Smash 'n Grab: part 2

A ringing was in his ears. It took Stephen a moment to realise that it was his cell-phone’s alarm ringing next to his bed. He grumpily got out of bed and made his way to the living room. A foul smell reached his nose. Where was it? There, right in the doorway. Stephen quickly jumped over the pile of vomit and fetched a wet cloth. He held his breath as he mopped it up, all the while thinking about the homework that he hadn’t done. He rinsed the cloth out in a bucket and then quickly got changed for school, throwing his books in his bag and then skipping out of the house.

The cold air of the fresh day greeted his face. A lingering smell of ash hung just above the wet ground.

A watchman came past and greeted him, “Sawubona, my friend,” – Good Morning

Stephen grunted in recognition.

“You are early for the bus! Stay for a while. I might have something that could interest you!”

Stephen turned furiously to the watchman. “For the last time, Gavin, I don’t care about stupid cigarettes or cigars or whatever! I’m not a smoker and smoking doesn’t interest me”

“Chill, Stephen, my brother. So what are you into then? Anything I can help with?

“No, Gavin. Nothing you can help with. Unless you could change a leopard into a lion.”

“Ah, the black man has fallen for a white woman,” Gavin whistled. “Iemand soek kak, ne?”

“Ja, ja. En wat se jy? Daardie jong vrou wat laaste week hier was? Hoe oud was sy? Fifteen, sixteen?”

“Ok, Steve, ok. Call it a tie?”

“Just don’t go giving more of those home-made cigarettes out to anyone too innocent. Ok?”

“Anything for a fellow brother,” laughed Gavin and walked away whistling.

Stephen sighed and walked to the bus stop. If the cosatu strike was over by now, he would be able to catch the six o’clock bus and maybe intercept Tammarin on her way to class…he might even ask to carry her bag for her…

His daydreams didn’t come true; the bus station had experienced load-shedding and apparently none of the workers could get the garage doors open without power. Stephen had to resort to walking.

The bell went barely five minutes after he arrived at school. It was a dreary day for Stephen and once more he found himself in front of his math’s teacher, staring out the window. Looking out at the school grounds, he couldn’t help but notice a bit of activity on the edge of the rugby field. Peering closer, he noticed Jake Johnson, the school jock and rugby captain. He was snooping around very suspiciously. Once more, Stephen found himself raising his hand.

“Yes?” asked the horn-rimmed bespectacled teacher.

“Sir, I need to go to the sick-room,” said Stephen.

“Aren’t you supposed to use more eloquent language?”

“Sir?”

“Nevermind. Just fill out this form and then you can go.” Stephen jumped from his seat, threw his books in his bag and quickly filled out the blue sick-room permission slip. “I expect that excersize-“ but once more Stephen was out of the classroom before he could hear what exercise had to be done.

He jogged quietly along the deserted corridors, checking every now and then that no teacher, or student, was following him. He reached the edge of the shaded corridor and deposited his bag in a corner before walking slowly onto the field. Sure enough, he had been right; Jake Johnson was standing behind the stands, ruffling about in a bag. Stephen approached him slowly.

“Didn’t like class too much, did you?” he asked, leaning against the stands.

Jake jumped and turned suddenly on his heal.

“Oh, it’s just one of you,” he said.

“One of what?” asked Stephen, eyebrows clenching.

“Whatever. Almal van jou skelms is die selfde,” he added in an undertone, returning to his bag.

“En almal van julle jocks is ook die selfde,” Stephen said casually.

Stephen didn’t expect anything, but in a flash he found himself, for the second time in 2 days, pinned up against a hard surface, hard even muscles rippling just under his adam’s apple.

“Watch what you say to me,” spat Jake in Stephen’s face.

“Likewise,” choked Stephen and Jake tightened his grip. “Ok, ok, I’m sorry!” Stephen choked. “Just let me down, dammit!”

Stephen slid to the soft grass, Jake towering above him. Normally Stephen would fight back, except for one small problem; Jake and Tammarin were almost a couple, and he didn’t want to ruin his own image in her eyes – he would rather ruin Jake’s.

“You better watch yourself. You and that brother of yours. I’ve seen the photo.”

Jake’s words seemed to clench the air in Stephen’s lungs. He felt that he couldn’t breath any more.

