the moment.”

  Modiri was not talking to me as he drove to his uncle’s house, located in Rhodes, a suburb that’s in the outermost southern part of town. I had a feeling he was blaming me for what had happened to him. Actually, he had the right to blame me. If I hadn’t come into his life like this he wouldn’t be in this mess. I was overcome with emotions when I looked at his bandaged head.

  He looked haggard and genuinely stressed all of sudden. I could see the fear in his eyes. Once in a while he would peer into the rear-view mirror and the fear seemed to intensify each time he did so. At times he would surreptitiously glance over my side, like he wanted to say something but he held back.

  “I’m sorry to put you through this, man,” I said. “It’s alright, man. You don’t have to be sorry. That’s what friends are for.”

  I wanted to ask him why he was going to such

  lengths just to save me from such a strange

  predicament but held back. Right now nothing was

  making sense to me anyway. Even if I asked and he

  explained, I wouldn’t understand.

  Once again there was silence.

  His uncle’s house was a three room structure,

  flanked on the left by a house with a falling roof and

  on the right by a house with a falling fence. I couldn’t

  make sense of why he thought this was good hiding

  place.

  Before he left, Modiri went to buy me a half loaf of bread at a nearby shop. Now I was alone and making tea. Not that I felt like eating, but I knew I had to. There was butter in the fridge, and some bags of tea and some little sugar inside a box that was on the floor, near the stove. I sat in the sitting room and tried to drink the tea and have some bread, but each time I tried to swallow, the food threatened to come right back up. I gave up, defeated in all sorts of ways.

  I should have asked Modiri for a charger. The last thing I wanted to happen was to run out of battery because if I did I’d be in serious trouble. I looked around the house and found a charger in one of the drawers in the bedroom. I plugged it in into my phone and the socket and it worked. I tried to call my father once again. The phone rang until it went into voicemail after it had rung six times.

  Then I remembered that he may not have been answering because it was me the “criminal” calling. I fidgeted with the settings and switched off the Caller ID. I rang him again. He picked up on the first ring.

  “Father, it’s me…” He didn’t let me finish. He simply hung up on me. At least now I knew the reason he hadn’t been answering was because it was me calling. He was angry with me, I knew that. I tried him again, my number still hidden. He answered and growled, “What do you want? I’ve disowned you. Hand yourself over to the Police!” he retorted.

  “Mother is at the hospital.”

  “What for?”

  “Didn’t you get my voicemail?”

  “I did. Something is wrong with your brain. Your

  mother is right here with me.”

  “I went to see her at the hospital the other day.

  She had a cardiac arrest…”

  “No. She is here. And she doesn’t want to talk to

  you.”

  “When was discharged?”

  “She was never in hospital. Have you gone

  mad?”

  I heard the voice of a woman in the background

  asking who it was. He didn’t answer her. Or if he did

  I wouldn’t know because he hung up.

  Your mother is right here with me.

  She was never in hospital.

  These words echoed inside my head over and

  over. Could I really be going mad? Could it be that I

  was imagining everything that was happening? But I

  had seen my mother lying in ICU. It was her, I was

  sure of that.

  I was tempted to ring the hospital although I

  knew they wouldn’t give me information about my

  mother on the phone, find out if she was still there,

  and find out if she was still alive. Besides, even if

  they could, I could be giving my location away. I had

  heard of Police locating people through a phone call.

  But on the other hand if they could, they’d have

  located me through my phone call to my father, which

  meant they could be on their way.

  Therefore, I might as well try my luck. Maybe

  this time I’ll speak to someone who doesn’t mind

  breaking the rules once in a while. But I didn’t know

  the hospital number. I called Directory Inquiries and

  got the hospital number, and rang the hospital. The

  phone rang for a while before a tired-sounding voice

  answered, “Lentsweng Hospital, this is switch. How

  may I help you?”

  I held my breath. Should I really be doing this? “Hello! How may I help you?” the voice

  repeated.

  “I’m calling to find out how my mother is doing.” “What ward is she on?”

  “She was in ICU the last time I checked on her.” “Hold on.”

  I listened to the boring music that played down

  the line while I waited. After a minute or so a female

  voice came over the line.

  “Hello!”

  “Hello. I’m calling to find out how my mother is

  doing.”

  “Who is your mother?”

  I told her my mother’s name. There was silence.

  At first I thought she’d gone, but then I heard her

  breathing.

  “Is she alright?” I said.

  “Sorry, but we don’t give such information over

  the phone.”

  “Please, I just want to know how she is doing,

  that’s all. I’m in Kasane at the moment and will not

  be able to come there immediately, but I’m on my

  way there.”

  Some more silence. This didn’t sound good. Bad

  news. She just didn’t want to tell me. She wanted me

  to come in and find out.

  “Like I said, we can’t give such information over

  the phone. Do you have a family member who would

  be able to come in and give you feedback

  afterwards?”

