It Takes Two

by Haden, Ross;

  “That brother of hers has to learn a lesson. He stole her from me in the first place. I can’t allow the message to get out that I’m soft. Nor can you, Frank,” said Mam’Gqwashu. It sounded almost like a warning …

  “Well, well, well,” grinned Frank. “Now I recognise you, little sista. You are Sam’s sister.”

  “Yes, that’s right, you idiots – and he’s going to come get me in no time! Then you’ll be sorry you treated me like a piece of meat.” Sinethemba’s outburst surprised Mam’Gqwashu and Frank, who stepped towards Sinethemba threateningly. He raised his hand and Sinethemba cowered, waiting for the slap … but it didn’t come.

  “We can’t have any marks on you before tonight, my darling. Ma – seems like this one has a wild streak. Don’t worry … I’ll fix that and make her nice and obedient.” Then he threw Sinethemba into the same room as Zinhle. “Get acquainted, girls. Tonight we’ve got a treat for you. You ever been to a night club? Just wait till you see the bright lights – you’ll never want to go to school again.” He slammed the door shut.

  Frank offered Mam’Gqwashu tea. They sat together on the stoep, drinking and talking.

  “That brother of hers is causing trouble. I don’t want the police on my doorstep,” Mam’Gqwashu complained, waving her fat, crooked finger at Frank.

  “Be cool, Ma. Chill. I’ve got it all under control. Sam will not trouble you any more after my boys get to him. That’s a promise.” Mam’Gqwashu knew that Frank kept his promises, and she felt her tension fade.

  Frank rubbed his hands together and thought back to that fateful day, six months ago, when he had decided to lend this kid ten grand. Seems like that was the best decision of my life, he thought, with a chuckle: he had got back much more than that amount from the robbery, and had scored two lovely ladies for free. He sent Sam an SMS:

  Yr sisi is cute, nw I hve 2 of your grls …

  dat sweet meat is all mine

  Sam was pacing outside his school when he got the message. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead and he felt like he was going to be sick. I must act now, he thought, before it’s too late. Sam messaged Nombu and Thando, as well as Xolani. They met outside the school gates. Sam was so tired, but he had hope once again. Nombu and Thando were smart girls, and Xolani could help too – even though he’d screwed up. Sam knew this was his last chance to save the girls he loved.

  ~•~

  Sinethemba fell down in the dark room, crying out in pain as the rough concrete floor grazed the skin on her knees. She heard the door slam and lock behind her, and she heard Frank’s horrible laugh echoing through the wall. She wanted to scream but knew it would be no use. Her knees were scraped. Her palms were bleeding. But she could not focus on the physical pain – she had to think; figure out a way to escape. Sinethemba took a few deep breaths and tried to remember what her teacher had taught her in LO about dealing with a crisis situation.

  “Hey, are you all right?”

  Sinethemba nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the voice, soft and sweet like an angel’s.

  “Don’t worry – it’s me, Zinhle, from school. They got me too, Sinethemba.” Zinhle’s voice broke and it sounded like she was going to cry.

  “Oh, Zinhle,” Sinethemba sobbed, unable to hold back tears at the sound of a kind voice. She crawled on the floor to Zinhle and hugged her. “D’you know what they’re going to do to us? Turn us into, I can hardly even say it: prostitutes, whores. We’ve got to get out of here. Sam is trying to find you … I spoke to him … but then …” She started to cry even harder.

  “He loves you so much,” Zinhle said, putting her arms around Sinethemba. “He will find us. I know it. How did Frank find you?”

  “He was working with Mam’Gqwashu. They are in this thing together. Now I know where the girls went who disappeared from Mam’Gqwashu when I was living there. She would never tell us. One day they were there, the next day they were gone. It was always the older ones. There were terrible rumours of where they went … and now I know it’s true. Oh, Zinhle. It’s going to happen to us too.”

  “No, Sinethemba. I won’t let it happen. Now it’s up to us, girl. No way will I let them sell us like slaves.”

  Suddenly they heard the door being unlocked. The girls gripped each other in fear – was it Frank, coming to show them what tonight would be like? They breathed a sigh of relief as Sipho switched on the light and came through the door, carrying plates of hot chips with salt.