“Wh-what photo?” he stammered.

“Moenie speel met my nie! You know what I’m talking about! If you, or any of your little friends, dare make a wrong move…then I’m after you. And it wouldn’t hurt if I got a little extra funding once in a while either. Say, one hundred a week?”

Stephen looked shocked; was he really being bribed?

Jake returned to his bag and started to rummage around in his bag again. He seemed to find what he was looking for and clenched it in his hand before pulling it out. Stephen could just see a sparkle of silver amidst the massive fist. His eyes grew wide but he turned and left the field with a plan fully formed in his mind… But, for that plan, he needed the one boy that had put them all into this position; Kingsley.

The plan seemed to be the only thing that kept Stephen going through the upcoming days. On the Thursday he found what he had been waiting for; a small slip of paper stuck unceremoniously into his bag.



Stephen

If what you say is true, then we’ll meet.

Friday morning. BEFORE the match. Smoker’s corner.

Kingsley.



Stephen read the note over twice. Before the match? Why? Then he had to quickly clutch the note in his fist as Tammarin approached him.

“Heya Stephen,” she smiled. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to you lately, you’ve seemed really preoccupied.”

“Er,” stumbled Stephen, “I have?”

“Well, yeah, and I was just wondering if you remembered your promise to me? That you would join me during the rugby match?”

How could I forget? Thought Stephen, but instead he answered, “No, I haven’t forgotten. I might be a little bit late but otherwise I will be there.”

“Great!” Tammarin smiled.

God that smile is gorgeous, thought Stephen. “So where can I meet you?”

In the end they decided on behind the stands just before the match, and Stephen walked off feeling happier than he had in a long time, but feeling uneasy all the same; Friday was drawing closer.

And too soon it arrived.

A watery sun shone over the neatly pruned rugby field. Flags waves softly in a quiet wind. The calm, to Stephen, was unnerving. He wanted it to be pounding rain onto a squashed and mud-filled field, wind to be screaming in his ears, anything to drown out his forever pumping heart.

The school had the day off because of the forever front-page game. A small trickle of students in cheerleading outfits filtered past, giggling loudly and exuding a happiness that Stephen wanted to strike down and kill; today wasn’t fun, today was serious.

He walked silently and uninterrupted by anyone towards the hall. Double checking that no one had seen him or followed him, he slipped around the hall and, hands in jean pockets, displaying an air of control and authority, faced the smoker’s corner.

It looked bare with a few stompies trodden into the harsh cold cement. Only one lone figure, the guardian of the corner, stood tall and proud of what he called home.

“I didn’t think you were going to pitch,” sneered Kingsley. “Especially after you ran away with your tail between your legs last time.”

Stephen breathed and let the comment pass over him. Kingsley’s sneer disappeared.

“Well, you wanted me here,” spat Kingsley. “Now speak!”

“I’m not gonna have a shouting competition with you,” said Stephen calmly. “I’m here to talk.”

“I’m listening.”

“The job you got my brother to do –“

“How do you know about that? Did Luvengo rat us out?!”

“NO!” shouted Stephen, his air of grace being dashed against sharp rocks. He caught himself quickly and recovered. “No.”

“Then how-“

“How do I know?”

“Yes…how?”

“There’s evidence against him. I’ve seen it and anyone could put two and two together.”

“What evidence? Who has it?”

“A photo…”

There was silence, but Kingsley was nodding his head.

“It makes sense,” he said eventually. “There was a flash. We thought it was a tazer or something. But it was a camera wasn’t it?”

Stephen nodded.

“But then how did you find out?”

“I’ve seen the picture.”

“You’ve…but when? How?” said a visibly frightened Kingsley.

Stephen sighed. He gathered himself for the answer. Of all the people out there, Tammarin was the last person he wanted to put in danger, but to save his brother, he had to say the truth.

“The person you robbed,” he began, “was not alone in the car. Yes, there was no one else in the front seat, but in the back there was someone sitting there playing around with a brand new camera. When Luvengo smashed, she shot. The picture isn’t a very good one, mainly because she was on the wrong settings at the time, but you can see the culprit…you can see that it’s Luvengo.”

