Too Young to Die Read online

  Mzi winced as he sat up in bed. It still hurt where he had been kicked and beaten. There were bruises all down his back, but he had shouted at his sister when she had offered to treat them. “Are you playing nurse now?” he had taunted her cruelly. “You can’t make things better for me.” And she had left him alone in his room.

  He lay back down, defeated. What could he do? It was Friday and he wanted to go to the party; he had promised Priscilla, but how could he with his sister watching every move he made, ready to phone the probation officer or the social worker if he tried to escape the house.

  He started throwing a small ball against the ceiling. He needed to do something with his hands; he was restless, he had run out of cigarettes and it was too late to go to the spaza. Doof … doof … doof. He knew the sound of the ball would drive his sister mad, that’s what he wanted. He wanted her to storm out and leave him alone to come and go as he pleased.

  Priscilla had sent five SMSes in the last half hour … she was waiting for him at the party … she couldn’t wait to kiss him again … she was surrounded by schoolgirls and schoolboys … what she needed was a real man … She said everything in her SMSes except… have you got the drugs … but he knew this would be the first thing she asked him if he showed up. The first things she asked him after she had kissed him. Doof … doof … doof … the ball made dark marks on the ceiling.

  “Stop that!” his sister called. “It’s driving me crazy.” But he ignored her. They would all be there at the party. He would lie and tell Priscilla that he had the drugs. Then he would have her on his arm. He would show those schoolgirls. He had money for drinks, not like Olwethu who would buy Ntombi a cooldrink, that was all. And those girlfriends of hers wouldn’t get to parade themselves all over the dance floor. Priscilla would see to that. He could have a beer with Vuyo. He was thirsty.

  He lay back and closed his eyes. But it wasn’t Priscilla’s face he saw, it was Thandi’s. It flashed into his mind. She was looking down at him as he lay on the road, kicked and beaten. She was offering him her hand to help him up.

  He sat up and rubbed his head. He had to get out of here. He was going crazy.

  He jumped off the bed and slipped his hand under the mattress, searching for the stash of notes. Zakes’ money felt good, but there was hardly any left now. He would need to get the drugs soon and start selling.

  He moved his hand further to the left and it touched the hard steel of the gun. Don’t tempt fate. He left it and stuffed the cash and his cigarettes in his pocket, had a last look at himself in the mirror, and was ready to go when there was a knock on the front door. His sister went to open it. Mzi hung back, until he knew who it was. He hoped it was Priscilla to pick him up. It would be good arriving in her car. Not walking through the streets like a schoolboy.

  But it wasn’t Priscilla. When he saw the social worker talking to his sister he ducked behind the door and listened.

  “I just came to check in. You see, there’s a party going on at the community hall and I’m told Ntombi and her friends are going to be there. So …”

  “So you wanted to see if my brother was home. Well, he is …”

  “It’s just this kind of event that could trip him up,” the social worker went on.

  “It’s hard for him,” his sister said, “knowing half the school will be there. And Ntombi with her new boyfriend.”

  “I know. If you need to call me …”

  “Thank you,” his sister said.

  Mzi couldn’t believe that they were so friendly. Like two old women gossiping about their children. It made him sick. The social worker would go straight from here to the party, Mzi felt sure of it. Damn! He went back to his room and locked the door, then reached under the bed for the gun. He lay down and started polishing it. Then he aimed it at the ceiling and pulled the trigger. Sqwatsha! Olwethu – dead! All he needed were bullets.

  * * *

  Mzi had been right, the party was full. Ntombi and her friends were dressed up in their jeans and were in a party mood.

  “I need another Coke!” shouted Asanda.

  “Me, too,” added Lettie. “I need more energy to shake my booty.” And they all laughed.

  At that moment Olwethu walked in and looked around the hall that was filling up quickly. When he spotted the girls he waved. “Come this side,” Asanda shouted to him across the room.

  “Why are you running away when I’m joining you?” Olwethu asked Ntombi. He took her hand.

  “I’ll be back soon,” she winked at him. “I’m just going to buy my friends’ Cokes.”

  “Sweet,” said Lettie jokingly. “Don’t worry, she’s coming back.”

