by Haden, Ross;
The room was dark. Very dark.
“We can’t switch on the light,” Peter said. “Close one eye for a few seconds.”
“Whaaat? We don’t have time for this,” I hissed (again).
“Just do it.”
Amazing. Suddenly I could make out shapes. A large table in one corner. And in another, two huddled shapes, writhing frantically. Peter and I crept towards the source of the smell. Two young girls, thin as shadows.
“Shh,” I soothed, trying to sound reassuring even though my heart was racing faster than a humming bird’s. “Just keep very quiet.” I fumbled to untie one gag, trying not to retch at the smell of very bad breath. The gag was slimy in my hands as I eased it away gently.
Peter was busy untying the other. “We’re going to get you out of here.” His voice was deep and very calm.
“Oh, I don’t think you are,” said a quiet voice from the doorway.
Councillor Selvin Cupido. Home early from the ratepayers’ meeting – or did he get suspicious? He’s reaching into his pocket. And – you guessed it – pulling out a small, but very ugly little pistol.
~•~
They say your life flashes by your eyes when you know you’re going to die. Well, I don’t know about that. What I do know is that your brain slows to a standstill for a fraction of a second and then it leaps into action. In my case very loud, very manic, totally unplanned action.
“Selvin!” I yelled at the top of my voice. “Selvin Cupido!” I waved my hands in the dark.
His head jerked in my direction and in that flash of a moment Peter Cho exploded into action. Kapow! A straight-legged kick and the gun flew out of Selvin’s hand and clattered onto the floor.
Kaboom! A kick to the leg and Selvin sank to his knees.
Kersquish! A jab to the flab of his belly and Selvin fell back, winded. He scrabbled around on the floor for his gun.
“Ow!” One of his prisoners bit his ankle. “Ow! Ow!” The second one wriggled forward and sank her teeth into his calf.
Kerswoosh! I threw Peter Cho’s sweat shirt over Selvin’s head. He lay still.
Four angry teenagers versus one chubby, balding, almost-forty-year-old man. He didn’t stand a chance. Peter picked up the pistol and trained it at his head.
“Keep him there, Peter,” I whispered. And then I realised: no need for silence any more. I flipped on the switch. Light glared into the room. Peter and I looked at each other, horrified. Councillor Selvin Cupido wasn’t going to be winning any health and safety awards any time soon. Not to mention that the large stain spreading around his crotch was adding to the strong smell of pee.
“Monster,” I said quietly. “Sadistic pig.” I wanted to kick him, pound his head to a pulp. Make him beg for mercy the way Melissa must have done all those years before. Instead I turned on my heel, walked down the passage and called the police.
~•~
There was so much DNA evidence in the house that Selvin couldn’t worm his way out of a conviction. He crumbled. Told the police everything.
Get this. Selvin Cupido has been perving over me for the last year. Because I look so much Melissa, apparently. She was his first kill. And I was the one who was going to bring things full circle. He had to get me before he could start on his next cycle. Creepy? That doesn’t begin to describe it. No wonder Melissa came back. She had to warn me. Reach out from the grave and make us listen to her. All I can say is, I’m glad they have solid evidence and a solid confession. They want me to testify and I’ll be there, telling my story loud and strong. I want that man behind bars for a long, long time.
Mr Cupido knew what his son was doing. Tried to stop him, but he couldn’t. And nor would he hand him over to the police. Instead he shared my family’s misery. Looked on in horror when his son came back from yet another trip to the vacant plot on the road where Peter met Melissa. The plot belonged to old man Cupido, and he knew how it was being used. For deep graves, dug in the dead of night. Melissa’s body was there, and so many others.
Now this bit’s beyond creepy: Mr Cupido also used the plot to plant vegetables. Tomatoes, butternut, potatoes … I know, you’re thinking baskets of fresh veggies, right? I don’t want to go there. Really. Let’s just say I’m into protein and carbs at the moment. Anyway that gave them an excuse to fence the plot off – to keep people from stealing their crops. Looks like Selvin planted young girls as well as leeks and lettuce. There were nine bodies in total. Some of them were too decomposed to identify, but Melissa’s body was wrapped like a mummy. Selvin was a sick bastard.