  I thought for a while. I thought of Modiri. He

  could go and check on her for me. But I had already

  put him through a lot, through what he didn’t deserve.

  Asking him to go and check on my mother could only

  throw him into further jeopardy. He had been warned

  to keep away from me.

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Sure.”

  We hung up.

  I had to know how my mother was doing. I — or

  somebody else — would have to go to hospital. But

  there was nobody. There was only me. It could only

  be me. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself
by

  sending someone else and only for them to come back

  saying my mother had never been in hospital.

  Besides, there wasn’t anyone I could send anyway.

  Maybe she didn’t want to see me. Maybe my father

  was actually in hospital with her. Or, worse still, I was

  going mad.

  Mothusi was sure Thabang or Dumani — or both — were going to kill him. He was sure they had agreed on that. If that’s what fate wanted, that’s what was bound to happen. He didn’t believe in tampering with fate. But in this case, he was going to. He was going to fight against fate. Or maybe fate actually wanted him to fight his way out of this messed up situation.

  He got off the floor and brandished the axe, daring the two fools to come any closer. They dared not. They stood well back, away from Mothusi, eyes wide open in fear. Dumani was standing close to the door, his hand hovering in the air, evidently waiting for a chance to throw the door ajar and run for dear life.

  “Mothusi! What’s going on? Why did you stab us?” Dumani said. He had tears in his eyes.

  Thabang seemed to be still in shock and confused. He was intermittently looking at the wound on his shoulder as if doing so would heal it. Blood was still oozing from it, far from healing. You don’t mess with Mothusi. You don’t betray Mothusi.

  “Don’t come near me,” Mothusi said, waving the axe wildly as he did.

  He too was confused. His plan had been a simple one but now it had got complicated He’d thought it would be easy to carry it out. He was going to ask Dumani to remain in the car, walk into the house and find the axe, swing it, hit Thabang in the head, then crack Ngano’s skull open, and then walk out casually as if nothing had happened, go back to the stolen car, tell Dumani that he just remembered he had to do something.

  He was then going to ask Dumani to drop him off at some house, claim it’s a friend’s house, and disappear into thin air, then possibly call the cops about the stolen taxi, give them the plate number and the place where it had got painted, then he could go back to Damon and get paid.

  Obviously Damon would need proof. Mothusi would come back to the house of massacre, cut off Ngano’s head, put it in a little bag and take it to Damon. Job done, he’d get paid and give Boxer his cut to prevent him from squealing. Even if he squealed, by the time the law started looking for him, he’d be in South Africa, or even the UK.

  But things didn’t turn out well for Mothusi. First Dumani had refused to remain in the car. Mothusi had calmly tried to explain that he wasn’t going to be long. Dumani had said no, he was coming into the house too because he didn’t feel safe sitting in the car alone.

  This had annoyed Mothusi, who took out his little knife from his back pocket, unclasped it and stabled the fool on the shoulder a few times.

  He hadn’t wanted the shoulders. He had wanted to aim for the heart, but the fool ducked well and got away with a few shoulder wounds instead. Mothusi thought that was enough to slow Dumani down, so he rushed into the house, hoping to finish off the other fool and hack the victim to death.

  And now, for all his hard work and planning, he was stuck with two bleeding guys, both of whom were bigger than him. But at least for now the axe made them look smaller and more vulnerable, which gave Mothusi an upper hand. But he smelt trouble. One little mistake and he’d become the vulnerable one.

  “Calm down man. What’s going on?’ Thabang said in pleading tones.

  “I don’t trust either of you!” Mothusi retorted. “I know you were trying to betray me. So I beat you to it.”

  “That’s not true. There is no need for you not to trust us, man. We are supposed to be working together, remember? Not against each other. We need the team spirit. We agreed on that, remember? The more we waste time by fighting, the more likely we are to lose our target. Please, put down the axe and let’s go find this guy.”

  Mothusi noticed tears in Dumani’s eyes. It suddenly dawned on him that he was acting without thinking, that he was being a little paranoid.

  He had a tendency to get a little paranoid sometimes, he knew that, but this was way worse than ever. Tears stung his eyes. Slowly, he put down the axe, his eyes trained on Dumani and Thabang, alternately. He feared as soon as the axe landed on the floor, they’d pounce on him.

  But they didn’t. His legs became rubbery and he stumbled to the floor and sobbed uncontrollably. But nobody pounced on him. Thabang did move closer — and Dumani, too — but not to attack him. Rather to console him, because they were genuinely wanting to work with him.

  Thabang shot Dumani an angry glance and said, “What the hell do you think you’re doing? This guy just tried to kill us”

  Dumani ignored him. Unable to contain his anger. Thabang shot forward and punched Mothusi on the left temple. Mothusi fell back and his eyes rolled heavenwards. Panic shot through Thabang.

  “Mothusi!” he yelled, shaking Mothusi at the same time.

  “You just killed him Thabang,” said Dumani.