  “It sometimes even rains in the desert. Hey, Olwethu?” Asanda chipped in, laughing.

  On her way to get the drinks Ntombi felt someone grab her arm. Someone with long nails. It hurt. “Sorry, love. Oh, Ntombi! I didn’t realise it’s you.” Ntombi shuddered. It was Priscilla, Mzi’s friend, pretending to be surprised to see her. Before she could answer, another one of Mzi and Zakes’ friends, Mzobbish, came over. He was tall and broad and stood far too close to Ntombi. She was crushed between the two of them. What were they doing there? Ntombi was scared. She looked around for Mzi but couldn’t see him.

  “Is this Mzi’s girlfriend? The one who caused all the trouble?” Mzobbish looked at her with questioning eyes, sizing her up slowly from head to toe. It felt like he was undressing her with his eyes. Ntombi looked back towards her friends but the place was so crowded now she couldn’t see them. She was on her own.

  “I am not Mzi’s girlfriend,” said Ntombi.

  “You might have moved on, but Mzi might go to jail because of you. He’s got a social worker watching his every move! You know what I’m talking about.” Priscilla’s grip tightened on Ntombi’s arm.

  Ntombi wondered whether if she ran, they would stop her before she got to the door. But then Priscilla’s attention shifted. Ntombi looked around to where she was looking. Vuyo, Mzi’s friend, was pushing through the crowd towards them. While Priscilla wasn’t looking Ntombi pulled away and pushed through the crowd.

  She had escaped, but her heart was pounding. And she didn’t feel safe in the hall any more. At the drinks table she looked back to see Vuyo talking to Priscilla. She watched as Priscilla pointed to where Olwethu was sitting with Ntombi’s friends. And then Ntombi realised what was about to happen. But she could do nothing. She couldn’t warn them – it would take her too long to push her way back through the crowd to where they were sitting. Vuyo would get there first. All she could do was watch as Vuyo started walking towards them.

  “Hola, mpimpi.” Vuyo was behind Olwethu now, tapping him on the shoulder. He had a beer in his hand, and he swayed like a drunk man. “Do you have anything you want to say to me?” he asked and when Olwethu ignored him, Vuyo started talking louder. “You’ve got a nerve to date Mzi’s girlfriend.” Vuyo looked down at Olwethu like he was dirt.

  “Leave her out of this,” said Olwethu, standing up now.

  Vuyo reached out and took Olwethu’s glass from the table. He looked like he was about to throw the contents in Olwethu’s face, but changed his mind. “What is this? Kiddies’ cooldrink for a kiddies’ party!” He emptied it onto the floor. “Your days are numbered. Sooner or later, you’ll be counting the stars. Nants’ intshiza.” He grabbed Olwethu’s hand and pushed it against his jacket so Olwethu could feel his gun.

  The girls were silenced, their bubbly mood gone. Things had changed so quickly. They were frightened of Vuyo now. But Olwethu seemed calm. “Vuyo, you’re not going to win this battle. Don’t make things worse. You’re not going to solve anything by threatening me.”

  “Shut up,” said Vuyo. “Mzi sent me here. Even if you can speak like an umfundisi, it doesn’t change a thing. Ntshiza reigns, remember.”

  “Let’s leave. This place isn’t safe any more with
Mzi’s gang around,” said Asanda.

  A security guard came up and Vuyo backed off. “Don’t forget what I said, Olwethu,” he called. “This is only just starting.”

  Ntombi saw Priscilla watching them as they huddled out the door. Priscilla waved at her and smiled, then leaned over and gave Vuyo a long kiss. Ntombi looked away quickly, then looked back. Priscilla was now punching a message into her cellphone.

  Back at home, in the dark, Mzi’s cellphone lit up.

  Hi sweetie. Vuyo sorted Olwethu…P

  Mzi read it in the dark. He slammed his fist into the pillow. Vuyo wasn’t supposed to play the big hero. This was Mzi’s battle. What did Vuyo think he was doing? And what was happening between Vuyo and Priscilla?

  Chapter 7

  It was the day after the party and Mzi was smoking behind the small chicken run in the back yard when he heard the front gate being banged. The lock wasn’t working properly. It was Vuyo and Priscilla. He felt a pang of envy as they arrived together. He felt left out, isolated. But he wouldn’t show it.

