Too Young to Die Read online

  “Mzi is brave to come back to school, not a coward like you, too scared to say those things to his face.”

  He was amazed that such a strong voice came from so small and thin a girl. She looked like she could be pushed over with one finger.

  “Hey,” one of the other girls shouted at her. “What do you know? You’ve been here for one day, and you think you can tell us about Mzi Mlongeni.”

  “Why are you here? Did they kick you out of your last school?”

  “Were you too ugly?” And they started to laugh.

  As she turned to go back into class their eyes met. There was a memory, very faint, of seeing her face somewhere else. But where? She wasn’t the kind of girl who hung out in shebeens. She looked like a church-going girl. He couldn’t believe how she stood up to some of the meanest girls at Harmony High. Stood up for him.

  “Hey, wena, new girl, don’t just walk away. It’s rude you know,” one shouted.

  “Whose side are you on, Thandi – that is your name isn’t it?” another one jeered.

  “Are you his girlfriend now? I’ll tell Ntombi. You better watch out. You don’t want to make us mad.”

  The girl stopped and turned to face them again. “No, I’m not his girlfriend. I don’t have to be anyone’s girlfriend to see when someone is being treated badly.” Mzi stared, annoyed and impressed at the same time. She was looking at him as she spoke. When the other girls had gone they stood awkwardly for a few seconds. Should he thank her? But he didn’t want anyone’s pity, so he turned and walked away.

  He could feel her watching him as he put his phone back in his pocket and ducked behind the sports shed to get that skyf he craved now. There he found a group of boys from his class. They greeted him. For them he wasn’t someone to be laughed at now – he was someone to be respected. They lit his cigarette for him. Being arrested had only added to their admiration of him. It was a sign of being strong and streetwise. In their eyes, Mzi was the bra van die bras.

  “Hola, mpintshi yam. Welcome back.”

  But as he pulled on the cigarette a skinny Grade 10 boy came running up. It was a dare, Mzi could tell, and when he looked past the boy he saw a group of Grade 10s watching, cheering him on.

  “So, what do you do there at your home with your sister all the time ’cause you’re not allowed to go out?” Another boy ran forward, pushed by the group.

  “Ja, who’s checking on your girlfriend for you?” The others roared with laughter. The teasing had begun.

  “Hey! Hey! Why are you laughing?” One of Mzi’s old gang broke in, ready to drive the boy off with a klap.

  “I was just asking,” the boy said quickly. Mzi moved fast, picking him up by the scruff.

  “If you touch me, you’ll go to jail.” The boy laughed in Mzi’s face. Mzi recognised him now – he was Sergeant Ndebele’s son. He knew Mzi couldn’t punch him. He had won. He pulled another long face, teasing Mzi. Mzi dropped him back onto the ground. He moved away and took a deep breath.

  “Look he’s cowering like a dog,” shouted one of the skinny boy’s friends. Mzi turned back to see who had hurled this insult. Break time was already nearing an end and students were streaming towards their classes.

  He would leave it this time. But if he caught one of those boys off the school grounds and out of sight he could really do him some damage. As they went back into class his cellphone buzzed.

  Friday nyt. Thabiso’s xxx P

  Was Priscilla playing with him too? Didn’t she know he wasn’t allowed out at night?

  Chapter 4

  Second break. The boys were sitting under a tree, watching the girls. Mzi squatted against the wall of the shed, and lit a cigarette. He was counting the minutes before the final siren marked the end of school. It couldn’t come soon enough.

  Then he heard them: Ntombi and her friends. They were on the other side of the wall, giggling and chatting. Their laughter was annoying, but he liked the fact that he could hear them, and they didn’t even know he was there. There was something powerful about it. He might not be able to use his fists, but information was power too. And he needed all the power he could get if he was going to get his revenge.

  “Are you ready for Friday night, chommie? We gonna set the dance floor alight at the party.” It was Asanda, he would know that voice anywhere.

  “You did us proud getting to the finals in Jozi, and coming so close to winning, Ntombi,” added Lettie.

