by Lily Herne
Then we were moved out of the city, and the stadium was destroyed. Some were taken far away, to the agricultural enclaves, but me and my father, we were brought to what was to become the city enclave. At first we did not recognise where we were. The ground was black and burned, the buildings and many of the trees were gone. Then we realised! We were back in Khayelitsha! The first thing we did was try to find our old house, but nothing was the same.
At first life was like being back in the refugee camps, like the one my father and I came to when we left Malawi for the first time, and where we were sent for a short time in Messina. We all had to camp together in these very large army tents and those who were not injured were sent to work. I was sent to work building the fence – which was small at first, not like it is today. After all this time, I do not know if the fence was created to keep us in, or to keep the dead out. But either way, I was helping to build a prison, of that I am sure.
Some say it is aliens that made the dead wake up. Or maybe it was an angry god or demons. Just like some say that it is God who sent the Guardians to save us. Like I have said, I have seen many terrible things during this time and life will never be as it was. You see –
My door creaked open, and I quickly shoved the book under my pillow.
‘Are you awake, Leletia?’ The Mantis entered the room.
‘Yeah,’ I said.
‘Were you reading something?’ she asked. She never missed a trick.
‘Just history homework,’ I said.
‘I see. And why would you want to hide that?’
Crap. I had to think fast. ‘I thought you’d be angry if you saw I was still awake?’
‘But it’s still early. And you didn’t eat supper.’
‘Not hungry.’
‘Everything okay at school?’
‘Fine.’
She was looking slightly antsy about something, which wasn’t like her at all. ‘The embassy is showing a film tomorrow evening,’ she said. ‘I thought it would be nice if all of us went together.’
What she meant was that it would look weird if I didn’t show my face – I knew she wanted everyone to think we were some sort of happy family.
‘Okay,’ I said. The thought of seeing a movie again was too much of a temptation to resist.
‘Wonderful!’ she smiled at me. She didn’t look like such a bitch when she smiled.
‘Is that it?’ I asked.
‘Leletia, it would mean so much to your father if we could just get along.’
‘Okay,’ I said, remembering Thabo’s advice from earlier in the day to ‘play their game’. ‘That’s fine by me.’
The look of shocked surprise on her face almost made the lie worth it. But now there was something else on my mind. The thought of Thabo had made my stomach do that swooping thing. I remembered the feel of his breath on my cheek and his cute lopsided grin. And sometimes, I wasn’t absolutely sure, but sometimes I thought I could sense him looking at me.
‘Cleo? Can I ask you a question?’
‘Sure.’
This was embarrassing. ‘How do you know if someone likes you?’
‘What do you mean, Lele? You mean, like a boy?’
‘Or a girl.’
She started slightly, but her smile didn’t slip. ‘I think the question you should ask yourself is if you like . . . this person,’ she said. She touched the area just below her ribs. ‘You feel it here. Your stomach dances, and if it lasts for more than a week, then you could have something special.’
‘Okaaaay,’ I said. ‘But what if he – or she – likes you. How can you tell?’
‘You can see it in their eyes. They flicker. Like a light going on.’ The Mantis’s voice had become almost dreamy, and for a couple of seconds I thought I could actually see what it was Dad saw in her.
‘Is that how you felt when you met Dad?’ I asked.
‘Yes,’ she said simply.
‘Thanks,’ I said, faking a yawn. There was no way we were going to get all pally-pally suddenly. She could forget that idea. ‘I should get some sleep.’
‘Sure,’ she said. ‘Good night, Leletia – Lele.’
She crept out, closing the door softly behind her. As soon as she was gone I pulled the book out from underneath the pillow and turned back to the page I had been reading. One day, I thought, I’d like to meet the guy who wrote this story. Go up to him and say, thanks. Thanks for being honest and not messing with the truth.
9
I had a lot to think about on the walk to school the next day, although if I’m honest I mostly thought about Thabo. I tried to convince myself that there was no way he’d ever look at me in that way, not when he could have his pick of the girls in class, but there was still a tiny kernel of hope that refused to die.