  “Guys, I’m this side,” he shouted.

  “What? Your sister’s got you working like a woman,” teased Vuyo when he saw the eggs in the bowl next to Mzi.

  “He’s just after eggs. Nothing else,” said Priscilla. “Neh, Mzi?”

  “Hey, maybe one day I’ll do poultry farming just like Farmer Brown. He’s a millionaire. So what’s up?” Mzi heard a clink-clink sound from Priscilla’s bag while she was trying to put it down and to make herself comfortable under the shade.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Mzi asked.

  “Your favourite stuff. Just to kill time,” replied Priscilla, taking out an Amstel for him. “I’m sure you must be thirsty.”

  “For sure.” He took the dumpie from her.

  “And one for you,” she passed Vuyo one too, like she was handing out sweets.

  “You got my message?” Priscilla asked Mzi. “You should have seen the look on Ntombi’s face when I bumped into her at that schoolkid party.”

  “Yes. And when Olwethu felt my gun …” Vuyo chipped in.

  Mzi was silent. He had to tell them now.

  “Ja, sure, I heard. Why did you do that, Vuyo? You weren’t supposed to do that. I’m the one who’s to deal with Olwethu. He didn’t do anything to you.”

  Vuyo looked shocked at Mzi’s tone. “What do you mean? What should I have done? Watch Olwethu smiling there with all those girls cooing over him?” Vuyo tensed.

  “I’m the one who’s not enjoying any freedom. Imagine being at home 24–7.” Mzi was getting angry.

  “It’s OK,” said Priscilla standing up and kissing Mzi. “Everything’s going to be fine. Don’t stress.” She went inside to fetch a glass.

  But Mzi was still tense. How could he not stress. They didn’t understand how it felt. Then he turned to Vuyo.

  “What I need is bullets, bra. That’s what you can do for me. Don’t fight my battles, just get me some bullets.”

  “Sure, Mzi. Relax, man. I’ll get you some. Listen, I know Mzobbish said no more carjacking for you, but there’s this other guy, he’s running for Zakes. Wants to know if you’re in on the next job.”

  He stood looking at Mzi. It would be so easy. He would meet this guy, get bullets, do the hit all in one night. And he would get the drugs. With a gun nobody could stop him. Vuyo knew he nearly had him.

  “Come on, Mzi, like old times, bra. Just one more. Who will know?”

  But what if it went wrong? A shadow passed across Mzi’s face. He wasn’t so sure of stuff any more. He wasn’t the same confident guy who could pull chicks and hold up a BMW without flinching.

  “Hey, give me another drink,” he said to Priscilla as she came back outside. She handed him another Amstel and poured herself one in her glass. They sat down on the concrete and lit up cigarettes. It felt good just to be hanging out with his friends again. He needed more of this. “Hey, I’m sorry. It’s just it’s doing my head in. At home every night. School … home … school … home.”

  “It’s enough to drive anyone crazy,” agreed Vuyo. “Hey, just school was bad enough. That’s why I quit.”

  “Chill, baby. Just open your beer and relax. We’re here for you.” Priscilla put her arm around him and rested her head on his shoulder. Vuyo finished his beer and stood up.

  “Hey, I can see you two are getting cosy. And Mzobbish is having a braai, at home. Isqo. And there’s someone I want to mix with there.”

  Mzi jumped up. He didn’t want Vuyo to go, even though he was mad at him for challenging Olwethu. Something about being left alone with Priscilla made him uneasy. What if his sister came back and found them together? But it was his house too; he wasn’t a baby who had to ask her permission to have a girl around.

  “Hey, as soon as the beer’s finished you’re off. You come and tell me about Olwethu and now you’re leaving?”

  In the old days Vuyo had loved to hang out with Mzi, even in his shadow. But now Mzi’s company wasn’t enough. Mzi was housebound so nobody wanted to hang with him any more. Nobody was his real friend, he thought. They just used him because he had stuff. Now he had nothing, so they didn’t want to be with him any more.

