In the Real World

by Nōnen Títi

  First on the distribution list are the attic rooms, since Miranda and Bettany won’t need encouraging to show them around. We leave some in the photo albums, but the last four we carry with us to put in the barn for Jacqui and Gabi to find when they run in to switch the tape back off.

  “I wish we could see their faces,” I whisper when we carefully avoid the hidden cassette player next to the barn door.

  “We’ll be lucky if we can see anything from here. Look at that fog coming in,” Lizette answers, reaching for the handle.

  The moment I step inside something thick pulls me backward. A muffled sound alerts me to Lizette falling to the floor before my vision gets blocked by what smells and feels like a blanket over my head. I try to yell, but my mouth is filled with fluff. I try to kick against the weight of the person pinning me down but without success. Next something pulls my ankles together so tight it hurts my skin and then my hands.

  I know it’s the boys; it has to be and I shouldn’t give them any pleasure out of this. Trying to stay calm I wait for them to start accusing us, but they’re not speaking. All I can hear is shuffling and the occasional moan from what must be Lizette. I can’t see or speak, nor walk or defend myself when they pull me to my feet. Suddenly I’m lifted off the ground, unable to stop them. I’m helpless and it makes me furious. I’m jolted one way and the other. They must be climbing over stuff. Where to? I feel so stupid, so out of control. This can’t be. This isn’t funny and why don’t they say something?

  …What if it isn’t the boys? Where’s Lizette? I don’t want this. I pull my knees up and jerk as hard as I can.

  “Ouch, damn,” I hear as my legs drop down followed by a loud clattering noise that frightens the life out of me. There’s a stifled giggle: It is the boys.

  I can’t keep them from picking up my legs again, though I fight and kick as good as I can. Eventually I end up being dumped face down on top of something hard and round – a saddle. How stupid! I force my mind away from the image but the questions come anyway. What are they up to? Their silence and calm spooks me. I just want to get out of here.

  JEROME

  Stuart puts his finger to his mouth to remind us to be silent while ordering Toine and Glen to take Mariette to the other side of the barn. With a gesture he says that he likes the girls this quiet.

  Serves them right too, embarrassing the life out of us. Stuart knew right away that the tree was a diversion, so we left it and ran to our tent to make sure our stuff wasn’t accidentally swimming, but it wasn’t. We came back out just in time to see them coming out of the house.

  “They won’t go to their tent. They know we’ll be after them,” Stuart said and then deduced that the barn was the most logical place. So we grabbed some towels and pillow cases and ran around the back of the shed to get into the barn through the back doors. There was plenty of equipment there for our purpose and it wasn’t long before the girls walked straight into our arms, so to speak.

  Stuart still uses sign language when he lets us know that we’ll attack Lizette first, since Mariette seems to put up a bigger fight. Toine unties her legs and arms so each of us can sit on one of her limbs. She’s pretty much nailed to the floor that way. Stuart pulls down the towel from her mouth but leaves the blanket over her head. “You are now in enemy hands. The only way out is to beg our forgiveness and tell us where your clothes are,” he whispers.

  “Some enemy who hangs their dirty washing out in the tree,” Lizette answers.

  “Tickle her,” Stuart orders.

  “No, stop! Enough, please stop!” Lizette begs, laughing.

  We stop on Stuart’s command. “Now can you tell us where your clothes are?”

  “You took them.”

  “Tickle her.”

  “No, please stop!” She squirms away from our hands, but with that her pyjama top moves, at which Glen tries to reach inside it.

  Stuart tells us to stop. “Beg our forgiveness.”

  “Never.”

  “This is no joke, Lizette. Do it or we’ll string you to that tree.”

  “You do that,” she answers.

  “Tickle her.”

  This time Stuart tells us to continue when she begs. Only when she turns her voice to a sudden loud screech does he put the gag back on.

  “Number two,” Toine grins as we follow Stuart to the other end of the barn.

