The Other Four

by Nsununguli Mbo

  "Yes, I do."

  "Meet me there at 9 am."

  He hung up. My adrenaline didn't.

  As I approached the dam, I started having second thoughts. What if this was a setup like Modiri suspected? What if my wife had been under duress when she talked to me? What if she had been made to set me up? I suddenly became more scared than I ever was. The dam, which I had been to before, looked menacing today. The birds were doing their morning chorales, occasionally taking sips of water from the dam. The area was otherwise unusually quiet. Normally around this time, one would see boys scattered around the dam, setting up traps for birds. But then this was a school day, so that could explain why, and perhaps why I was being set up right at this very venue.

  Go back home. She was under duress.

  I ignored my inner voice and drove as close to the dam as was possible. I parked underneath a large tree and stayed in the car, engine running, and looked around warily, listening out for any warning sounds — footsteps or human sounds. But I couldn't hear anything. Not because there were none, but because my heart was too loud. It was all I could hear. And the chirping birds.

  Time was 8:30 am. The reason I came early was so that I'd see whoever came down this way before they decided it was me that brought the car. I was hoping that something about them would give me an idea as to whether they might be dangerous or not, although I couldn’t guess what exactly that would be. Or maybe I should have left the car somewhere further away from the dam and came to hide somewhere? No, that would make escape difficult if it became necessary. I was banking on the idea that Thapelo would have no car. Not many people had cars down here. But then who said he was from around here?

  I killed the engine, listened more attentively, got out of the car, locked it and walked towards the dam slowly. On second thought, I decided it was best to hide. Sitting by the dam would make me vulnerable. I walked towards a nearby bush and hid behind a tree.

  And that turned out to be one hell of a mistake. I don't know where the blow came from. I just felt searing pain at the back of my neck. I lost balance and fell into a copse. Thorns pierced my skin. I tried to get up, but my assailant kicked me in the guts. I thought I was going to faint, but I didn't. I went into a fight or flight mode. I chose to fight. A surge of energy swept through my body and I pushed myself off the ground and kicked my assailant in the nuts. He doubled in pain. I was about to deliver another kick, only this time to his head, when he stood up straight and got hold of my foot like a good goalkeeper. He twisted it and pushed against it at the same time. I screamed in pain and fell backwards.

  He towered over me, growled, spat on me. He clamped me down with his foot, a possible size 13, and pushed down. I feared he was going to crush my guts but at some point he eased off on the pressure but kept his foot on me.

  I tried to focus on his face, see if I recognized him, but my vision was blurry. He was just a large, hazy, angry figure. He opened his fly and peed on me. I told myself this was it. Not just for me, but for my wife and children. They were going to die. My wife had been made to set me up.

  When he finished pissing on me, he easily lifted me up and threw me over his right shoulder. I decided he was the most uncivilised person I’d ever met in my life. A scum. A gorilla. I cursed and called him names because I knew I was finished. Whatever I did, I was done. But the gorilla was unfazed by my insults. He growled and carried me towards the dam. When he reached the dam's bank, he flung me into the water, walked in and pressed me down in an attempt to drown me. I saw darkness. I felt Death.

  Then suddenly the pressure eased off. I was feeling weak, but the fear of impending death can give you unbelievable strength sometimes. I pushed my head from underneath the water and gasped for air. I saw him disappearing into the area where he'd initially assaulted me, running like hell. Then I realised why: three people were approaching the dam. This meant he didn't want to be seen. But did I really want to be seen myself either? The answer was no. I frantically swam out and limped towards the car. As I ran, I searched for my car keys. They were not there.

  My cell phone, too, was missing. Although I knew I had locked it, I went to the car and tried the door. Nothing doing. I walked towards the thicket where the gorilla had attacked me, hoping that he wasn't hiding there. I looked around underneath the copse. Thankfully the car keys were there. I looked all over for my phone but couldn't find it. I needed the phone.