  “Vuyo, since when have you been such good friends with Mzobbish? Remember, it’s me who asked him to put you under his wing.” Mzi threw away his half-smoked cigarette. It was happening without him. He wasn’t needed any more and it felt lonely. He felt betrayed.

  “It’s not like Vuyo doesn’t care about you when he wants to go to Mzobbish,” Priscilla said.

  “Vuyo, is this you? Nguwe lo?” asked Mzi.

  When Vuyo was gone it was dark already. At least Priscilla stayed with him, thought Mzi.

  She took out a bottle of Amarula and asked Mzi to bring another glass and ice. She lit up a cigarette. “Where’s your sister?” she asked when he got back.

  “At my aunt’s. She sometimes sleeps over when she visits her. But she hasn’t phoned to say she’ll come back or not.”

  “Have you thought about the drugs?” said Priscilla. “The guys want an answer soon. Otherwise they’ll have to make other plans.”

  “Don’t rush me,” said Mzi angrily. “I’m still thinking.”

  “Think fast, baby, because otherwise you’re going to be left behind.”

  Mzi couldn’t believe it: even Priscilla thought she could tell him what to do.

  She saw his face change, and moved closer to him.

  “It’s just you and me now, darling,” she said. “Forget about everything else.”

  “So, what’s your plan for the evening?” asked Mzi bitterly. “Also running off to Mzobbish?”

  Priscilla laughed. “The place I plan to visit is not far from here,” she said, standing up and leading him to his bedroom.

  They started kissing. Usually Mzi forgot about everything except for Priscilla’s sweet lips. But now it was happening he found himself just going through the motions. He was kissing her, but his mind was somewhere else.

  Something was changing inside him, he could feel it, but he couldn’t understand what it was. Somehow it wasn’t the same as before.

  When Priscilla had gone he lay on his bed in the dark. But he didn’t want to close his eyes, because he was scared that when he did he would see Thandi’s face again and the kindness in her eyes would kill him. He needed to go out to drink until he passed out. That was the only way he could escape. But he was trapped alone with himself, his thoughts and fears. There was no escape and it scared him.

  Chapter 8

  Priscilla was up early with her BlackBerry alarm. Her mouth tasted sour from the alcohol of the night before. She thought of Mzi and smiled. He would do anything for her. It was so nice to be adored. And he had such a good body …Soon he would be doing as she told him.

  But she knew Mzobbish
would be impatient. These dealers were like children, always wanting everything to happen now.

  It was seldom that she was up so early and she enjoyed the feeling of driving past the schoolchildren, seeing the looks on the boys’ faces at her in her car. It was a day of shopping ahead and she needed all the time she could get.

  Her phone rang on the seat next to her. She looked at the caller.

  Damn. This was one of the few callers she couldn’t talk to while she was driving. She parked her car next to the open lot that locals were using as a dumping ground, where stinking rubbish was piling up. Everything looked deserted. She didn’t notice Thandi walking slowly along the road behind her on her way to school.

  “So when can he start selling the first lot?”

  “Don’t shout, Mzobbish, my darling.” She put her cell onto speakerphone, lay it next to her and lit a cigarette. Somehow the guy made her nervous.

  “I’m not your darling. It’s time to get this out. What’s wrong with the guy? I thought you said you could play him like a piano.”

  Priscilla leaned back in the driver’s seat, letting the smoke out in a rush. “He’s nervous, Mzobbish. That’s all. It’s a matter of time.”

  “Well, we don’t have time, girl. Get him in or he’s out. Do you hear me?”

  “Loud and clear, Mzobbish,” said Priscilla. “Don’t worry. He’ll be running to your door by the end of the week.”

  “He’d better be,” said Mzobbish, and he disconnected the phone.

  “No, he won’t be.” Priscilla nearly jumped out of her skin. She turned around to see Thandi standing with her hands on her hips at the back of the car, glaring at her.

  “I know who you’re talking about,” said Thandi. “Stop ruining his life.”

  “Listen, little girl,” said Priscilla. “Go home to Mama. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ll get hurt if you start messing with me.”

  “I’ve got no mama,” Thandi replied. “And I don’t need a mama to tell me that you are bad news. I’ll tell Mzi how you talk about him.”