So the father was guilty, just as guilty as the son. Oupie and Ouma are having a hard time coming to terms with that.
They’re angry with me too. “You could have got yourself killed,” Oupie keeps saying. But then his face cracks in a smile and he pulls me close for a hug. “My brave girl.”
Peter Cho and I often sit on Melissa’s bench. But we don’t spend too much time going over the details of what happened that night. We’re too busy talking, getting to know each other properly, like adding a purple belt in ju-jitsu to the list of things I’ve discovered about my boyfriend. He knows all about Mom and how I haven’t seen her since I was tiny. I’m slowly getting him used to the idea that we’ll be studying together at UCT next year. Drama for me. Something to do with physics and outer space for him.
I lean my head on his shoulder and look up at the stars, clear in the cold winter sky. There’s one that shines brighter than all the rest. Some people call it Sirius. We call it Melissa’s Star.
Discussion questions
•Would you like this kind of adventure? Why or why not?
•Do you think Peter and Charlene’s relationship is likely to last? Why do you think so?
About the author
Maire Fisher lives and works in Fish Hoek. She is an editor and writer and runs creative writing workshops for children and adults. Maire has been an avid reader all her life. She takes a book with her wherever she goes; when she sailed around the world many years ago, the most important thing about getting to land for her wasn’t stocking up with fresh fruit and veggies, it was finding a boat with good books to swap!
Being a mentor …
I can’t imagine a world without good stories to read. So when FunDza asked me to be part of this project I was delighted to get the chance to work with a young writer. From meeting Jean-Paul, to sitting and working out a story (Who knew we’d come up with a ghost story? But once Jean-Paul said, “I like stories that happen in the dark,” there it was!), to sending versions of our stories back and forth to each other, to getting the final word that our story was great and ready to go up on the site – working collaboratively with a talented young writer has been a brilliant experience from beginning to end. I loved meeting a dedicated writer at the beginning of his writing career, knowing that someday I’d be able to say that I worked with him!
3
THE RED NECKLACE
Mzimkhulu Mackenzie
It was the beginning of January, and Sipho and Karabo were on lunch break. They both worked in Liesbeek Mall – Karabo was a bank teller, and Sipho had just been promoted to assistant manager of the pet store.
“Babes, I brought you some food for lunch,” Karabo said, holding out a lunchbox with chicken and pap inside. “Let’s go to the park and sit under the trees.”
“Thanks, my angel.” Sipho took her hand. Karabo is such a blessing, he thought as they walked down the busy passage towards the main entrance of the mall. She reminds me of my mom – always thinking about other people.
As they passed by Starlight Diamonds jewellery store, Karabo stopped. “Wow. That is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” she said, looking at the window display. A red necklace shaped like flowers stood in an open velvet-lined box.
“It really is beautiful, babes,” Sipho said. “You could wear it with the earrings I got you fo
r Christmas.”
“OMG. But it’s kind of expensive, hey?”
Sipho put his arm around her waist. “You should try it on.”
“But I can never afford that, not on my salary. The bank doesn’t pay much.”
“Trying on is free. Come on, babes, I want to see how it looks on you.”
“What if it refuses to come off?” she laughed.
“Then I’ll buy it.”
Laughing, they went into the store.
A few moments later the necklace lay around her neck. A gold chain held a string of red beads that ended in three clusters of flowers. The crystals shone against her dark skin, with the smaller red jewel flowers resting just below her collarbone. The largest flower hung in her cleavage, and it glistened in the bright shop light.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, “Why are you staring at me? Andiyophulang’ phofu? Did I break it or something?”
“Nothing’s wrong. It’s like I’m seeing an angel from heaven standing right in front of me.”
She took the necklace off and the salesperson put it back in the display. As they went off to the park, Sipho wondered if he could buy it for her. It cost almost a month’s salary. And it was January. He was broke. But Karabo was so precious to him that she deserved nothing but the best. He would make a plan. One way or another he had to get it.