  Zinhle knew somehow that Sipho was still her only hope – she remembered how he used to be at school: the Golden Boy, going places. If she could just make him see her as a human being, then maybe he’d switch sides and help them. She had to try.

  “D’you have a sister?” she asked, as Sipho put the steaming plates down in front of them and Sinethemba started to devour the food.

  He hesitated, and there was a long pause. But then he said softly, “Yes, I’ve got two. They’re younger than me.”

  “How would you feel if something like this happened to them?”

  “Of course I wouldn’t like it. I know it’s wrong, Zinhle. But you don’t understand. Frank owns me.” Sipho sounded panicked and frustrated, and Zinhle noticed that his face had the lines of a much older man.

  “How can anyone own another person? Isn’t it time you stood up for yourself?”

  “When you’re in a gang, you don’t leave. The only way to leave is to die. Now eat, before it gets cold.”

  Zinhle saw that her plan was not working. Sipho was a good guy, but Frank had too much control over him. She knew she had to try a different tactic.

  Bit by bit Zinhle pulled her dress down until it just covered her bra. Then she edged over and put her arms around Sipho and said, “Baby, I have been attracted to you since school days. Come, let’s have a little fun.” Surprised at her unexpected move, and overcome by lust Sipho turned towards her. Zinhle motioned frantically with her eyes for Sinethemba to run. Sinethemba tried to sneak past him, but Sipho heard her.

  He pushed Zinhle to the ground, kicked her, and dragged Sinethemba back into the room, writhing and screaming. “You don’t learn, do you, Zinhle? You’re going nowhere.”

  “What the hell is going on here?” said Frank, storming in to the room.

  “Frank,” said Sipho, panting, “everything is under control. They not gonna pull any crazy stunts. I’m watching them.”

  “It’s time to teach them a lesson. One they’ll never forget,” Frank said, his voice shaking with anger. He started to unstrap his thick leather belt, the metal studs gleaming.

  “Hey, Frank,” said Sipho impatiently. “Not now, hey. We have to collect the booze for the club remember?”

  Frank narrowed his eyes and glared at Sipho suspiciously. He walked out of the door and muttered under his breath: “Just you wait till I get back.”

  Frank was gone. Sipho sighed deeply, relieved, and Zinhle could see that his hands were shaking in fear. He fished in his trouser pocket then slipped a cellphone into the pocket of her dress.

  “Take this and use it to get help. If he finds out he’ll kill me, so keep your mouth shut no matter what, OK?”

  “You doing this for us?”

  “Yes, I don’t want you to get hurt. I need a way out of the gang life, so I’m doing it for myself too. The cell is prepaid. It can’t be traced to me. Good luck.”

  Sipho left the room and Zinhle stared at the cellphone in wonder. She heard the muffled voices of Frank, Mam’Gqwashu and Sipho plotting on the stoep and wondered whether she’d ever see Sipho again …

  ~•~

  Sam was at a loss. Thando, Nombu and Xolani had tried their best, but no one had come up with a plan to save Zinhle and Sinethemba from Bra Frank and his boys. They knew that going to the police wouldn’t help, and they had no money or contacts. Xolani had suggested a few things, but all could get them into trouble, and
Sam was not willing to do anything illegal – look where it had got them so far. As the minutes ticked by, the group was getting more and more frustrated.

  Suddenly his phone beeped. An SMS from an unknown number … He read the message and his eyes grew large. His jaw clenched and he shouted, “Shit!” making the girls and Xolani jump.

  “Hey, Sam, what’s the matter? Who’s the message from?” Nombu asked urgently.

  “It’s Zinhle,” he said, and the girls gasped in both joy and surprise. “There’s more – you know Bra Frank has my sister too. Mam’Gqwashu took her to Frank. Now that evil woman is still there, planning with him how they’re going to split the money.”

  “What money, Sam? What are you talking about?” asked Thando. Sam looked as if he was going to faint.

  “I know,” said Xolani. “The money is from prostitution. Frank is going to take Zinhle and Sine to the club tonight – am I right?” Sam just nodded his head whilst Nombu started to cry.

  “What are we going to do, Sam? We have to save them. We have to.”

