Thirteen Cents: A Novel (Modern African Writing Series)

by K. Sello Duiker

  “Fuck the drugs. Word is he killed some people. Well, let me say he killed a family. Two kids and the wife and husband.”

  “So why isn’t he in jail?”

  “Wait. He didn’t just kill any family. Remember when the Staggies got killed?”

  “Ja.”

  “Well. Gerald took out one of Staggie’s powerful connections, bra. Out like that. One time, the whole family. You mustn’t fuck with Gerald. He’ll kill you.”

  “But the police. Why didn’t they do anything?”

  “Don’t talk kak. What could they do? He did them a favour. He took out a powerful drug lord.”

  “Ja but still.”

  “Ja but still what? How can you say that? Which planet are you living in? This is South Africa, bra. The police were also in it. Times are shit. They also wanted a slice of the action. So you see you mustn’t be a windgat with Gerald. He’ll take you out. One time and no one will do anything about it. I mean fuck, you’re just another street kid. Worse, you don’t even have any connections in Cape Town except for me.”

  “So the police are also in it?”

  “Of course. Ba Batla borotho. They want to eat well. Streets are hard, hey. We give those assholes a tough time. Half of them are fucked on crack and buttons when they go to work.”

  “So that’s why I saw Gerald talking to the cops.”

  “He has to. He can blow their whole cover. So they give him breathing space under the bridge. That’s his castle. Thing is the guy is loaded but he can’t spend his money and he knows it. You know how that would fuck with anyone. I mean, imagine being worth a lot of money. I mean, I don’t know how much money Gerald has. Maybe millions and he can’t spend it because of the shit he’s into. It fucks with you. Fuck, Gerald is a predator. Be very careful around him.”

  I take in the information and sigh.

  “Don’t worry, you’ll be all right. Just don’t fuck with him.”

  “But now, how come you are here and I’m in there?”

  “Because there’s only room for one predator at a time. Like in that movie Jurassic Park.”

  “I haven’t seen it.”

  “You never saw Jurassic Park! What have you been doing in Sea Point?”

  “Hiding. Anyway, you were saying about that movie.”

  “Ja, in that movie, right, there’s this dinosaur. You know what that is, don’t you?” he says laughing.

  I nod my head. “I know what you’re talking about. They were monsters as big as the Cape Sun that used to eat each other.”

  “Ja, those. Right. Now one of them was called T-rex.”

  A car drives near. The guy indicates to go in but decides to move off when he sees Vincent.

  “Poes. Anyway, T-rex was king of the dinosaurs. He was like a lion. He killed them all. Everything. In this movie, right, they try to control T-rex but they can’t. They put him in a cage but he manages to escape. In the end T-rex eats people, the guys who captured him. It’s heavy. You see him chewing this one guy in half in one bite. Funny!”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Mpintshi. You gotta learn to listen if you’re ever going to survive.”

  “Right, I’m sorry. Go on.”

  “So now T-rex, right, he’s Gerald. You check,” he says in one breath.

  “What?”

  “Just listen to me. Listen to me. T-rex, he’s Gerald. You check,” he says and looks me in the eye.

  “Okay.”

  “Not okay. That guy is heavy, he’ll destroy you. People talk of the devil. The devil is nothing. I’ve seen him and he was nothing like T-rex. You say why am I out here and you in there? Because T-rex put me in here. You check. That guy is heavy, Mpintshi, heavy. He knows everything. You can’t fuck with him.”

  “Are you fucking with my head? He sounds like Allen.”

  “Please, Allen! Gerald can destroy him with his breath.”

  “What are you telling me? What about all the things you were saying about Gerald before?”

  “Just listen. Gerald is T-rex. Understand it. Overstand it. I don’t care, just accept it, all right? Look, have I ever lied to you?”

  “No.”

  “Now why would I say a thing like that if it wasn’t true? You check?”

  “He took my shirt . . . my shirt with the blood,” I tell him.

