by Haden, Ross;
Before Sam could say anything he saw Frank getting out of the car with two of his goons behind him. They were both wearing balaclavas. It was time.
“Zinhle, please I need you to get out because if Mohammed finds you here he will not be happy,” said Sam trying to convince Zinhle to leave the shop quickly, but Bra Frank had already pulled the door open.
“Sam, relax. I’m done, here is the money.” Zinhle had already grabbed a loaf of bread and some rice off the shelf and put a note down on the counter. And then she screamed when she saw Frank’s gun. Mohammed rushed out of his office to see what was happening.
“Get the money!” Frank shouted at Sam. “Don’t just stand there.”
Frank was waving his gun. Sam went into Mohammed’s office and took the money from his desk. He had been busy counting it out.
Frank grabbed the bag with the money. Sam watched him walk towards the door. It would all be over within seconds. But then Bra Frank did the unthinkable. He grabbed Zinhle by the arm.
“You’re coming with me,” he said, yanking her back through the door and outside.
Sam yelled and ran towards them but Frank was too quick. They shoved Zinhle into the back of the car. All Sam could do was watch as Frank sped away.
Discussion questions
•Sam’s aims were good, but he was led to do unwise things. What were the pressures on him that made him make these bad choices? Do you know other people who have also made bad choices because of their difficult circumstances?
•What do you think is going to happen next?
About the author
Phoebe Sibomana is a developing young writer who started writing for FunDza as a FunDza Fan and has now managed to write stories as a commissioned writer for FunDza. Phoebe holds an Honours Degree in Development Studies and joined FunDza in 2012 as part of her intership.
Being a mentee …
I enjoyed having the opportunity of working with two great authors (Rosamund Haden and Joanne Hichens). I learned so much from both of them because their styles of writing are different so I got exposed to both, which helped me formulate my story. Joanne is mainly a crime thriller writer and Ros writes anything from romance to human drama, hence my story had a bit of both. It was very useful to have both of their input and it helped me to learn more and expand my own ideas. I had never written a crime thriller before so having someone like Joanne in my corner was really great, and having worked with Ros made it easy because I already knew her style of writing and could get advice from her at anytime if I strayed away from the main ideas of the story.
10
PAYBACK
Joanne Hichens
Sam ran from the supermarket, and chased after the car, but it was no use. Zinhle was gone. The simple ‘in-and-out’ robbery had turned into Sam’s worst nightmare come true.
“What the hell happened there, Sam?!” Mohammed screamed. “All my takings! Do you know anything about this? And those thugs threatened us with a gun. We could have been killed!”
“They took Zinhle, that’s all I know.” Sam felt desperate. He wanted to tear his hair out with fury and frustration. Why had Bra Frank taken Zinhle? Was the money not enough? Sam had put himself on the line. He’d become little more than a criminal himself to get the money to repay Bra Frank, and the whole plan had backfired.
“We have to call the police,” said Mohammed, starting to walk back into the shop.
At that very moment Sam felt and heard his cellphone go off in his pocket. It was Zinhle’s favourite song, ‘their song’ he called it; Kings of Leon’s ‘Manhattan’. The song she had been listening to that afternoon in the supermarket. The afternoon she had let him walk her home. Hearing it now made him feel even more desperate. He had to get her back! He read the SMS. It was her phone, but the deadly message could only be from Bra Frank.
if u eva wnt to c her ALIVE agen then
do as we say nd NO police
Sam ran after Mohammed. “Please, no police. Not yet!”
“I want my money back, Sam, and I have a good idea who the thugs are.”
“Please, Mohammed, look at this.” He showed him the SMS. “He has sent it from Zinhle’s phone. Give me a few days.”
“That’s even more reason to go to the police! Tell me, Sam, how are you mixed up in all this?”
“I’ll explain everything in twenty-four hours. I promise, that’s it. Then we go to the police together.” He could not tell Mohammed the truth. Not yet. But he swore, in that moment, to pay back every cent.