I was so lost in my daydreams that I almost walked straight past the crowd that had gathered around the gate. Acid Face Pelosi and several of the older students were speaking in low voices, tutting and shaking their heads. Then I saw it.
The words ANZ: Red not Dead had been spray-painted over the Malema High sign, the red letters completely obscuring the breath of fresh air motto.
Acid Face Pelosi caught sight of me. ‘Don’t dawdle, Leletia. Get inside!’
I secretly gave her the finger as she turned her back on me.
Once inside, I headed towards the sun sculpture. I could make out a thatch of dreadlocks above the heads of the students crowded around it. Thabo would know what was going on. But, as usual, he was surrounded by a bunch of girls, and I couldn’t summon up the nerve to approach him.
I wandered over to Zit Face instead. ‘What’s happening?’ I asked him.
He shrugged and pushed his glasses up his nose. ‘What do you think? The ANZ are up to their old tricks again.’
I nodded as if I knew what he was talking about, but at that stage I hadn’t even heard of the ANZ, let alone any of the tricks they got up to.
Acid Face Pelosi and Comrade Xhati strode towards us, serious expressions on their faces. ‘School will begin ten minutes later today,’ Acid Face Pelosi said. ‘There will be no morning prayers.’
I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face and Acid Face Pelosi scowled. ‘No need to look so pleased with yourself, Leletia,’ she snapped as the two of them stalked off towards the office.
‘Farm Girl probably did it,’ a familiar voice said behind me.
I whirled around. ‘What was that?’ I asked Zyed. ‘What did you just call me?’
‘Farm Girl,’ Zyed said. ‘Baaaaa.’
But I wasn’t going to let Zyed get away with dissing me again. ‘Get lost, Zyed. Go and pluck some feathers or something.’
Zyed smiled at me. A nasty, cold smile. ‘At least I don’t look as if I just fell off a vegetable wagon.’
‘No. You look like you just lost a fight with a flock of guineafowl.’
Several of the kids around us laughed, and Zyed’s smile slipped from his face. ‘Why don’t you go back to where you came from, Farm Girl?’
‘Farm Girl? Is that the best you can do? That’s really original.’
Zyed whispered something to Nyameka and Summer, who responded with their usual giggling fit.
‘Oh, I see how it is,’ I said, aware that part of me was now actually enjoying this. My heart was thumping in my chest, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. ‘You don’t have the guts to say what you’ve got to say to my face.’
My voice was getting louder and I began to realise that the pack of kids around us had stopped chattering and laughing.
‘Why would I bother wasting my breath on someone like you?’ Zyed said.
‘You tell me, Zyed. You’re the one that seems to have a problem with me. What did I ever do to you?’
He shook his head in disgust. ‘You’re not even a believer,’ he said. ‘You don’t belong here.’
‘I don’t want to belong here,’ I said. ‘You call me Farm Girl, but you lot are the sheep.’ I jumped in again before Zyed had a cha
nce to speak. ‘And in this school, I see that even the bitches run in packs. All three of them.’
He flinched. ‘What that supposed to mean?’
‘You know what I mean, Zyed.’
Summer and Nyameka looked slightly confused – my crack had obviously gone right over their heads – but Zyed knew what I meant. The thing was, I’d already sussed him out. It wasn’t the feathers. It wasn’t the hair. It was the way his eyes followed Thabo whenever he was around. That’s the thing about being an outsider: you notice things others don’t see.
It didn’t take him long to regain his composure, though. He flicked his hair and smiled that cruel smile. ‘You really want to know what I was saying about you?’
‘If you’ve got the guts to repeat it.’
‘I was just saying, it must run in the family.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Do I need to spell it out for you, Farm Girl? I heard your brother’s one of those freaky reject kids. Being a retard must be in the genes.’
The bolt of fury that jolted through me almost took my breath away; the mention of Jobe tipping me over the edge. Before I was even aware of what I was doing, I’d grabbed Zyed by the lapels of his jacket, and shoved him back against the sculpture. He was taller than me, but he was no match for the rage that surged through my veins. ‘You are so going to regret saying that,’ I yelled at him.