  My head suddenly went empty. I went to the car, unlocked it, jumped in and quickly locked it. My cell phone was on the passenger seat. I had three missed calls, one from an unknown number, the others from Modiri. I started the car, put it in gear and drove off. As I joined the wider untarred road that led away from the dam, I dialled Modiri's number. Before the phone could ring an SMS came through. I hung up and went to the message. It was from Modiri.

  Hav very important info. Can’t discus ova 4ne. U r being set up. U'v 2 leave immediately.

  I contemplated ringing him back, but decided against it. This was getting deeper than I'd originally thought. Like Modiri had warned, I shouldn't have come here in the first place. I threw my cell phone back on the passenger seat and accelerated. It rang almost immediately. Without slowing the car, I answered.

  "Please, you've to help us!" my wife said.

  All I could hear in her voice was panic. Except this time she sounded like she was outside, not in a house like previously.

  "Where are you?"

  "You were set up. I found out just after I'd spoken to you. I think they intentionally mentioned that Thapelo had betrayed them and was trying to save you in front of me. I think they intentionally left their phone behind knowing I’d call Thapelo and make you arrange to meet with him. It was a…”

  "Where are you?" I was getting impatient. All I needed was her whereabouts, then I'd take it from there.

  "Hello! Hello! Are you still there?"

  "Yes. I said..."

  Reception was very poor.

  "I managed to escape, but without the children. I..."

  "Where are you?"

  "Huh?"

  "Where are you?"

  "Hello!"

  "Hello!"

  "I broke my leg while I was trying to escape. I need you urgently. Please!"

  "Where are you?"

  "I'm not sure where I am. No, hang on a minute."

  I could hear her feet crushing dry leaves and twigs, probably somewhere out in the bush.

  "Hello!" she said.

  "Hello! Where are you?"

  "I think I know where I am. Do you know the area where we once came to fetch firewood?"

  "Which one?"

  "Where you nearly got bitten by a little snake." "Yes."

  "I'll wait here, behind the baobab tree." "Okay."

  We hung up. I knew the area very well. The snake was a little creature that had jumped from the piece of wood I had been chopping and wrapped itself around my leg. It had been just about to deliver a venomous bite when I swiftly swung the axe and chopped its head off, grazing my leg in the process. It would have wiped out my life had it been quicker than me. And now I was going to the very same place where my life nearly got wiped out, this time to save my wife.

  My wife was not behind the baobab tree when I arrived at the spot or anywhere around there.

  I called out her name several times.

  My desperation climbed a further rung up each time I called out her name.

  I tried her cell phone, but there was no reception. That's when it dawned on me that this could be another setup. Because if I had no reception, then my wife couldn't have had reception either if indeed she was here when she made the call because we were both on Orange Network.

  As soon as I put my phone back in my pocket, I was proven right: this was a setup. A man wearing a balaclava jumped out of the bushes and literally flew towards me. But I was prepared. I stepped out of the way. He landed on the ground with a thud. Stupid bastard. I found a little log and smashed it on the back of his head and ran to the
car without reviewing the results of what I'd just done. I unlocked the car, hopped in and started the engine, looking around warily all the time, thinking that probably the man was not alone. I had made up my mind: I was going back to Lentsweng. Despite all that had happened while I was there, I felt it was a lot safer than here. Besides, that's where the Police were. If push came to shove, I'd go to them and hope for the best. A Police cell would be safer.

  I'd just joined the Tsebeyatonki-Lentsweng road when Modiri rung. I answered on the second ring.

  "Hello!" he said, sounding out of breath.

  "Where are you, man?"

  I told him what had just happened.

  Anger evident in his voice, he said, "Look, man, I'm trying to help you here and you don't listen to my advice. I don't want to abandon you, but you're pushing me to do so. You need to get here quick. Your wife just called me."

  My heart threatened to leap up to my throat. "She has been trying to ring you but your phone was off. She..."

  "Where is she?"

  "Let me finish. She managed to grab a lift and is on her way to Lentsweng to her aunt's."