  “Really. Look, we’re not going to get any work done today. Let’s go.”

  We go towards the train station.

  “Ha! You also got a railway line, I see.” He smiles and pokes the stitches under my left eye.

  “Five. It’s not too bad.”

  He grabs my crutch and starts hopping around with it.

  “I see you got your old shoes back.”

  “Ja, I have to go through Gerald first now.”

  “This is Cape Town, never forget that. Okay?”

  I nod.

  “I got you new shoes. Nice ones. Tackies. Reebok.”

  “Ja, whatever. I’ll wait till this comes off first,” I say and point to my cast.

  “You look different.”

  “They fucked me up.”

  “No, I mean there’s something different about you.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. Something in your eyes.”

  “What are you talking about? Now you’re talking kak. Are you doing an Allen on me?”

  We cross the street and go through the station. People walk in every direction.

  “Wait. I know what it is,” he says excitedly, like he won a prize. “You look older. That’s it, you look older.”

  “I feel it,” I say, strangely agreeing with him. “I feel thirteen.”

  “When’s your birthday?”

  “Soon.”

  “You mean you can’t remember?”

  I shake my head.

  “Fuck it. Then today is your birthday. I’ll get some zol. I know where we can get good Malawi. They even wrap it up in cobs, fresh from Malawi.”

  “Good,” I tell him.

  We buy some mnqusho and mageu from the taxi rank and sit outside the old Castle and eat. I eat quickly.

  “So you were saying about T-rex?”

  “What was I saying? Let me think. Right, you were saying he took your shirt with the blood.”

  “Ja, right.”

  “And he’s probably got your other shoe.”

  “Right, bra. I wanted to talk to you about that. I saw other shoes in his room. He’s got them stacked up on a shelf.”

  “T-rex, he’s hungry. He’s always hungry.”

  “What do you mean? What is that T-rex shit?”

  “I mean T-rex is hungry.”

  “But who’s T-rex?”

  “Azure, this isn’t hard, man. Shit, you think life is 1 + 1 = 2. Well, it’s not. People have been doing this shit for ages. Let me tell you something. If you’ve got enough voetsek in you and you know the right people, with a bit of money you can do anything. And that’s what Gerald did. He’s T-rex. He’s fucking destruction. And the police know it.”

  “They do? How?”

  “Because they’re also into the same shit. No normal man can deal with the shit these guys put up with so they use anything they can get.”

  “Like T-rex?”

  “No, not like T-rex. T-rex is a predator. He works on his own. That’s why Gerald lives under the bridge. They have to control T-rex, otherwise . . .”

  “Fucking destruction.”

  “You check.”

  I nod my head and sigh. “What does T-rex want with me?”

  “Don’t ever mention T-rex when you talk about Gerald.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? You ask stupid questions sometimes, you know. You must ask questions that go somewhere. You see that bird over there?” he says and points to a bird pecking at something near us.

  I don’t say anything. I feel my throat tightening up with fear.

  “That’s right. He can hear us. So you see, don’t fuck with Gerald, he’ll destroy you
.”

  “Let’s get some zol,” I say nervously. But I remember that I have to be back at five.

  We both get up. The pigeon watches us.

  “Wait. He said I must be back by five. He said something about some job that I had to do for him.”

  “Then don’t smoke. You know how you get when you smoke, bra.”

  “Ja, I know. Shit!” I say and let out a scream. “My life is fucked. Things are never going to be the same again.”

  “Don’t be so fucked. You don’t know that.”

  “Ja, but Gerald knows everything.”

  “He does,” he says flatly, “no jokes.”

  “And he gave me a name too. Blue.”

  “He gave me Vincent.”

  “It kind of suits you. You look like a Vincent with your railway line.”

  “Blue. It’s different.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “Be careful what you say,” he says and points to the pigeon, still pecking away. I don’t know whether to believe him or to laugh.

  “You make me scared when you say things like that.”