  MARIETTE

  I can’t see. Wriggling doesn’t help; I can’t make the cover come off. I’m frightened that if I move too much I’ll fall head-first onto the ground. The sounds I do hear are muffled and don’t promise much good. I’m cold, my legs hurt and I’m scared; that about sums it up. Scared, but also angry. This isn’t a joke anymore. I hate them for hurting Lizette, for doing this. I’ll kill them. I need to go home.

  My heart starts racing when I hear them nearby. I have to act calm. It’s only the boys. Yes, four of them and nobody can hear us.

  The relief from the string being removed from my hands and feet lasts only a few seconds. It’s like they all descend on me. As soon as my mouth is free I shout at them, “Let me go! This isn’t funny. Leave me alone!”

  “Only if you admit you’ve done us wrong and beg for our mercy and tell us where you’ve hidden your things.”

  I can’t make out who is who through the cover. “Nowhere. Go away. It was only a prank.”

  “So is this, baby.”

  I can’t stand tickling at the best of times. I realize how stupid it is to think that right now. It makes me angry, but no matter how I try I can’t move away. I try biting, but my head can’t reach their hands. “You bastards!” I yell, because I just can’t be calm.

  They stop then. “Where are your clothes?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Tickle her.”

  “No, no, don’t. I do know. Please, I’m on your side. We only wanted to get Gabi and Jacqui. It wasn’t my idea. Please let me go.”

  “Whoa. This one squeals before she’s attacked. So where are they?”

  “In the cellar.”

  “She’s lying. We searched the cellar. Tickle her.”

  I can’t stand this. I twist and turn; I shout and I can feel angry tears in my eyes but I can’t stop them. “They’re in the barrel.”

  Their hands stop moving but they lurk nearby and I’m frightened.

  “Do you guys believe her? I think she’s having us on. Besides, we’re here to get a bit of justice.”

  “No, please, ask Lizette. I don’t want this. I’ll do anything – just stop.”

  “Anything?” The intonation makes me shiver.

  “No, I-” A towel covers my mouth and, after tying my hands to my feet, they leave me lying on the floor. I’m so aware of what I’ve just done. Bastards! I’ll kill them, I swear. One day I will.

  Suddenly I can hear Lizette. “Don’t Mariette; don’t tell them. They can’t-” The rest is muffled. I hear something fall over. I want to go home.

  JEROME

  “She isn’t talking,” Glen says.

  The tickling and threats don’t work with Lizette. She talks back to us every time. She says she doesn’t care what we do; she won’t be bullied. “Not by a bunch of worm-brains.”

  “Mariette’s told us where your stuff is, so you don’t have to play the hero,” Stuart tells her.

  “I’m not playing hero. It just so happens you’re a bunch of cowards.”

  “Give it up, Lizette, surrender. Your buddy squealed.”

  “You’re just saying that. Tell me where they are then.”

  “In the barrel in the cellar,” Toine says, only to get kicked by Stuart for handing out information.

  “See, you’re making it up. There isn’t even a barrel in the cellar.”

  “We could take away her pyjamas; maybe then she’ll talk,” Glen suggests.

  “Yeah, I will. I’ll go straight to your fathers.” Toine and Glen glance at each other. Lizette is right. She can get us in major trouble.

  Toine figures we
could use Mariette to get Lizette to talk. “We’ll put her life in your hands. See if you can be brave then.”

  Stuart pulls at my arm. “Get the worm bucket from the shed,” he whispers.

  “What for?”

  “I’ll tell you when you come back.”

  I leave the barn. A deep silence hangs over the farm. The fog is thick and eerily still. I sense more than see my way to the shed and pick up the bucket we filled earlier.

  When I get back I see that they have Mariette on the floor at Lizette’s feet, and Lizette is still tied to the pillar in the centre with a blanket over her head. Mariette’s wrists and ankles are fastened with the leather reins to the different pieces of furniture stored here.

  I put down the bucket. “What are you doing?”

  “Just a little convincing tactic. Police use it all the time,” Glen says and scoops up a handful of worms from the bucket before pulling the blanket off Mariette so she can see them. He swings his hand right in front of her face. “Hungry?”