  "What about the children? Has she reported to the Police?"

  "That's where the problem is. She had to leave the children behind. And she can't report to the Police."

  "Why?"

  "Because top people are involved. So are the Police. This thing is deeper than you had thought and I’m starting to fear for my life. This is really scary stuff and by helping you I could be digging myself a very deep hole. I’ll help, but only on condition that you listen when I advise you."

  My heart sank. Despite Modiri's unwavering support, I felt more alone than ever.

  Top people are involved.

  "Yes, I really appreciate and apologise for ignoring your valuable advice. Did she tell you anything else?"

  "Yes."

  "What?"

  "That's why you need to get here sooner than later. Time is running out. And the rest of what she told me, I can't discuss over the phone."

  Caring less about attracting the Police's attention, I drove like a maniac.

  I

  arrived in Lentsweng at midday. Luckily enough there had been no speed cameras on the way. I'd rung Modiri on my way here and

  he said to meet him at Tlogelang Bojalwa Bar, a popular bar located in Hebron. I parked in the car park behind the bar. He'd said he'd be waiting under a tree just by the car park, but he wasn't there. I feared he could be in trouble.

  I suddenly became suspicious. What if Modiri, too, had been forced to set me up? I looked around suspiciously. There were a few drunks around, staggering and talking gibberish. But I couldn't trust any of them. I went and sat in the car, locked the doors and started the engine although I didn't drive away. I just sat there, at the ready should anything out of the ordinary spring up. It was starting to get dark. I tried Modiri's phone, but it was still off. I decided to wait a little longer.

  After a while I drove to Modiri's house. He was not home. This meant he could be in trouble somewhere. Those villains probably had him. I couldn't stay in his house because I had a feeling they were coming for me, too. The temptation to go to the Police intensified.

  I knew I had to leave this place, but where would I go? I drove out of Modiri's yard and joined the nearby main road. I tried my mother's phone. It was off. Should I go to the hospital? The hospital would be safe enough. I didn't think those goons would dare do anything to me at the hospital. I started to drive in the direction of the hospital. My phone rang. Modiri.

  "Hello! Where are you?" I said. "I'm at a friend's place. My phone was out of battery. Do you know your way around Blue City?"

  "Sort of."

  "That's where I am. Do you know the little shop next to Manyana Secondary School?"

  "Yes."

  "Three houses down from there is a blue house. That's where I am."

  "Okay. I should be there in about fifteen minutes."

  "Okay."

  We hung up.

  I was exhausted and feared I would sleep behind the wheel. But what choice had I?

  I arrived in Blue City fifteen minutes later, parked the car in front of the blue house and jumped out. The adrenaline was pumping harder. I wondered what else Modiri had to say that he couldn’t tell me about on the phone. Could my children be dead?

  I looked around and listened. I stared at the house. I couldn’t see anybody. I rung Modiri, but got the voicemail. Then I remembered he'd said something about having little power in his phone. I cautiously approached the house, then listened at front of the door. I could hear the drone of the television. Cartoons. Then the innocent sound of a child laughing. I knocked on the door. No answer. I knocked again. The volume of the TV was lowered. The laughing child complained. The owner of the voice — a man by the sound of it — told the child to shut up. I knocked again. Footsteps approached the door. My heart beat fast. The door cracked open. A heavily bearded face I'd never seen before peered at me.

  "How may I help you?" the heavily bearded man said.

  "Is Modiri here?"

  "Who?"

  "A friend of mine called Modiri said to meet him here."

  "Oh, you're the guy. Come in. He just left but should be back soon."

  You're the guy. I wondered what that meant. This didn’t sound good at all but I still went in. The laughing child would be about five or thereabouts. He was absorbed in Tom and Jerry and wouldn't look away from the TV when I walked in. The bearded man led me through the house to a backyard where two other men were sitting and drinking. I'd never seen them before either. I was introduced as "the guy who is friends with that guy." They were all sitting on battered plastic chairs.

