As they entered the Accident & Emergency Department, Thabang looked around, ready to give his best smile the minute he saw her. She wasn’t in sight. He knew she’d come, though. She must have been caught up somewhere. The first time he came down here she wasn’t in sight until he was behind the curtains.
“Hey, we are injured,” said Thabang to the first nurse he lay eyes upon. She wasn’t bad either, but he preferred the little doctor. The nurse looked at Thabang, then Dumani, then Mothusi, then back at Thabang and an amused look smudged itself on her face.
“What happened to you two?” said the nurse, stifling a laugh. There were a few people around the nurses’ station, a few nurses and two doctors. They too, seemed to be stifling laughter.
Thabang hadn’t thought of what he’d say happened to them. He had been too excited at the prospect of seeing the little doctor again to think of such things. He looked at Dumani, the brain of the team. But his mind seemed blank too. He looked at Mothusi. Mothusi’s lips were moving, but he seemed to have word-finding difficulties.
Finally Mothusi said, “We got attacked by a thief and he stabbed these two.” Come to think of it, the guy was right: they had been stabbed by a thief. Mothusi was trying to steal their potential wealth. He scared their target off and now they’d lost him. Fuckin’ bastard.
“Did you report to the Police?” said the nurse. “No. I thought it would be best to bring these two to hospital first because I feared they might bleed to death.”
Bloody thief. Thabang looked around again but still couldn’t see his future wife.
Relax Thabang, she’ll come.
The nurse came from behind the counter and led them to different cubicles, drew the curtains and left. Thabang’s was the same cubicle as last time. My lucky room. He waited. Each time he heard footsteps, he prepared himself to smile. But he got disappointed every time the footsteps disappeared. The worst disappointment, though, came when the curtains to the cubicle drew apart. He heard them being drawn, prepared his best smile and looked up. Standing right in front of him was an ugly male doctor. He, too, had a smile on his face.
Dumani reopened the curtains as soon as the nurse had left. He just couldn’t trust anyone right now, including Mothusi and Thabang. Last time they were here, Thabang had said something about the hospital and body parts, said something to the effect that he suspected the hospital may be involved in ritual killings.
Maybe he knew for a fact, which was why Dumani opened the curtains. He feared that the hospital may be preparing to kill him. He waits with the curtains closed and the next thing they give him a lethal jab from the other side of the curtain then take his body, cut it up and sell it to other people. That’s probably what they did to Eric’s body.
That’s why they were so quick to take his body away. In Dumani’s opinion, if someone is clearly dead, there is no need to take his body away with that sort of urgency.
If someone is dead, there is nothing you can do about it, so there is no hurry in taking the body away, as long as you keep the vultures and other scavengers at bay. Unless, of course, you’re interested in body parts.
Dumani suddenly felt more scared than before. He paced around, peered along the corridor, got even more scared when he saw two people pushing a bed that had what looked like a dead body on it. He went back to his chair because he was getting shortness of breath, chest pain, pins and needles in his hands and was sweating like hell. The hospital must have subtly given him a lethal jab. He was dying. He heard cluttering of footfalls down the corridor coming down his way. They were coming for him.
By the time they get here, Dumani, you’ll be dead and they’ll simply cut you up. Just sit there and relax, there is nothing you can do about it. Too late, Dumani.
He closed the curtains and sat back in the chair. The footsteps were getting uncomfortably closer. The curtains were drawn apart. Dumani looked up. His fear was instantly replaced by a smile, because standing right in front of him was the little doctor Thabang was obsessed with. Thabang was wrong. She wasn’t interested in him. She was interested in Dumani.
Just as the doctor was examining his wound, Thabang saw Eric. He had a bandage around his head and an idiotic smile on his face. He was in a wheelchair, pushed by a young wiry man. At first Thabang thought he was dreaming, or hallucinating, or both. He blinked twice and shouted, “Eric!”
But Eric simply looked over at Thabang and ignored him. The hospital must have done something to him so he wouldn’t recognize people he knew.
The doctor looked at Thabang, a look of surprise on his face, and said, “Huh?”
“That was Eric in the wheelchair, wasn’t it?”
The doctor looked out at the corridor then back at Thabang and said, “Who are you talking about?”
“The guy who died in the van I was in a few days ago. I just saw him.”
The doctor looked puzzled. He must have known what happened to Eric.
“Which accident?”
“It happened a few days ago, right here in front of the hospital. I escaped with no injuries whatsoever.”
“Oh, you mean that horrible accident? You were involved?”
“Yes. I came here and saw the other doctor.”
The doctor picked up his file, screwed his face and said, “Oh, I see, it’s right here that you discharged yourself against medical advice?”
“Of course. We had some business to take care off. I told the doctor I’d be back.”
Thabang thought of asking him where the little doctor was, but thought better of it. It was enough having Dumani being jealous. He didn’t want to make the doctor jealous too, just in case. He was despairing though because he feared she may have been despairing, missing him, you know. From his experience, despair breeds desperation, and people make wrong choices when they’re in that state of mind. So Thabang feared the doctor may have chosen the wrong guy, not knowing that he was right here where he was the last time they were together.