At four-thirty he was giving the baby parrots their last meal of the day in the pet shop. All seven fledglings were huddling together in the incubator. Sipho was feeding one with a big syringe, and they were all shouting and pushing at once.
Mr Mahomed, the shop owner, laughed as the greediest parrot squawked loudly for more food. “This parrot is just like you – he’s always hungry. I’ve been wanting to give you a bonus for all your hard work over the festive season. He’s yours.”
“Oh thanks, Mr Mahomed. I’ve always wanted a parrot of my own. I’m going to teach him to say, ‘Karabo is a lovely lady. ’ ”
Mr Mahomed laughed. “That’s a good idea. Parrots live sixty years, so he’ll keep Karabo sweet until you’re old and grey.”
Sipho finished the feeding and closed up the incubator. “Sir, can I clock out early today? I have some personal business I’d like to take care of.”
“Sure,” said Mr Mahomed. “Business is so quiet this time of the year.”
A few minutes later Sipho entered Starlight Diamonds for the second time that day. Should I buy the necklace? he thought. I’m still tangled up in my festive-season debts. But then he saw the necklace on the deep-blue velvet cloth, and he remembered how beautiful it looked on Karabo’s soft neck. He had to have it.
How the hell am I going to get the money? And then he had an idea. I can sell my parrot, Perry, he decided. It would break his heart, and Mr Mahomed would be upset, but Perry was the only thing he had to sell that might bring in enough to buy the necklace. And Karabo was worth it.
“Can I help you, sir?” the jewellery sales assistant asked.
He took a deep breath. “Can I purchase something on lay-by?”
~•~
It was Saturday morning and Karabo was babysitting her little brother, Lesego. She arrived as Sipho was unlocking the pet shop. He had taken on an extra weekend shift to help earn the money for her necklace. He was late for work, and was surprised to see Karabo holding her eight-year-old brother by the hand.
“Babes, I need a favour,” Karabo said. “I’ve got an appointment at the hair salon. He’s going to be a nuisance in the salon. Can you please keep an eye on him? I’ll be back by eleven.”
“Sure,” Sipho said. “Hey, champ. Howzit?” he said, boxing Lesego playfully on the chest.
“Thanks, love,” Karabo said, hugging him and whispering, “I love you.”
“Love you too, babes,” Sipho said, as she left the store. “Come on, Lesego. You can help me feed the baby parrots. And I’ll pay you to help me clean out the cages.”
An hour later the cages were swept, the animals fed, and Lesego was bored.
“Uncle Sipho, can I go play computer games at the shop next door?”
Sipho was busy unpacking boxes of birdseed. “Sure, I’ll take you now.”
Dominic, the manager of Gaming Factory, didn’t even look up from the magazine he was paging through as they entered the shop. Sipho settled Lesego down in front of a screen and gave him the money he had earned. “Don’t spend it all at once, and don’t get into trouble. If you need me I’m right next door.”
As he passed the counter he noticed that Dominic had stopped surfing the internet and was busy drooling over a porn magazine. “Hey – your eyes should be on the shop,” Sipho said. Dominic gave him the middle finger. Sipho paused. Should he be leaving the child in a place like this? But then he thought, no, he’ll be fine. I’m right next door.
The hours passed quickly, with a rush of customers. Sipho kept thinking about the red necklace. It would look so beautiful on Karabo’s long neck. He went to look at Perry. He took him out of the cage and stroked his feathers. Perry was growing nicely. He was almost ready to go. I wonder what Mr Mohamed will say when he finds out I’ve sold him? I hope he’s not too upset, he thought, admiring the beautiful parrot.
Sipho was just getting ready to make a cup of tea when he remembered Lesego. He had a moment of panic. “You idiot,” he said to himself. “You promised to keep an eye on him.” He hurried next door.
As he entered Gaming Factory, Karabo herself came storming out with Lesego. “Sipho, I thought, I asked you to watch Lesego.”