  Mariette squirms away and moans.

  “Do you hear that?” Stuart asks Lizette. “Will you ask us forgiveness now or shall we worm your buddy?”

  “You don’t impress me with those games. I’m one in ten. I know the tricks,” she replies. Instantly Glen drops his handful of muck into Mariette’s pyjamas.

  “I don’t think this is much fun anymore.”

  “We agreed this wasn’t a game, Jerome. They had this coming. You drank to it,” Toine says.

  “Whose side are you on?” Glen asks, offering me the bucket.

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Just one handful. We’ll make her eat a few,” Glen says scooping again. “How about it, Lizette?” he asks, holding his hand almost on top of Mariette’s face.

  She squeals, her eyes begging me. I turn away to avoid them. Lizette can’t see, but she must hear that this is for real. “Give in, Lizette. For her sake,” I try.

  “You’re bluffing. This is all an act.”

  I look at Stuart. “Take off the hood. Let her see for herself.”

  “First you had better prove to us that you’re no deserter.”

  “Just remember what they did to us, over and over,” Glen adds.

  “But those were jokes.”

  “Your diary wasn’t a joke. My camera wasn’t.”

  “Hurry up, Jerome. Don’t be so sensitive. They deserve it and so will you if you’re a traitor,” Toine says, throwing a handful of worms at me.

  They scoop again. I turn away so I don’t have to look at Mariette while they fill her pyjamas.

  “You promised. This isn’t the time to run,” Stuart says, holding the bucket up to me.

  “It isn’t dangerous, is it?”

  “Nah, just a bit of protein; it’s good for her,” Glen says. “It’ll guarantee us peace next year.”

  “We’re only teaching them a lesson, but you have to do this. It’s your job to feed her if you’re part of our team,” Stuart says and pulls the gag away from Mariette’s mouth. She immediately starts pleading for my help, tears in her voice. I try not to hear them. Lizette still doesn’t waver, but this isn’t about Lizette anymore. Even if she’d talk now….

  I dig up a handful of the moving mass and look at it; a hundred little worms, wriggling over and under each other, close together. Not one of them is ever alone. The guys count on me. I’m on their team. And the girls deserve it, after all. They still have their mothers. They ruined my diary. They started this war. We’re only defending ourselves. If we don’t act now, they’ll soon run the show. They asked for it, really, parading in their pyjamas in front of us all day, blaming us, challenging us.

  “No!” Mariette begs when I look at her. Something about that sends a rush of hot blood through my body. My knees almost bend on their own accord. I sit on top of her and hold her face to stop her pulling it away. Aware of the guys watching behind me, I feed her the worms. I meet her eyes at the exact moment that the surge hits my groin. Her body jolts and it almost knocks me over – then she starts choking.

  Stuart yanks me out of the way and pulls at Mariette, trying to roll her over and slapping her on the back. Everything goes silent. I know without looking that the boys are rushing to untie her. Then Glen chuckles. “It’s almost like she was waiting to be fed. Well done, Jerome. I didn’t think you’d be up to it.”

  “Hey birdie, make sure to chew your food next time,” Toine adds.

  I keep my eyes closed for as long as I can. I don’t want to see. To my relief they leave me alone. Stuart tries to convince Lizette again and then takes off her blindfold so she can see that we weren’t joking. She glares at him. “So you really are a coward then?”

  “Do you want us to do the same to you or will you talk?”

  “I’m not scared of a few worms, but you’d better be scared of me from now on.”

  Why doesn’t Lizette give in? This is wrong. I can’t be part of it, but I am. I feel dirty and sick and I stand by while Lizette clenches her teeth and refuses to yell when they fill her pyjamas. Toine and Glen force her mouth open by squeezing her nose, but she spits the worms right back in their faces.

  “Admit it; you failed because your worm is swollen to bursting and bigger than your head,” she says to Stuart. He turns away from her aggressively and kicks the bucket.