  “OK, guys, this is what we have so far: Zinhle and Sine are locked in a room in Bra Frank’s house. Frank, Mam’Gqwashu and one of Frank’s boys (he’s a good guy, really) are sitting outside, on the stoep. What’s our plan of action?”

  Xolani looked up at Sam, and a smile spread slowly across his face. “You know what, Sam. I think I have an idea …”

  ~•~

  Zinhle and Sinethemba saw what time it was on the cellphone’s display: 20:15. Zinhle knew that Frank’s club opened every night at 21:30 – she had heard her mother and the other aunties skinnering about some of the girls who worked there. How short their dresses were, how they took drugs to numb the pain of …

  The door burst open and Frank stumbled into the room, his large body swaying against the light from outside. The girls could smell the alcohol on his breath: Black Label, his beer of choice. His eyes were red and he was sweating. Zinhle saw the outline of something in his hand and gasped. It was a gun. Frank came towards her and she shrank back. It was no use – she felt the rough wall against her back and knew that she was trapped. Sinethemba was frozen in the corner, too scared to move. Breathing heavily, Frank brought the gun up to Zinhle’s face and stroked it down her cheek. One tear rolled out of her eye, hitting the cold, dark metal of the barrel.

  “There, there, don’t cry,” Bra Frank whispered, and a blanket of beer-breath suffocated Zinhle. “You’re my girl now. Don’t worry, you’ll enjoy it. I’ll be gentle.” Frank brought his hand up to her dress and slipped the strap off her shoulder. As he was about to grab her breast, Zinhle heard a terrifying shriek. Sinethemba launched herself onto Bra Frank and started attacking him with her bare hands, scratching wildly.

  “No, Sine! The gun!” Zinhle screamed, but it was too late. A shot was fired.

  The noise from the gun was deafening, and both girls recoiled in shock, hiding their faces in their arms. The bullet hit the wall, but as Frank got up to grab Zinhle, Sipho came running through the door. “Sipho,” Frank gasped. “Help me put these bitches in their place!”

  Sipho pulled out his own gun, and moved threateningly – towards Frank.

  “Not today, Bra Frank. I’ve had enough of this shit. Let them go or …” Before he could even finish his sentence Frank fired at him, hitting him in the shoulder.

  Sipho dropped to the ground and the girls cried out. Frank motioned with his gun in the air and shouted like a crazy person: “Who’s next, huh? Wanna cause more trouble with me, you whores?”

  Neither Zinhle nor Sinethemba said a word. Their eyes were fixed on Sipho, shaking on the ground, the deep red of his blood seeping through his shirt.

  ~•~

  Xolani knelt down and drew a sketch in the sand. “We have no time to lose, OK?” Sam and the girls nodded eagerly, listening closely to Xolani’s every word. “What we’ve been doing wrong all along,” he said, looking at Sam, “is trying to do this all by ourselves. And why? We know a lot, but we’re just kids. There’s no way we can take on Bra Frank and his boys alone.”

  Sam understood what Xolani was saying, but was getting a headache from all this backwards and forwards talk. “But who can we turn to, Xolani? Who will help us?” Suddenly, Sam realised that there was someone. He felt so stupid – why had he not asked this man, who was like his father, for help before?

  “I’ve got it!” Sam shouted. Mr Sotshononda was their answer. He was kind, clever, an upstanding member of the community, and had always been there for Sam. He would know what to do. “Quickly!” he shouted to his friends. “We need to take a taxi to The Haven Children’s Home right away!”

  ~•~

  Mr Sotshononda opened the door in his dressing gown, holding a steaming cup of black coffee, clearly tired from a busy day at the Home. Sam hugged him without saying a word, and Mr Sotshononda wrapped his arms around him.

  Then Sam told him that they needed his help desperately. That it was a matter of life and death. That they couldn’t call the police. He told him about Bra Frank and the SMSes.

  “You can explain as we drive,” said Mr Sotshononda as he opened the doors to his car and they got in.

  In the car Sam told him the whole story. He told him about his sister and how she lived with him now. He started with how responsible he felt for Sinethemba after their father had died – how he knew it was up to him to give her a good life, and ended with the details of how Zinhle had been kidnapped by Bra Frank, and Sinethemba given to him by Mam’Gqwashu.