  “Well, it’s the truth.”

  “Listen, bra . . .”

  “You need to go. Relax. I know.”

  We hug like brothers and then we walk together towards the station.

  “I’ll see you around,” I say and walk towards the Gardens. He watches me while I walk.

  11

  My feet are sore, they have walked too much. My eyes hurt. They have seen too much. And it never ends. It just keeps going. I can hear a clock ticking in my head. I can hear bicycle spokes running, a car speeding. Speeding very fast, screeching. That sound, it goes on forever. In the Gardens I lie on my back and look at the sun through the shade of a tree. I see blades of light and fall asleep.

  I dream deeply. I always do. My dreams are fragile enough to make me wonder. When I wake up I can only feel the sun on my face. The shadow has moved. It’s the sun. It does that to everything. It moves things.

  I look at the tree’s branches. They are reaching out to the sky, to the sun. Feed me, they plead. Trees are beautiful. They are dancers. They are graceful. And they have quiet spirits. If you sit quietly long enough, you can actually hear a leaf falling. That’s how trees speak. They drop things. They lose things all the time, so that others may find them. They know how to give, trees.

  Fuck knows how many things I’ve lost along the way. The way in Cape Town, it’s a long road, winding. I’m always lost, that’s why I hide out in Sea Point. Get it? “See Point.” That’s where my eyes are. That’s where I can see the best. I miss Sea Point. And I know that I can never go back there.

  The air is warm and smells sweet from all the flowers in the garden. Pigeons hover near me. I look at them dancing near a branch. I know what fear is. I know what it means to be scared, to be always on the lookout. I know what it means to hear your own heartbeat. It means you are on your own. The world is watching you but only you can hear the music. The mad music of bicycle spokes and speeding cars. I know what it feels like to hear your own fear beating in your ear. I know what it feels like to bite the insides of your mouth to control the fear. I know what it feels like to bite your nails till your fingertips are raw and sensitive to everything you touch. I know fear. And I hate it. I live with it every day. The streets, they are not safe. They are roads to hell, made of tar. Black tar. There are things watching us when we sleep. Terrifying things. In my dreams I see terrifying things; monsters that steal our breath. Sometimes when I wake up I’m just glad that I woke up and didn’t fall asleep forever. Forever is a long time. What would I dream of forever? If I had a choice I would dream of swimming. Nothing else – just swimming in the sun all day.

  I think of Gerald and my heart begins to race. How will I ever face him? Death would be easier. He frightens me. I look at the pigeons, the stupid pigeons, and wonder.

  It’s my birthday today. I’m thirteen. I feel it too, all those numbers. I can see them clearly and they all make thirteen. One. Three. I must understand that number. I must understand what it means to be a grown-up if I’m going to survive. That’s what they all keep telling me. Grow up. Fast. Very fast. Lightning speed. Everything is always like that. Quick. You must act quickly. Understand quickly. Otherwise someone will fuck you up nicely. They’ll beat you up so that you must always remember. When you go to the toilet and you feel a terrible pain in your stomach and balls, every time you sit you will remember that everything has to be quick. You will shit quickly because it hurts too much if you take your time. They will make sure you remember.

  And you must do everything. You must because they say so. If they say Jump, you must jump. If they say Sit, you must sit. Otherwise they will fuck you up nicely. They always do if you don’t do like they say. You must do like Gerald says, I tell myself.

  I look at the sun directly and my eyes strain. When I look around me I see fire. I see lots of fire. You’re getting stronger, I tell myself. No thank you, Gerald. No thank you. I must learn this. I must understand what it means. No thank you. The grown-ups want me to understand this. When I do I will survive. This is what they tell me. Even Vincent tells me this.

  I’ve been walking around town like a lost dog all day. Everyone seems to know where they are going except me. I ask someone for the time and decide to go home. Blue, that’s my new name. The bridge, that’s my new home. Out here the world passes you by if you don’t listen. It crushes you. Go home, I tell myself. You are getting stronger.