I raised my fist, planning to punch Zyed on the nose, but someone caught hold of my arm, and I felt myself being dragged backwards. ‘You don’t want to do that,’ a voice hissed in my ear. I struggled free and swung around. It was Thabo.
Zyed was smoothing the front of his jacket, and I felt a surge of triumph at his shocked expression. Summer and Nyameka looked equally traumatised.
‘Come on!’ Thabo said, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the gate.
‘Huh?’
‘We’re getting out of here.’
He dropped my arm and strode off. Zyed shot me a hate-filled glance as he and his clan started heading towards the office.
Thabo paused and turned around. ‘Well?’ he said. ‘You coming or not?’
This time I didn’t hesitate.
10
‘Where are we going?’ I asked Thabo, struggling to keep up with his long strides.
‘Away from this place.’
‘Won’t we get into trouble?’
‘Yeah,’ he said with a grin. ‘By the way, nice moves back there, Ninja Girl. You’re way stronger than you look.’
‘What’s a ninja?’ I asked.
He chuckled. ‘You got anything to eat?’
‘Yeah,’ I dug in my bag and handed him a roti.
‘Thanks, hey!’ he said, ripping into it. ‘This is good. Your mom make it?’
‘My mom’s dead.’
‘Snap.’
He ducked behind a stall selling Resurrectionist amulets and I followed him through a narrow covered alleyway that reeked of drains and stale cooking. It led straight into a partially tarred square, ringed with half-constructed buildings. A couple of workmen glanced at us curiously, but most of them ignored us.
‘Down here,’ Thabo said, leading me down another foul-smelling alleyway.
We emerged into a familiar thoroughfare, one of the busy market streets I’d explored on one of my journeys home. The market was doing a roaring trade, but then the crowd cleared and I caught sight of two robed Resurrectionists handing out pamphlets.
Thabo grinned at me. ‘Watch this.’
He raced up behind one of the Resurrectionists and pulled the hood down off his head, revealing long hair and a bright pink face. ‘Hey!’ the Resurrectionist shouted.
Thabo grabbed his pamphlets, threw them up into the air and, with another cheeky glance at me, set off running. Hardly able to believe what I’d just seen I raced after him.
He ducked into a narrow street and I hared after him. But I couldn’t see him anywhere. He’d disappeared.
‘Lele! Over here!’
I caught sight of his head poking out from behind a wooden dumpster. He was sitting in the shadowy space behind it.
I crawled in and sat down next to him. ‘Phew,’ I said. ‘It stinks here.’
‘You’ll get used to it. At least it’s out of the rain.’
He was right; the dumpster’s open lid, which was resting against the wall, formed a makeshift roof.
‘Did you see those Resurrectionists’ faces?’ he asked. ‘Dumbasses.’
‘But . . . I thought you were a believer?’ I pointed to the amulet around his neck.
‘I told you, Lele. Got to play their game.’
‘And how much trouble will we be in? At school, I mean.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’
‘But Zyed –’
‘Don’t worry about him. There’s no way he’ll want to rehash that fight.’ He looked at me meaningfully. ‘But you shouldn’t have said that, Lele. Implied that . . .’
‘That he liked boys? So what? What’s the big deal?’
‘It is a big deal. Don’t you know that the Resurrectionists are against same-sex relationships?’
‘But why?’
‘Think about it. They need us to breed, right? Keep the Guardians happy.’
My heart sank. Zyed was a vicious little snipe, no doubt, but I was suddenly overwhelmed with mortification.
‘Don’t beat yourself up,’ Thabo said. ‘He gave as good as he got.’ He leaned back against the wall, putting his legs up against the side of the dumpster. ‘So, you’re from the Agriculturals?’
‘Yeah.’
‘So you’ve been outside the enclave?’
‘I guess.’
His eyes lit up with excitement. ‘Through the Deadlands. Wow! I’ve never been outside. What was it like?’