  MARIETTE

  I try not to breathe too hard, more relieved that they’re leaving me alone than feeling sorry for Lizette. I don’t want to hear what’s going on. I don’t want to think or I’m going to be sick. I want to go home. Through the blur I only notice Stuart and Jerome above me right before the blanket is dropped over my head. I beg them to leave me. I don’t care anymore if they hear me cry, I just want them to leave me alone. The moment they pull me to my feet I feel the blob of wet muck start to slip down my pants. I kick my legs to try and get rid of it. I don’t want to walk, but my legs move anyway. The air changes; we’re outside, going downhill. Where to? The dam, oh shit, the water! I try to yell but a hand covers my mouth. I try to bite and then pull up my feet so my weight jerks them to a halt. The blanket falls off me.

  Right there in front of me is the dam, a soft shape in the fog. Lizette’s voice alerts me to the three others nearby. “Last chance, Lizette,” Stuart says.

  “Coward,” she replies.

  “Okay, go ahead, she asked for it,” he says.

  I’m not sure how fast my brain puts the pieces together, but the air mattress they put Lizette on is already floating away into the fog before my voice goes off all by itself. “No! Help! Help us!” A moment later a splash makes my heart stop.

  “Shit.” Stuarts drops me onto the bank and starts running, shouting to the others. They follow him into the fog. I sit and stare at where they disappeared, aware of Jerome standing motionless next to me, but it’s not until the sound of splashing and voices reveals four shapes, all walking, that my brain registers that I have a chance to get away. I’m so scared, just so scared. I hate this place.

  Scrambling and falling and despite the muck, I start running toward the safety of the house and when I finally see the hall light through the mist it’s only metres away. I burst into the kitchen intent to get to the cellar where I can be alone and where my clothes are, but I come face to face with Uncle Charl sitting at the table.

  “Your son tried to drown me and they’ve just now drowned Lizette and I’m calling the police and it’s all your fault he’s a murderer and I hate you!” I yell at him, for no real reason other than to make him stop staring at me. It works. He jumps up and runs out the door.

  I climb down the steps, losing bits of the slippery mass all the way. I miss a step and scrape my shin on the drop down. Sitting on the ground, I pull off the filth and then attack the barrel looking for a cloth to wipe away the worms, shuddering at the thought of them crawling over my skin. I can’t stop crying and I’m so angry I can’t get enough air; I feel like I’m choking on a lump of anger. I don’t ever want to go out there again. I
put on the first clothes I can find, struggling to see in the darkness. I kick the dirty clothes into a corner and crawl over some crates to be far away and out of sight. There’s a pile of newspapers and I lay down on top of them. I don’t know why. I’m shivering. I don’t want to ever see anybody ever again. I hate them all. I hate Jerome.

  JEROME

  I think my brain only starts working when the boys and Lizette are back on the bank, alive.

  The first thing they ask is, “Where’s Mariette?”

  “She ran before I could stop her.”

  “She’ll tell, you idiot,” Toine says.

  “We’ll have to tell. Untie her hands,” Stuart orders.

  I do what he says while Lizette kicks at me. They’re all dripping wet. All I can think is that it’s too cold for this.

  “Why didn’t you help us?” Glen asks.

  I shrug my shoulders. They walk by me, turn their backs and start toward the house, Lizette between them. I watch them go all the way. I deserted them after all. I can’t even come up with an excuse for myself. I’m no longer one of them. They’ll get in trouble together and I’ll be alone again.

  “How could you do this to me? You rotten shit!”

  As I turn to the voice a burning shock rips through my arm. “Dad?”

  He raises his hand. I recognize the rein I took off Lizette just before it hits my face. I fall. “No Dad! Stop! It’s me!” I try to crawl away.

  There’s a whistling sound and it hits my chest. It makes me gasp. It can’t be Dad. Dad doesn’t hit… only he’s doing it. I roll away and try to make myself as small as possible.

  “You’ll make me lose Rowan too. You did it to spite me!” he yells. “You’re just like him!” He laughs but it sounds forced and he hits again but misses.