“One thing’s for sure, it’s time for me to get a gun. Next time I’ll protect myself,” Mohammed muttered.
Sam was already out the door. Who could he go to? Mr Sotshononda at The Haven Children’s Home? That would be the same as going to the police. He dared not. He ran to Vulamasango High. He waited for the school to be dismissed, then looked for Thando and Nombu. He had to face facts. They were smart. He needed help.
“What’s up with you, Sam, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Something terrible has happened. Zinhle has been abducted.”
Thando exclaimed, “What are you talking about? Why would anyone take Zinhle?”
“It’s my fault. I’ve got myself mixed up with Bra Frank.”
“We warned her not to hang out with you,” said Nombu. “You’re bad news, Sam.”
The two of them bombarded him with questions and accusations: “Why has this happened to her? Where is she? What are you going to do about it? What’s going on, Sam? How can we trust you, Sam? How do we know you’re not just trying to get money from us?”
“She was taken right from under my eyes, at the supermarket, during a robbery. He’s warned us not to call the police. If I tell the police, Bra Frank says he’ll do something to her. Rape her or kill her.”
He did not want to tell them it was his fault, that he’d made a plan to let Bra Frank into the shop at just the right time to easily rob Mohammed. But he knew he had to be truthful. He sat down and said, “Please listen. Don’t judge. I am sorry for what I’ve done.” He told them the story. “Now I want Zinhle to be safe. I have to find her.”
“And soon,” said Nombu.
“Ja, he’s done this before,” said Thando. “Do you remember? That girl called Nikiwe? She just disappeared. Even the police are scared of him. No one goes near him.”
“You know I care about her like I’ve never cared about any other girl,” said Sam. “She’s my true love and now this happens. I don’t want to put her in any more danger. I want to give Frank the money, get her back, and then we can maybe talk about going to the police.”
“We can’t let him get away with terrorising our community any more. Frank has to be stopped,” said Nombu.
“Will you help me?”
“Whatever it takes, Sam, we’ll help you get her back. She’s our friend too,” said both girls at once.
His cellphone started ringing. He pulled it from his pocket, put it on speaker.
Zinhle’s tortured voice cried: “Help me! Do what he says, Sam, or he’ll kill me!”
Then he heard Bra Frank’s chilling demand: “Get R5000 to me in three days or she is mine to do with what I want …”
~•~
“That’s enough noise!” Bra Frank yelled. “At least he knows you’re alive, and that we mean business.”
Zinhle wanted to scream again. Her heart was beating too fast and her hands were sweating. She had everything to live for, had to try every means to keep safe, so she forced herself to speak quietly: “Please, let me go. Don’t hurt me.”
“If your boyfriend comes through, you’ll be back at school in no time,” he laughed.
It was the way he laughed – a cruel, evil sound – that made her realise she wasn’t safe. Zinhle couldn’t help thinking how disappointed her mother and father would be if something happe
ned to her. They’d saved every cent they could to put her in a good school and she was going to go on to university. She wanted to be a leader. She was going to do politics and work to give people a better life. Now maybe she’d never get there. Her life flashed before her eyes as Bra Frank tied her wrists tight behind her back.
“You better be quiet, meisie, or we’ll chop your fingers off one by one and send them to that no-good, loser boyfriend of yours till he gets us the money we want,” Frank teased her. He ran his fingers down her cheek. She shivered: he terrified her. “Ja, be good, or we’ll send you back to your boyfriend a little worse for wear.”
~•~
It was hours later. She decided she had to keep up her strength. No way would she let these thugs get the better of her. Come on, Zinhle, she thought, giving herself a ‘pep talk’. You are a smart girl. Think, Zinhle, think!
She heard the door open and a voice asked, “Are you all right?”
“As if you care!” It wasn’t Bra Frank; it must be the other one.
“I don’t like what Frank is doing.”