  "Sit," the one who brought me in said, indicating an empty chair.

  The chair wobbled as I sat. There was a cooler box next to my chair. A local tune was blaring from a little CD player with a broken aerial and one of the men was bobbing his head back and forth in enjoyment while smoking what I suspected to be ganja.

  "Where did Modiri go?" I asked nervously.

  The one smoking the weed laughed raucously and said, "Chilax man. This is not the end of the world. Get yourself a beer in the cooler and chilax."

  "I don't drink."

  "Everybody does here in town."

  He stood up and handed me a can of Black Label. I took it. Come to think of it, I needed it. I popped it open, took a sip and grimaced at the taste.

  The guy who is friends with that guy. I wondered what they meant by that, but it didn’t sound good. They were referring to Modiri as “that guy” because they didn’t know his name, which meant could only mean one thing: I shouldn’t trust these people. I got set up twice in the last few hours, so this could be very well another setup. I started feeling uneasy, looking for possible exits just in case.

  I told myself to relax. Now that I thought of it, Modiri had sounded relaxed on the phone, which meant he couldn’t have been made to set me up. But then my wife had sounded like she was making the calls when I spoke to her, yet she unknowingly set me up.

  My antenna went up, listening out for things that are out of the ordinary. Any signs of any such, I’ll run like hell.

  The men chatted amongst themselves like I didn't exist. I felt self-conscious, as a result of which I took sips off my beer more often than everyone else. The weed smoker realised my beer was nearing the bottom of the can and forced me to have another one. Their conversation was disorganised. One minute they were talking about women, the next minute about politics. Or maybe my mind was too muddled to follow what they were saying?

  I never got to find out because just then my phone rang. I stood up and went to answer it, away from the thugs. I didn’t recognize the number.

  “Hello,” I said, glancing over at the thugs to make sure they couldn’t hear me.

  There was hissing at the other end.

  “Hello!” I said desperately. I was sure it was my wife calling.

  The hissing sound again. I
looked at my phone screen. I was still connected.

  “Hello!” I said, losing patience.

  I now doubted if it was my wife. I wondered who it could me. But I never found out because suddenly I was hit on the head hard and darkness descended upon me.

  When I came to I was bound and moving. I was in the back of a van of some sort. I had pain all over. My eyes were swollen shut. There was nothing in the surroundings but bush. The van was moving slowly, negotiating a narrow and circuitous path. I was thrown all over as the van lurched around.

  I moved my hands, hoping that whoever had tied me had made the same mistake those bastards made when they bound me the last time. No luck this time. I was very strongly bound. I resigned myself to whatever was in store for me. I peed on myself and slammed my back against the van, producing as much noise as I could, the better to annoy my kidnappers. Suddenly I recognized my surroundings. I recognized the spot where I’d once got bitten by a snake, near the baobab tree. It dawned on me that my captors were those gangsters, that Modiri had been made to set me up, that he could be in grave danger, probably as much as I was. And the guilt gnawed at me.

  I shouldn’t have got him involved, because, if indeed top people and the Police were involved, they were going to get me at some point regardless of whether I had help or not. This made me think I should simply have given handed myself in to the Police.

  And where were my wife and children? What if they were in even more grave danger than I was? What if they were in fact dead? I bawled and banged my back hard against the van repeatedly.

  The van stopped. A door opened. The van’s canopy’s door was flung open. And Cargo Pants’ face appeared, a scowl smudged across it. He pulled me closer to him by the right leg and slapped me hard across the right cheek then growled, “Behave yourself you fool. You do this again, the next time I come around here I’ll cut your throat.”

  I bawled harder. He slammed the canopy door shut and went back into the van. I was driven deeper into the bush until we reached what I suspected to be a cattle post. I was sure I had never been here before. I could hear cattle mooing, cowbells and herdsmen whistling. The van slowed and finally stopped. I could hear louder sounds, of people talking loudly over music. These were the unmistakable sounds of a shebeen.