“Who’s the other person? How did you find out about all this?” demanded Kingsley, a fiery and overly evil glint in his dark eyes.

“You’re not going to hurt the person!” Stephen stated. “I have an idea how to get the camera, delete the photo, and return the camera.”

“R-return? What? Good merchandise like that? No. Rather take the camera and get rid of the whole thing! Don’t leave a scrap of evidence!”

“No!” finally Stephen’s cool exterior was shattered. “You will not do any more harm to this girl! To that family! You take without even the slightest thought of your actions! All you want is the merchandise, but what about everything else that goes along with it? The photos with all the memories…the keychains that were given on mother’s day…the flash disk with all the work of hours! You don’t think!”

“Ok, chill man,” drawled a bored Kingsley. “I get it. We don’t think. So what’s your grand plan?”

Stephen sighed and divulged his plan.

An hour later, Stephen was behind the stands, waiting. His palm were sweaty and his heart was racing. Would Tammarin still come? Then his heart skipped a beat as he saw her angelic face coming towards him, but her face was sad and he could see that it was tear streaked. Stephen ran to her.

“Tammarin, are you ok?” he asked immediately.

“I’m…I’m ok…it’s just…well, you think you know this country, and you trust the people around you, and then you just get proven wrong again and again and again!” she sniffed – even that was pretty. She moved towards him. Her eyes welled up – how could he resist? She was close enough to touch now. A tear ran down her cheek and landed on his chest – what was he doing?

He was hugging her; hugging Tammarin to himself; holding her shaking, crying and white body gently in his strong, firm black arms. He was muttering “all-rights” and “okays” into her lemon scented hair. He was rocking her slightly in his arms. It was a moment of heaven while all around him hell was going on.

In less than a second it ended. He was jerked backwards by the collar, smashed against the poles of the stands, and slid down to the ground. A trickle of blood oozed down his neck. He was double.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” the scream echoed in his booming ears, drowning out his own heart beat. He looked blearily around, trying to make sense of the scene in front of him. There were three different figures looming over him and one, with a blonde flow of locks falling from her head, was pulling at the biggest of the figures – pulling with all her might – and moaning at him. The taller figure flew out an arm – a peach blur of movement to Stephen – and hit the blonde figure. The blonde hair disappeared from Stephen’s sight as if fell to the ground.

With a jolt, Stephen realised that that dumb jock had just hit Tammarin! With a flurry of on coming colour, Stephen stood up and punched Jake under the chin. The dummy stood on the spot, swayed and then, with a roll of his eyes, fell backwards, his body landing hard on the earth.

“You arsehole!” screamed the boy that was with Jake. “You bloody well knocked him out! You’re in huge shit! You’re gonna regret this!”

But Stephen wasn’t listening – he was at Tammarin’s side and pulling her into a sitting position. Her eyes fluttered behind her eyelids.

“Tammarin?” Stephen asked tentatively. “Tammarin, are you okay?” he asked with more urgency.

Her eyes opened a fraction and peered out to the rest of the world, a dove awakening from a storm and checking to see if the rain had ceased. Then she opened them properly. She looked to Stephen and then to Jake’s body which was now being dragged unceremoniously by his friend away from the scene.

“Did you do that?” she asked.

“What?”

“Knock Jake out.”

“Yes.”

Then Stephen felt as if his cheek was on fire; Tammarin had just kissed him! If he was a white boy, his face would be red! Instead he just gaped at Tammarin.

“That,” she said, “was for making me feel better.”

Then Stephen felt as if his cheek was submerged in molten lava; Tammarin had just slapped him!

“And that was for knocking my boyfriend out!”

“What?”

Tammarin got slowly to her feet.

“Now, if you don’t mind, I have to be off. I have to report the theft of my camera.” She dusted herself off.

“Er, Tammarin,” said Stephen.

“What?” the ice in her voice told him everything he needed to know – Tammarin didn’t care about him anymore… all he had was that moment of heaven.

Instead he tried to control his bitterness and said, “Why don’t you check in your locker –“

“Don’t you think I haven’t already?”

“– because maybe you didn’t look properly –“

“Don’t you think I have eyes?”

“ – and sometimes we just miss things by mistake.” He turned and walked away, leaving her alone with only his trail of blood leading her to him.