  “You showed those girls in Jozi, awulo Fong Kong.” They all laughed. Mzi ground his cigarette butt into the dirt.

  “The dance floor will be ours. Rain or sunshine. Guys, are we gonna have a braai?” There was Asanda again. So damn cheerful all the time.

  “That’s a great idea. Maybe we can meet at Ntombi’s before the party. Hey I’ll make African Salad. Uyabona?”

  “OK, let’s all bring a little something Friday evening and have a party, before the party.” They couldn’t wait.

  “The only problem is those stupid boys, the ones who just hang around as if we were fruit they can pick off a tree,” said Asanda.

  “Yeah, but at least Mzi won’t be there,” said Ntombi. “I don’t want to see that guy ever again.”

  Mzi smiled. If they knew he was listening they wouldn’t dare say something as stupid as that. They were right about one thing, though. He wouldn’t be at the party to put them in their place. And they needed someone to do that, the way they were talking.

  “We’ll dance till we drop. We’ll take over the dance floor.”

  “You know the story of the giraffe,” said Busi. “Well, it asked for shelter from a man just to hide its head from the rain. But it ended kicking the man out of his house,” she joked. “Get it. We’re the giraffes! We gonna take over the place.”

  Very funny, thought Mzi as they all laughed. He would wipe that smile off Ntombi’s face, but first he would make her drop her guard around him. He would surprise her, he would be nice. She wouldn’t know what to do. It was good to keep people guessing – then when you did make your move they wouldn’t see it coming.

  Mit me at da gate afta skul – Mzi.

  He still had her number. He pressed Send. He could hear her phone buzz behind the wall as his message reached her. It was only a few seconds before his screen lit up with her reply.

  Nvr

  Never say never, he thought. She wouldn’t have a choice. He would be there, waiting for her.

  When school was over, Mzi was waiting. Right there, at the only gate in and out of Harmony High. He watched as Ntombi’s friends came out of class in their giggling group. They were moving slowly in his direction. Ntombi followed them. She was in a hurry and waving at someone. At first he thought she was waving at him. But then he turned and saw Olwethu on the other side of the street. He had come to meet his girlfriend and walk her home. Olwethu and Ntombi together! He shouldn’t be surprised. Ntombi ran past Mzi, straight across the road and into Olwethu’s arms. Mzi watched as he spun her around and kissed her. This wasn’t what he had planned. And now her girlfriends, the giraffes, were teasing the happy couple.

  “Hey, lovebirds, enough of that,” Busi laughed.

  “Yes, leave that for the party,” added Asanda.

  “OK, sendikhona,” said Ntombi and stopped cuddling Olwethu, but they stood there, still holding hands.

  “I’ll get a cooldrink for the taxi. Don’t go anywhere,” Olwethu ran off down the street to the spaza on the corner.

  “I’ll be right here.” Ntombi blew him a kiss.

  Mzi couldn’t just watch this love parade. He walked across the street right up to the giraffes. “Hi, girls. I have some business with Ntombi.”

  “You’ve no business with me,” Ntombi said, coming forward. Her friends stood there with their hands on their hips daring him to come closer. “Did you not get my SMS?” Ntombi asked.

/>   “Yes, I got it,” he smiled. “I just want to congratulate you in person on your success in the Teen Voice Competition. Well done,” Mzi said. There it was, that look of disbelief.

  “Please, don’t waste our time. We’ve got better things to do,” said Asanda. She linked her arm through Ntombi’s and tried to pull her away. Ntombi just stared at Mzi.

  “Yes,” said Ntombi. “Don’t waste our time.” But she didn’t sound so sure.

  “Come, let’s go,” said Lettie, and she and Asanda climbed into a waiting taxi.

  “Aren’t you coming?” Lettie called Ntombi.

  “Olwethu’s going to walk me home,” said Ntombi proudly.

  “Sweet,” the giraffes chimed.