  Thabang’s heart was going at a hundred kilometres an hour. He paced around, clamped his hands against his head in frustration, and came back to shake Mothusi. The guy was limp.

  Dumani looked around and found a little bucket of dirty water, whatever it was. He poured it on Mothusi, and some of the liquid spilt on Thabang’s pants. Thabang realised then that the liquid was in fact urine. The urine succeeded in bringing Mothusi back, and as he woke up he seemed confused.

  Thabang would have thought Mothusi and Dumani were in on this thing together, a scheme to fool him, but Dumani had been stabbed too, worse than Thabang himself had been, which meant Dumani was on Thabang’s side. But why had he pissed himself? That could only mean trouble. Dumani was up to no good. What kind of no good, Thabang just didn’t know. Not yet anyway, but he soon would.

  Just wait and see , they say. He shoved his peeping balls back through the tear in his pants. They were getting a little bit itchy. Itching for the little doctor’s soft hands. He would make sure she had a good feel of them when the chance came, let her feel what the balls of a real man felt like. He was now sure that results of their deal were starting to show. Otherwise how could one explain the fact that since he got recruited into the deal his balls had been growing at a faster rate than before? Ah, Damon knew what he was doing. Him or the person he worked for.

  We’ll be getting paid babe, just keep growing bigger and bigger so we can get the doctor.

  He suspected that Mothusi’s intention had been to botch the deal all along. But then he had wanted to chop Ngano up, which meant he had wanted the guy dead. Then Thabang remembered: Dumani had said Mothusi’s intention had been to kill Ngano in the first place, not to capture him, therefore, Mothusi must have been out to betray him and Dumani all along. Or maybe Dumani was out to betray him too, but not yet.

  Thabang was tempted to give Mothusi a taste of what his fists were like, but then he thought of the axe. It was too sharp and too near Mothusi. If it landed on his skull, he’d have to forget about the promised wealth for good, as well as that beautiful doctor. Yemewee! He would never get a chance to see her again. He had promised her he’d come back and see her again. He reckoned she’d be devastated if he returned as a corpse. Wait until he got his teeth fixed then he’d be able to give her a good smile too. He smiled at the thought of her smile.

  “You think this is funny?” said Dumani in annoyance.

  “No, I don’t think so. We’re both in pain here,” said Thabang.

  “So why are you grinning?”

  “Am I not allowed to smile?”

  “Just that your gums are a little annoying, that’s all. Keep them in your mouth.”

  Thabang let this one go. He suspected Dumani was still sore at the fact that the beautiful doctor liked him. He couldn’t wait to bury him once this deal was over. He might even bury him alive. He would see. Just wait and see.

  There was no talking for a while. Dumani was busy nursing his wounds. Thabang was nursing his wound a
nd thinking that it would be nice to pour a little bit of salt on each of Dumani’s wounds and see how the bastard reacted to that.

  “We need to go to the hospital,” suggested Dumani.

  Exactly what Thabang had been wishing for. Just wait and see. Things were going the right way. Maybe the whole idea was that as soon as they had the victim — even before they delivered him — a spell would be cast and their wealth would start to come in waves. Seeing that doctor for a second time was sure wealth in itself. This time he couldn’t control his grin. Dumani looked at him for a while then clucked his tongue in annoyance and opened the door.

  “Wait for me!” said Mothusi in a feminine voice while getting up from the floor at the same time.

  “He took the car!” exclaimed Dumani.

  “Shit! Shit! I’m going to kill this guy when we find him!” said Thabang.

  “No, we can’t kill the guy. We need him alive.”

  “What do we do now?”

  “Relax man, this is Lentsweng, we will find transport. It’s not like we’re in Bokalakeng cattle post here.

  The taxi man refused to take them to the hospital, bluntly pointing out that he suspected they were criminals, and threatened to call the Police. They were criminals of course, except that none of them wanted anyone to know about it. Dumani offered to pay double the normal price for the cab. The taxi driver softened up, but still refused to take them. Dumani offered three times the normal fare, and this time the taxi driver’s eyes lightened up and he told them to jump in, warning that if they tried any criminal activities on him or his car, he’d call the cops or personally drop them off at the Police station.

  The taxi man refused to drop them off in front of the Emergency Department and dropped them by the bus stop and sped away instead.

  Thabang was in pain, but the thought of that little doctor made him forget about it. He couldn’t wait. He was leading as they walked into the hospital premises. He was going to give her a long hug as soon as he saw her. Squeeze that soft body and let her feel what the body of a real man felt and smelt like. He had the smell.

  It had got him many a woman. He just didn’t know why, but the smell seemed to draw women to him. Unfortunately sometimes it attracted the wrong women, like his wife for instance. But this time it had got him a real catch. He wanted to make sure she at least accidentally touch him down there during the hug. His big balls would sure impress her. Shit, they were getting a little sore. Growing bigger and bigger daily.