  Mr Sotshononda was a quick thinker and he had a plan. He was going to keep Frank and his boys and Mam’Gqwashu busy on the stoep whilst Sam, Xolani and Nombu went round and in through the back door to get Zinhle and Sinethemba, and Thando kept watch.

  “But, Mr Sotshononda,” asked Xolani, “how do you know where Bra Frank’s house is? How do you know that it has a back door? What if it doesn’t?”

  Mr Sotshononda turned to look at each one of his passengers, and said quietly as they pulled up near Bra Frank’s place: “I know you see me now as a perfect man, as a good example. I wasn’t always like this. I too had to look after my siblings from a young age, and I got involved with Frank’s gang when it was just starting up. Luckily I managed to get out of it early on and rebuild my life. That is why I am helping you: I understand what it feels like to make a mistake that can change your lives, and the lives of people you love.”

  For a moment there was complete silence as Sam and his companions tried to process what they had just heard. Suddenly a gunshot rang out from inside the house. Sam turned cold – were they too late? Was Zinhle or Sinethemba already hurt, or even dead?

  “We must go along with the plan,” commanded Mr Sotshononda. “Go around the back now – I’m going to ring the bell and pretend I didn’t hear anything.”

  A few minutes later Mr Sotshononda was sitting on the stoep with Frank and Mam’Gqwashu. Although he despised them both, they feared his influence over the community and treated him with great respect. Get on the wrong side of a man like Mr Sotshononda? Not even Bra Frank wanted to risk it. Drunk as he was, he sat politely with the unexpected guest.

  Mam’Gqwashu went inside to make more tea, when suddenly the sound of police sirens deafened them and two patrol cars skidded to a halt outside the house. Bra Frank started to run, but it was too late. Three police officers with weapons jumped out of one of the vehicles and Bra Frank stopped in his tracks. A policewoman shouted, “Stop! We were alerted to a shot being fired here recently. Can you tell us anything about that?”

  Just as Bra Frank opened his mouth to come up with an excuse, Sam and Xolani came round the back of the house, Sipho limping between them, his arm soaked in blood. Nombu and Thando were each holding Zinhle’s and Sinethemba’s hands. Everyone turned, distracted by this sight, and Bra Frank took his opportunity. He lurched to Mr Sotshononda, pulling out his gun and putting it to the o
ther man’s head.

  “Let me go,” he said in a cold, hard voice. “Or I will blow this man’s brains out.”

  The policewoman stood her ground. “Put the gun down, or I’ll have to shoot,” she instructed.

  Bra Frank realised he was cornered and shoved Mr Sotshononda to the ground with a grunt of frustration. Before anyone could blink, he was in handcuffs and being pushed into the police van.

  ~•~

  One month later, and Sam’s life had turned around. A reward was paid to Mr Sotshononda and the kids by the police, for their help in the arrest of Bra Frank, the notorious gangster. They had decided to let Sam keep all the money, as he needed it most. Sam paid back Mr Mohammed, and was working in his shop every weekend for no pay, working off ‘community service’.

  Sipho had recovered from his injury and Zinhle had persuaded him to go back to college. Sam and Sinethemba were doing well at school, and Mr Sotshononda – Uncle, as they now called him – visited them every week. Mam’Gqwashu was arrested along with Frank and space was made for her foster children at The Haven Children’s Home.

  And what about Zinhle and Sam? Let’s just say they spent many afternoons like this one, together, eating fish and chips in the local park. As Sam stared into his girlfriend’s beautiful brown eyes, he thought to himself that Mr Sotshononda had been right after all – he had learned from his mistakes, and his future was bright.

  Discussion questions

  •Do you think Sam made the right decisions in this story? What would you have done in this position?

  •What are some of the dangers of taking justice into your own hands?

  About the author

  Joanne Hichens is an editor and author working in Cape Town. She curates the Short Sharp Stories Award for the National Arts Festival, teaches Creative Writing at Rhodes University and is currently working on her fourth novel, Sweet Paradise, a sequel to her crime fiction novel Divine Justice.