  Mzi smiled to himself. He had seen the spark in Ntombi’s eyes in that moment when he had congratulated her. It was still there. She couldn’t hide it. He looked back across the street. Thandi was watching him. Good. He wanted her to see him with Ntombi. He wanted her to know he didn’t give a shit about her standing up for him. He wanted her to know that if she thought she had a chance with him, she should think again.

  Just then an old-style convertible, BMW 3-series came screeching to a stop in front of the taxis. A lady wearing designer sunglasses got out of the car and walked straight towards Mzi.

  “Hi, sweetie.” It was Priscilla.

  Mzi leaned over and kissed her. A long slow kiss, and he hoped all the girls were watching. When he looked up he saw Ntombi’s face as she quickly turned away. Olwethu was staring too, with envy, thought Mzi. He couldn’t drive Ntombi in such a car. He couldn’t offer her what Mzi could. Mzi saw the look in his eyes and Priscilla dangled the car keys and then laughed as Mzi grabbed them and jumped into the driver’s seat. There was no way a woman was going to drive him home.

  The soft-top was down, letting in the nice sunshine and a breeze. Priscilla turned up the kwaito sounds. For a moment, behind the wheel, he felt the old life come rushing in. As they got to the turn into Mzi’s street he couldn’t avoid a white hen pecking for food. It became a whirl of feathers and blood.

  “Oh good,” said Priscilla. “We can have chicken for supper.” They laughed.

  When they pulled up outside his house he was sorry to get out from behind the wheel where he felt so in control, the old Mzi.

  “Are you alone here?” Priscilla asked as Mzi let her in. She was looking around the lounge.

  “My sister’s probably gone to the spaza. Why?” Priscilla moved very close to Mzi, lifted his chin slowly, and kissed him.

  “Let’s gate-crash that party Friday night. I want that little Ntombi to see me on your arm. Don’t worry about those vultures watching you. You aren’t dead meat yet.”

  “Sure,” Mzi replied, laughing. He hadn’t felt like this since before he had been arrested. Then a door slammed and his sister appeared from her bedroom. She had heard them.

  “You’re crazy to listen to her.” She looked at her brother, then glared at Priscilla. “She just wants to get you into trouble. If you go out after dark I’ll report you to your social worker and say you disobeyed me.”

  “You wouldn’t do that. You couldn’t.”

  “Watch me,” she said.

  Priscilla raised her eyebrows. “How can you let your sister be the boss of you?” she asked Mzi as his sister left the room.

  She was right, thought Mzi. Nobody was the boss of him.

  “You’re still one of the men,” said Priscilla. “And I have a message from one of Zakes’ guys. No more carjacking.”

  “I know that,” said Mzi. “Do you take me for a fool?”

  “But they’ve got other work for you,” she smiled. “They want you to do some selling at school. Zol. Get the younger kids hooked – begging you for more … Bit of extra cash, hey? You’re in the perfect position. Their other guy’s left now and it’s always good to use someone who is at the school. Security’s getting strict.”

  Mzi frowned. “I don’t know. It’s a risk.”

  “Of course it’s a risk, sweetie,” said Priscilla. She came and gave him a long kiss. Her mouth tasted good. “You’re that kind of guy,” she whispered into his ear, then gave it a little bite. “That’s why I like you so much.”

  Mzi did not have time to think about her words, as her hands started getting under his clothes. Soon he wasn’t thinking about anything.

  Chapter 5

  ‘You’re that kind of guy. That’s why I like you so much…’ Priscilla’s words played in Mzi’s mind like a catchy tune; he couldn’t get them out of his head. She had such a sexy, sultry voice. A voice that could seduce any man. He could do it. He would get hold of the drugs. It would be easy to sell them at school. You could sell those kids anything if you knew how. He needed to do something. It was his second day at school and he was going out of his head with boredom. He didn’t know how he would last the week. And he had to report to the social worker and pretend that he had seen the light – and repented his sins. Never!

  He was lost in his plan to get drugs from Mzobbish on his way back home as he walked past the taxi rank. He didn’t hear the woman run up behind him until she was a few paces away and started screaming.