“Where is that doctor, by the way?”
“Which one?”
“The one that I saw the last time?”
The doctor looked at the file again and said, “Oh, Dr Moribo. She is seeing another patient.”
“Thanks doctor. Not that I’ve anything against you or anything, but I told her I’ll be back. Any chance I could see her instead?”
“Do you remember the ugly guy from the last time?” Dumani said as the little doctor examined his wounds.
“Which guy?” she said, an amused look on her face.
“The one I came down to collect the other time.” She had to remember Thabang. You don’t forget a guy like him. You see him and you get nightmares for three nights in a row. Children run away sometimes when they see him.
“I see a lot of patients daily, so I wouldn’t be able to remember who you’re talking about.”
Whatever she was doing to his wounds was hurting, but he stayed still. He didn’t want to give her the impression that he was a softy.
“Big ugly guy who smelt of urine.”
“I see a lot of patients who fit that description every day. Sir, you must remember this is a hospital and urine smell is quite common around here.”
This made Dumani a little jealous because Thabang always smelt of urine. And now the little doctor was saying urine smell was resident around here, which meant Thabang belonged here with the doctor. Maybe the bastard was right after all. The twinge of jealousy tightened its grip further the more Dumani thought about it. Maybe he should let off a bit of urine, give it a few days to let the smell build up then come back and see what the doctor has to say about that. She might change her mind then.
“He thinks you like him, but I know you don’t.”
She ignored him. He wondered if this was a sign that she wasn’t interested in him. But then sometimes women ignore a guy they like. They can play hard to get, so you got to be one step ahead at all times.
She poked at one of the wounds on his shoulder and this time he winced.
He told her a variation of Mothusi’s thief story. So believable. Mothusi was creative.
You need creative people in this business.
“The wounds on your shoulders will require stitches. The rest just need dressing, that’s all.”
“Okay doctor.”
It was possible she just wanted an excuse to spend more time with him.
“Just wait here and I’ll be back.” There you go.
The ugly doctor was hurting Thabang. The way he was examining his wounds, there was just something not right about it. He shouldn’t have mentioned the little doctor to him. Now the doctor was jealous and punishing Thabang by poking at his wounds. He should just have made an excuse, like saying he was off to the toilet then go and find his little doctor. She could be out there worried sick about him. Ah, but he’ll find her.
“I’m sorry, but she is busy,” the doctor said. “But I told her I’d be back.”
He poked at his wound harder this time. Thabang
winced and nearly cursed. To make matters worse, the doctor had bad breath. As if the punishment he had already meted out wasn’t enough, as he examined Thabang, he leaned very close to Thabang’s nose, nearly choking him with the bad breath. He really shouldn’t have brought up the little doctor.
“We are all very busy here. You’ll need stitches.”
I
sat on the sofa and did some thinking. I saw my life flashing before me. I wondered what I'd done to deserve this. I cried and stared
blankly at the little TV while waiting for my phone to charge. I tried to call my father while the phone was charging. There was no answer, so I tried to call my mother. Her phone rang out. Then I tried to call my wife. Her phone went straight to voicemail. I cried more. I couldn’t make any sense of all this. I had seen my mother in hospital where I had massaged her arm. Now my father was saying she had never been in hospital.
Darkness slowly descended upon the town as I sat musing. My fear of the dark intensified. To make matters worse, there was no street lighting in this part of town. Despite all my fears, sleep slowly weighed down upon me. I dragged myself to the mattress and fell asleep instantly.
At first I thought I was dreaming. I pinched myself and felt pain. I knew then that I wasn't dreaming. I listened more attentively. I heard it again. A sound. Footsteps. Low voices, all around the house. All the sleepiness evaporated from me. I went over to the window and peeped out. Even staring hard into the darkness, I couldn't see anything. I wished the street lights were functioning.
But I could hear someone fiddling with the door handle. I went back to the bedroom and closed the door. I couldn’t lock it as there was no key. I heard the front door opening. I flipped on the lights. Nothing doing. Rushed to the kitchen. Flicked on the switch. Nothing doing. Deep darkness. And I knew there was somebody in the house. And that somebody had cut off the electricity. It had to be someone who not only knew what they were doing, but was also very determined to get me. My heart pounded away, making me fear I might get a heart attack.
I couldn't hear their footsteps, but I could feel their presence, even felt their breath on my neck. I whirled around and kicked blindly, then heard a groan. Invigorated by fear, I groped around in the darkness. My hands felt the back of a human being. Doubled up in pain? I placed my hands on their shoulders, pushed them towards where I thought the wall was, kicked them in the groin and I heard another groan. It was a male because I felt a beard. While he was still doubled up in pain, I groped around in the darkness again and found a metallic object, which I picked up and smashed against the intruder blindly. I didn't care what part of the body I hit him on. He yelped and managed to open the door and rushed out. I ran after him, but stopped immediately. It was too dark. He — or colleagues if he had any — could be waiting out there.