  * * *

  I go to the bridge. Gerald’s car is outside his shack. I lean my crutch against one wall of his shack.

  “I’ve been expecting you,” he says when I go to the door. He opens the burglar door and lets me inside. “Sit on the bed,” he tells me.

  I try not to look around even though my mind is racing with curiosity. It is dark in his room. There are no windows.

  “Drink,” he says and offers me some cooldrink in a glass. “I’m glad that you came earlier than I expected you. Did you meet Vincent?”

  “Yes,” I confess.

  “Good.”

  He walks to the corner of the room while I sit facing the door, the light. He gives me blue tracksuit pants. The material glitters.

  “Put this on,” he says.

  I take off my pants nervously and put on the blue pants. He takes the old pants to the corner of the room. I hear him shuffling with some clothes behind me.

  “You have learned to live with fear,” he says.

  I keep quiet. He closes the door and locks it. I’m scared. He lights a candle and puts it on the table facing the door. Then he pulls a chair beside me.

  “Do you know who I am?” he says. He is wearing an orange T-shirt.

  “You must never wear this colour,” he tells me. “Only the sun and I can wear it. Understand, Blue?”

  I nod my head.

  “Why are you scared? And don’t think about it.”

  “I am scared of the dark,” I tell him.

  “What’s there to be scared of?”

  “Monsters.”

  “Do you think I’m a monster?”

  I don’t answer him and he smiles.

  “Do you know who you are?”

  “I don’t know anything anymore,” I tell him.

  “That’s why you came to me,” he says. “I brought you here. I stole you from your parents. I killed them.”

  I remember Vincent’s words. Ask questions that go somewhere.

  “I killed your parents because they were going to hurt you.”

  “But I loved my mother and she loved me.”

  “You didn’t love your mother. You feared that she would say no to anything you did. You did everything to please her. Your father hated you for that. He was going to kill you.”

  My head feels dizzy as I take this in.

  “You ask why, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you still thirsty?”

  “I’m always thirsty.”r />
  He pours me a glass of water. I drink quickly.

  “Your mother thought she was an angel. Her father loved her above all the other children. She gave you that thing. That’s why people have been beating you up all your life.”

  I listen.

  “You must let your mother go. At night when you sleep she calls you. You dream of her, don’t you?”

  “Always.”

  He pours himself some cooldrink from the same glass I used and puts it on the table, near the candle. I watch it bubble.

  “Do you know who you are?” he asks again.

  “No, Gerald, I don’t.”

  He takes off his clothes and sits naked on the chair. The light catches part of his face and his tight muscles.

  “Do you know who I am?”

  “Yes, Gerald.”

  “Do you see what your mother has done to you? She has made you a puppet, a fool. You say yes to everything.”

  “No, Gerald,” I say. Learn this, I tell myself.

  He takes my left hand and points to a scar on the inside of my wrist.

  “Do you know what this is?”

  “No, Gerald.”

  He turns his back. A huge scar with horns runs down it. It seems alive in the candlelight.

  “You burned me when you were three. Remember?”

  “No, Gerald.”

  “You burned me with fire when you burned your bed. You gave me a sign. You wanted me to see you when the time came. You asked for me. Do you remember?”

  “No.”

  “I stole your memories, the things you did to me. After you burned me you nearly gave me death with drugs.”

  “I want to ask something,” I say nervously.

  “Then ask it, damn it. Don’t always wait for me.”

  “But I fear you. I fear that you will hit me.”

  “Your father used to beat you. Did you fear him?”

  “No, Gerald.”

  “Do you see what your mother did to you?”

  “She used to sing to me.”

  “But do you see what she did to you? Her and your father.”

  “What did they do to me?”

  “They made you stronger because you understand fear.”

  I nod my head.

  “What’s this sign on your back?”

  “It’s a bull. Can you see its horns?”