“Then why don’t you let me go?” she whispered. “I’ll make sure you get a reward. Please.”
“I wish it was that easy, Sisi.”
“Then bring me some food. I’m hungry. What’s your name, by the way?”
“I’m Sipho, Sisi. Sure, I’ll bring you some food.”
“Hey, don’t I know you? The more you talk, the more I recognise your voice. You were a prefect at the school. What happened to you? How did you end up with Bra Frank? How did you get that scar on your cheek?”
“Life is what happened. Don’t ask stupid questions.” He turned, left the room and slammed the door. She wondered if she’d made him angry. I’d better be careful, she thought.
He came back soon with bread and slap chips, and her stomach rumbled. “Shoo. I’m really hungry.”
“If you promise not to do anything stupid I’ll untie you so you can eat.”
“I promise, and please, Sipho, will you join me?”
She hadn’t realised how starving she was. She ate the bread and chips fast. It surprised her that even at a time like this she felt hunger. It was because she also felt hope. She knew she had to get out of there. And Sipho was her ticket out.
“I remember how your tie was always skew. You were so cool. All the girls liked you. You were going places. Didn’t you get voted ‘most popular’? Who could forget a guy like you? You did well at maths and English.”
“I told you not to ask stupid questions,” he said.
But she could tell he wanted to talk because he didn’t leave the room. “What happened, Sipho?”
“I needed money for university. I borrowed from Frank. And when you can’t pay Frank back, then you join Frank. That’s how the gang works.”
They chatted and shared the rest of the chips and bread as if they’d been friends for years. “You have a pretty dress on. You don’t want to get it greasy.”
“Sipho, thanks. And thanks for being honest. Now I have to go to the toilet.”
“Come, I’ll take you.”
The window looked so small but it was her only chance. It was easy to pull the bars from the rotting frame. So far, so good. She climbed on the toilet, pulled herself up, pushed her head through and then her shoulders. A tight squeeze, but she was so nearly out. The taste of freedom made her heart beat. They thought they had her, but she’d be out in a second, and then she’d run so fast to the police. No way she’d let them get away with this!
Suddenly she heard a yell, “Hey, what are you doing?” She felt the pull at her leg. Before she could even scream she was being yanked back in.
“Sjoe, girl, what do you think you’re doing!?” said Sipho. She had never seen such rage. Sipho’s face was twisted and ugly. “You try to escape again, you dead!”
The last thing she felt was a punch in her stomach. A brutal punch. She couldn’t breathe, or even cry. Zinhle was dragged back to the small, dark room and tied up again.
~•~
Sam felt as if the butterflies from the beautiful poster he had bought for Sinethemba were flying around in his stomach – he was so scared. He clutched his cellphone, waiting for the next call, and, sure enough within a minute it started ringing. Would this be the call to say that Zinhle … ? He couldn’t even finish his own thought.
“So, we’re waiting. You have the money? You’d better have the money.” Frank’s voice was harsh. He meant business.
“I’m getting it together,” said Sam.
“You’d better get it together soon. Or you know what will happen.”
Sam heard the disconnect tone, and his cell started ringing again immediately.
“Sam!”
“Sisi! I’m so glad it’s you, Sinethemba. Just stay inside, OK? I’ve got myself involved in some bad business and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Too late for that, Bhuti. When Uncle was out Mam’Gqwashu came here, with two men. They took me, Sam. I’m back at Mam’Gqwashu’s but she’s locked me in. Noni got a phone for me … but I haven’t got much …”
Then they were cut off.
Sam could not believe what he was hearing. Not only was Zinhle in the clutches of Frank, but Sinethemba was back with that evil woman. Now both the people who meant the most to him in the whole world were in danger. Bra Frank and Mam’Gqwashu were the same type, cut from the same cloth. All they cared about was money, power and cruelty.
He got a taxi and went straight to Mam’Gqwashu’s. “Mam’Gqwashu!” he yelled outside her door. “I want my sister, and I want her now!”