  “Skollie!” The high-pitched voice rang out. He spun around to see an old woman lift her handbag and swing it through the air toward his head. It clipped his ear and he winced with pain. He was amazed at how strong such a thin old lady was. She must be crazy, he thought, attacking strangers in the street. And then he recognised her. He knew those mad eyes and that voice like a witch. It was the granny of the girl his brother, Themba, had got pregnant. For a long time she had waged war on Themba and his family. And here she was. “Just like your brother. Go back to prison where you belong!” People started gathering around them as she hit him again.

  “Gogo,” he started saying.

  “I’m not your gogo, you tsotsi,” she spat at him and struck him with her handbag again. This time the silver clasp at the edge of the bag caught his eye, making it water.

  The granny saw the crowd around them. “He’s a thief!” she screamed. That was all it needed for the crowd to attack him. A tall man grabbed Mzi by his collar. “You’ll pay for what you did!” he said, and pushed him hard, so hard he fell to the ground. Another man came in with a heavy kick. “We don’t want your type here,” he said, and kicked him again.

  Mzi felt his belly crunch, saw the angry faces circling him. Besides the pain, he felt a helpless anger. Where were his people when he needed them? If they were together nobody would dare attack them. But this crowd knew that Zakes was behind bars, and Mzi was alone.

  There was a stab of pain in his head. He saw a heavy boot swinging back, coming towards him. A man in a baggy jacket looked like he wanted to kick Mzi into some nearby goal posts. Mzi squirmed out of the way, got onto his hands and knees, feeling blood pouring down his face. The tall man pushed him down again. It was only then that he started getting really frightened. He knew these crazy crowds, knew what they could do. People were looking out of their windows, coming closer to watch the action.

  A shrill voice cut over the crowd’s roar. “Police!” He recognised that voice. It was Thandi. On his side again! But what could she do against the crowd. Some people laughed and jeered at her. But she shouted again. She must be mad, like the old woman, thought Mzi. What was she doing following him like that?

  He turned his head and saw her running towards him, a police van behind her. He heard the sound of the sirens, and saw the van ramp onto the pavement near them.

  Suddenly he was alone. The crowd had melted into the road as if nothing had happened. The old woman who had started it all was nowhere to be seen.

  It was a strange feeling to be grateful as a policeman helped him to his feet. But his heart sank when he saw the policeman’s partner. He wouldn’t forget the face of Sergeant Ndebele. He was the one who had put him b
ehind bars that night. He was the one. Olwethu had run to for help.

  “He’s a tsotsi,” Ndebele said, disgusted that his partner had helped Mzi, “We should have left him to the crowd.” And he lifted his hand up as if to hit Mzi. But his partner pulled him back.

  “There’s no justice with those crowds,” he said. “Nobody has even stayed to accuse him.”

  And the two of them climbed back into their van and roared off leaving Mzi still dazed, his school shirt torn and bloody. The terror in his veins turned into rage. He was alone – see where following the rules got you. If he had been with the guys, not going to school like a good boy, then he would be safe, protected. And he would be getting the respect he deserved.

  “Are you OK?” Thandi touched his shirt. It was in shreds, and red with blood. He nodded. He had no words for her. Yes, maybe she had saved his life, but what kind of a guy was he if he needed a girl to look after him, a girl whose strength lay in calling the police. No, what he needed were different kinds of strength. One was called brothers and one was called guns.

  He limped off, Thandi walking next to him. “That granny has caused a lot of trouble,” she said. “She likes stirring people up, cooking the crowds. I’ve seen her do it before.”

  He did not reply. “Do you want a tissue?” she asked as he wiped blood from a cut off his cheek.

  “I’m fine,” he said shortly. She seemed to get the message because she stopped walking as he carried on. He wanted to look back to see what she was doing. Was she just watching him walk off, or had she just gone off in a different direction? But he didn’t want her to see him looking back at her. So he limped along, head down. There was no way he could go looking for Mzobbish now. There was only one thing he could do and that was to go home to the house he had come to hate.

  Chapter 6