‘I didn’t see anything.’
‘You must have seen something. Like, are the Deadlands totally overgrown now? You see any buildings?’
‘Seriously, Thabo. They brought us here at night, and the wagon had high wooden sides. You know, to stop the Rotters . . .’
I’d tried to push the memory of that journey out of my mind. Jobe, Chinwag and I squashed in with the other travellers in the pitch dark, trying not to think about Gran’s body stored on the roof with the others sent back to the city for ‘burial’. The wagon shook and jolted along for hours – the moans of the Rotters keeping us company; the occasional terrifying thunk as something large hurled itself against the slatted wooded sides. Everyone praying that the wood wouldn’t splinter; that one of us wouldn’t be snatched outside before the anonymous Guardians ferrying us had a chance to intervene. I shuddered at the thought.
‘You cold?’ Thabo asked.
‘I’m fine. So, Thabo, if you’re not a Resurrectionist, what are you doing at the school?’
‘The guy who adopted me after my folks died sent me here. Thought it would straighten me out. He works at the embassy.’
‘So does my stepmother!’
‘Seriously? So how come you look like you do?’ Heat rushed to my cheeks. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean –’
‘It’s fine. I haven’t had time to conform yet,’ I said, looking down at my boots to hide my hot face.
Out of the corner of my eye, I checked out his clothes. He was wearing a pair of spotless black jeans and a pair of Converse trainers that looked barely broken in.
‘Thabo, Summer said that you were the person to talk to about getting clothes and stuff, you know, from before the War?’
‘Ah.’ He gave me that lopsided grin again.
‘So where do you get the stuff from?’
He tapped the side of his nose. ‘My little secret.’
‘Oh, come on, who am I going to tell?’
He shrugged. ‘It’s not that hectic a secret anyway.’
‘So? Go on, then.’
‘The black market, of course. Out in New Arrivals.’
‘Where’s that?’
‘You don’t know New Arrivals? On
the other side of the enclave? Back behind the factories? Sheesh, it’s not as if you could miss it . . . You really are from the Agriculturals, aren’t you?’ I bristled at this, but did my best to hide it. ‘It’s where they made the first settlement. Most of the workers live there.’
‘Right. But won’t you get into trouble selling the stuff?’
He shrugged. ‘The Resurrectionists turn a blind eye to it, Lele. After all, where do you think they get their fancy clothes?’
He leaned towards me suddenly, and for a second I thought he was about to kiss me. My heart leapt into my throat and I found myself blushing again. But he was reaching across me to grab my bag.
‘Hey! What are you . . .?’
He rummaged in it and pulled out my sketchbook.
‘No ways!’ I said, trying to snatch it out his hand.
‘Let me see, come on, it’s only fair,’ he said, holding it above his head, out of my reach. ‘I told you about my sideline.’
‘Okay,’ I said, pretending to be annoyed. I watched his face as he flicked through the drawings, pausing to snort at one of the Rotters attacking Summer and Nyameka.
‘Wow, Lele, these are amazing! Really! That’s what you want to be? An artist?’
I shrugged. ‘Not many trade credits in art.’
He pulled a pamphlet out of his pocket and smoothed out its wrinkles. It showed the same terrible drawing of the child with the huge head, staring up at the sun. ‘I don’t know. You seen this? Looks like it was drawn by a three-year-old.’ He scrumpled it up and lobbed it up into the dumpster. ‘You could do way better than that.’
‘And you? What do you want to be?’ I asked. ‘You going to work at the embassy?’
‘No ways! I have my own plans.’
‘Well? What are they?’
He looked at me sideways. ‘Can I trust you?’
I nodded.
‘I want to join the Mall Rats.’ He sat back to check out my reaction.
‘The what rats?’
I waited for him to make fun of me again, but he just shrugged. ‘Most people think they’re just some kind of rumour.’
‘So what are they?’
‘They’re amazing. They, like, go outside the enclave, scavenging for stuff from before the War. Can you imagine? I mean, Lele, they go out into the old city!’