He saw the front door open a crack. Heard it open. Someone pulling back locks and a chain. And then it opened fully and there she was, fat and sweaty Mam’Gqwashu, pointing a finger at him. “She’s mine. You had no right to take her. Now, you cheeky boy, get off my property! You can have her if you pay for her. Another few thousand should do it.”
With that her bodyguard, who also ‘supervised’ the orphans’ work, came after Sam. The man hit him in the face and Sam felt the blood flow from his nose. Then he kicked Sam as he lay on the ground. “Now get up and get out! And if you ever cross onto Mam’Gqwashu’s property again, it’ll be the end of you and your sister.”
Sam mopped up the blood with his sleeve. He ran down the street. How on earth would he work it out? He needed money for Frank and Mam’Gqwashu.
He thought of Zinhle. He wanted to kiss her, put his arms around her. He thought of his sister, how he had promised his mother to look after her. And now his whole world felt as if it was going to pieces and there was no way he could put it back together again.
Again his cellphone rang.
“Sam.” Frank sounded hard; as if he meant business, “My good friend Mam’Gqwashu called. She said you’re making a nuisance of yourself. You’re a no-good loser, Sam. Everything has a price. And I’m still waiting for the money for your pretty Zinhle. So far you’ve come up with nothing. Not a cent. I’m disappointed. And now we have your sister too. I thought they meant more to you.”
“They do. Please, I’m getting the money.”
“If you don’t,” he said and paused for dramatic effect, “I’m going to have such a good time with your girlfriend. I can see why you like her so much …”
“Please,” begged Sam. “I’ll do anything, just don’t hurt her.”
“Ja, tell you what, Sam, let’s make a deal. You have to make good. You can come work for me and make it up to me. Let’s see how useful you are.”
“Never, Frank. I’ll get you the money, but join you? Never.”
“What a pity. Oh, and as far as your lovely Zinhle goes, I’ve decided to keep her.”
Sam felt his world spinning around him and he fell to his knees. His eyes stung and he tried not to cry. What would Mr Sotshononda say if he saw him like this, kneeling o
n the ground with tears of frustration running down his face? He missed his mother, and thought about what she always used to say when faced with a challenge: “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”
Repeating these words under his breath, Sam got off the floor. Now all he felt was anger. Sam clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. If Frank wanted a fight, that was exactly what he was going to get.
~•~
Frank pressed ‘end call’. “That’ll give you something to think about, Sam!” He lit up another cigarette and took a deep drag. How dare Sam say no to working for him? Frank could not remember when last someone turned down the chance to be one of his boys … with all the money, the cars, the girls that he provided.
But Sam would come around to the idea. He’d have to … or else. He heard a rap on the door, opened it to Mam’Gqwashu with a smile and a wink. “Good to see you, Mama. You say you’ve brought me fresh meat?”
Mam’Gqwashu’s grin spread across her face, the light twinkled on her gold tooth. She pushed a pretty young thing into the room. The girl looked scared, and she did not look up from the floor.
“This is Sinethemba,” Mam’Gqwashu said, poking the girl in the back with a crooked finger. “You might know her brother. I believe you’ve had words? Well, this one is so pretty I’ve brought her to you for the club, Frank. It’s time to make the girls work for us, after all we’ve done for them.”
Frank walked around Sinethemba, looked her up and down, said: “Not bad.” He grabbed her wrist and chuckled. “She’s a bit skinny, but we can fatten her up in no time.”
Frank had already decided that Zinhle would be going to the club tonight. No way he was going to wait for Sam to pay him the money. Zinhle would bring in a packet. She was so gorgeous – her smooth, clear skin, full lips and shapely body … The guys would be lining up for her. But Frank was going to break her in first. And now he had more fresh meat!
“Two sweet girls. But why bring this one to me, Ma? Have I been a good boy?” Frank chuckled and Sinethemba looked up with fear and disgust at the gangster, who was leering at her.