He’d never seen her so angry. “What’s happened, babe?”
“Some older kids wanted to take Lesego’s money, and he refused, so they hit him.”
“Sorry, babes, I was on my way over. I have been busy with customers. Is he OK?”
“Yes, he’s OK. It’s all thanks to Dom here. He intervened and sent the big boys away.”
Lesego frowned. “I could have beaten them – I’m a fighting machine,” he said and he showed them his biceps.
Dominic laughed. “You’re the man, Lesego. But those boys were bigger than you. They could have given you a black eye.”
Karabo smiled at him. “I’m so glad you were there, Dom. Thanks for saving my little brother.”
“Any time,” Dom said, putting his arm around her. “I’m always here. Drop him off any time you like. I’ll watch out for him.”
Sipho felt angry watching Karabo and Dom. If she only knew what he had been doing when he left Lesego there, how he hadn’t even looked up from the porn he was reading … she wouldn’t be thanking him.
As he returned to the pet shop Sipho felt really bad. He shouldn’t have forgotten the little boy there. And he didn’t like the way Dominic touched Karabo. Couldn’t she tell he was a slimy bastard who liked porn?
~•~
“What shall I buy Thabi for her house-warming present?”’ Karabo said one Friday about two weeks later. It was lunchtime, and Sipho and Karabo were lying on the grass at the park, enjoying another one of Karabo’s homemade lunches.
Sipho didn’t answer. In his head he was trying to work out how much he could save from his pay cheque to put towards the necklace. He imagined her joy when she opened the red velvet, heart-shaped box he had already bought for her. He had the box, now he just had to find a way to fill it.
“Hey,” she said, shaking his shoulder. “Are you paying attention? Or am I speaking to myself?”
“Sorry, what were you saying?”
“I hope you haven’t forgotten about Thabi’s party tonight?”
“No, babe.”
Their friend Thabi Malebeni had just moved into her own house quite near the mall. She’d inherited the house, a car and a lot of money. Now she was having a house-warming party for all her friends.
“We’re getting a lift with Dom. He’s got a car, did you know? He’ll take us
straight from work at half past five.”
Sipho didn’t want to think about being driven by the bastard who’d flirted with Karabo. He didn’t need him in his face. It was bad enough seeing him every day in the gaming shop next door. But at the same time, he wanted to see Thabi. She was a good friend of his and Karabo’s. And his friends Sim and Motso would be there – they were sharing her house with her.
“I think we should get her that set of serving dishes from Clicks. They’re about R135. Do you think you can put in half, and I’ll buy it after work?”
Sipho couldn’t look her in the eye. “Babes, I’m platsak. I’ve got nothing till pay day.”
He felt her stiffening. She sat up quickly. “Fine, then I’ll buy it with my money. I’ll have to go and draw it from the autobank.” She jumped up.
“Hey, what’s wrong? There’s still twenty minutes of lunch hour left.” He got up and chased after her as she stormed down the path towards the mall.
She was acting weird. Why was she getting angry all the time? Was she still angry about Lesego? Was she comparing him to Dominic all the time? If only she knew the truth about him.
She made straight for the Ladies’. “Hey, Karabo, can we talk about this?” he begged, as she reached the door of the toilets.
“There’s nothing to talk about. And you’re not allowed here. People will think you’re a pervert. Just go.”
Sipho saw the security guard approaching. He hurried off. I just wish I could tell her why I’ve got no money, he thought. Then she wouldn’t be upset with me.
It was almost closing time, and Sipho was cashing up. He just had time to feed the parrots and change before five-thirty. Suddenly his phone rang.
“I saw your internet advert on Gumtree for the Yellow Naped Amazon parrot. Is it still available?”
“Yes, it is available,” he said, trying not to let his voice show his excitement. “I’m at Liesbeek Mall. Would you like to come and see the bird?”
“I can be there by six-thirty.”
“Ma’am, is it possible that you can come tomorrow, in the morning, maybe?”