I went back into the house and banged the door behind me. I was about to lock the door when I realised the lock had been destroyed. This meant he could come back any time. I rang Modiri. The phone rang out. Infuriated and frustrated, I tried again. This time he answered.
"Hello!" He was out of breath. I told him what had just happened and apologised for having to call him about it. "I've no choice as currently you're the only support I have."
He told me to leave the house urgently and come over but he wouldn't be able to pick me up. I would have to call a taxi. I told him I couldn't. He agreed to call one for me. The taxi arrived within minutes. I gave the driver the directions to Modiri's house. He sped and within ten minutes we had arrived. I literally ran into Modiri's home as soon as I had paid the taxi fare.
My fear went up when I realised his car wasn't there. But the lights were on in the house. I knocked on the door, but got no answer. I knocked again, louder this time, but still no answer. I tried the door. It was locked. I was starting to get annoyed because I had thought he would be home when I got there. I took my phone out of my pocket. I was trembling. I looked around and saw shadows. I felt breath on my neck, but I knew it was all in my head. I dialled Modiri's number. His phone was either off or engaged. I paced around and found a little rock and a stick which I picked up and carried as I paced, prepared to bash any intruder. Just as I was about to try his number again, Modiri arrived in a rush, his car almost leaping into the air as he drove in. He nearly hit me. He parked very close to the wall of the house and jumped out. He was panting and in panic mode.
"We need to go inside," he said as soon as he hopped out of the car. He wouldn't look at me. And that made me feel guilty even more. I could see the regret on his face, regret of having got involved in the first place.
"What's going on?" I asked. Stumbling over his words, he said, "I got attacked and nearly got kidnapped. The same men that are after your life. The same men from yesterday. I was coming out of a friend’s house when they apprehended me. They must have followed me there." He turned around, pointed to the back of his head and said, "Look."
I looked and flinched: the back of his head was swollen and caked with blood.
"The men that tried to kidnap me said they’re warning me for the last time to stay out of this or else they kill me."
I looked at him for a long time and fought the urge to cry. Now I was alone and stranded. I had nowhere to go. Should I give myself up to these men, if only for the sake of my family?
My phone rang. Unknown number. I answered. Tears streamed into my eyes when I heard my wife's voice, panicky as usual.
"You have to save us. Please, do this for us. The men say they'll not harm you if you give yourself up. Please, do this for us." She started to cry. "Otherwise they'll kill us."
"Where are you exactly?"
"Find a man called Thapelo. He knows. He lives in Motsheng. Please. We've been given twenty-four hours to live if you don’t give in."
"Where do I find him? And who is he?"
She reeled off his number and hung up.
Although I knew she was probably ringing from a different phone, I rang my wife's number. As expected, it went straight to voicemail.
"I've to go to Motsheng," I said to Modiri.
He looked at me in disbelief.
"You know you can't do that. Besides, it’s late." he said.
"I've got to." I told him about what my wife had just said.
"What if this is a trap?"
"My wife wouldn't do that to me. She is in danger and she needs me. I'll do whatever I can to save her and my children. I only need one last favour from you."
He looked at me with what must have been fear in his eyes and said, "What is it?"
"Lend me your car."
He was silent for a while, thinking, assessing the dangers of lending me his car, of being involved in all this. Finally he said, "But look after it."
"I will."
He gave me the keys and I plunged into the night, nosing the car down roads I wasn't familiar with.
It was dawn by the time I arrived in Motsheng. I drove
to Mosto's, the local shebeen. I weighed my options. Should I ring Thabang now or wait until the morning? Now might prove to be dangerous. Thabang could be involved in the whole scheme. He could turn out to be dangerous. Dangerous people love the darkness. No, I decided to ring him in the morning. I drove to where the butchery used to be, racked the seat back, sat back, locked the car and tried to get some sleep. To my surprise, before long I fell asleep. I had somebody would recognise me and call the cops. But then people in this part of the country don’t call cops. They rough you up and, if you’re really lucky, they’ll call the cops at the end.
I woke up just as morning was taking over from dawn. My head was sore. In fact, my whole body was. I drove away from the butchery and went to park by Mosto’s. What worried me was that people down here were very inquisitive. They see a strange car parked in one place for a long time, they start asking themselves questions. Next thing one or two — or even the entire village — come over to have a look at who was in the car. Then, as they say, the rest would be history: I would find himself in the hands of the Police. So I decided on parking for a little while, then drive around the village before coming back here. After two laps dawn would have completely given over to morning and the shebeen would become busier.
At around 8 am I couldn't keep my fingers off the phone: I dialled the number my wife had given me. My heart thumped hard as I waited for the phone to ring. What if it didn't ring? Luckily it did. A croaky voice answered, "Hello!"
"Hello. This is Ngano. My wife gave me your number."
"Who is your wife?"
"Margaret. She was kidnapped and said you may be able to help."
There was silence and for a moment I thought the guy had hung up. But then he said, "We shouldn't be talking about this on the phone. You'll get me in trouble with these people."
"Okay. Let's meet at the shebeen. I'm near there."
"We can't meet in a public place. These people are dangerous. Do you know where the dam is?"
The Other Four Page 23