THE WORD FOR MY WORLD

The making of Darfur--the movie assignment

2009-05-12T23:10:00.000-07:00

SOME LOVER

2009-04-27T14:20:00.000-07:00

I love there pretty,I love there surely

The ground your light feet touches

Exceedingly for years i’ll remember

And be bound to deliver your home vine

Over the seasons, dry or wet

I shall dress you in my leather coat

When the sky bleeds and for the cold

I’ll set you up my shoulder to pluck

The unreachable apples of summer

And shut the mouth of beast’s and smite

And be a lover amid all the clock ticks

You my lover, are a bliss of my eye

And i shall love there, though to spirit

We came and shall return

Going on

2009-03-31T06:50:00.000-07:00

The bitter sweat on cracked lips
Stinking sweat between the
Gorges of my stinking worn buts
Sand grains in my peeled shoes
And the blisters are down to flesh
I’ve long gone, long predestined
And long forgotten how I’d start
This dreamed odyssey, that urged
My soul to perceive and preserve
That I should carry on and on
And going on, till the quest’s mastered

There are still mountains, still
Canyons and deadly thorns
Still brutal elements to taste
How’s my endurance and my vow
Is it by strength or by a vain dream?
That I should carry on to this surprising
Never reached by saints point
And still going on and on

Like the myth said, do not give up
The universe rewards, him who’s tired
And still determined to carry on
It’s the heart of the tiger, the heart

Of a wariour, a strong desire
That catalyst through all labyrinths
And lastly finds its light in the nick of
Giving up, go on!

HARDCORE

2009-03-25T14:11:00.000-07:00

From all that ails the world
That the creators created
That affects others
All forming a hardcore
Swelling his heart
Making helpless sighs

From hope he retreated
He couldn’t stand it
He was involved enough
Nothing was left
All thoughts were crooked

And his soul, the Creator
To take, he prayed

“Oh, heaven, take me away
Take me back, if necessary
Wind back time and
Unborn me”

As if heard, soon
Fate takes charge
It swept its whip
In the bottom of
His heart

The echo pieced
Within his ears
And more sighs
Groaning-groaning

To much noise
Much disturbance
Only hadn’t he
The ears and eyes
He couldn’t had seen
And heard

These two different pairs
They’ve gathered all along
Till now, twas heavy
He couldn’t fly, his soul
Weighted

His heart vibrated
Inside his soul, he saw him
It wasn’t a dream
But his spiritual identity
His conscious condition
In a vision

Under aching barefoot
Toiling
The earth shaking
He was staggering
Under the influence
Of the subconscious war

Of course knowing
The same drum
Someone as well’s playing
The hardcore beat

But should he surrender
This journey
Since this will of
To be and not to be
It wasn’t his mother
Or father to sign

“Oh heaven, impartially
Are you?”

He wept, from all thousand tears
These became his last ones
And died a sad man
Hoping an explanation
From his God

The baobab root

2009-03-25T13:48:00.000-07:00

Strengthened, the baobab root

That wound underground

That pushes through the rocks

Separating all that awaits

Like a wriggling worm

The patience, slow and sure

All the way down, clamming

Tugging the source, water and earth

Sucking and swelling

The heat of the sky, above

Foliage barricades

Tight trying-tight shading

Restraining the sucking sun

But still spotlights are there

There under the shadow

The root pushes-meandering

Sucking and swelling

swelling the trunk

Exuberant, leaves forming

The branches stretches, heaved

The early fruits, the green leaves

All hailing to the root

As well birds of the air

Dwell secured within the height
Through all the seasons

The baobab root toils

Breasting for growth

THE URCHIN BIRDS

2009-03-22T04:45:00.000-07:00

Down in the street corners,
There are sad children mocking faces
Strongly urging for our compassion
Their loved ones deprived long time ago
The only will for their survival
Like the birds they wander and picks
And we say humanity
Where is the reflection?
And we say togetherness
Don’t our eyes see and our conscious feel
Aren’t they amongst us?
Certainly, let God alone
There ought to be something we can do!

Now that you've gone

2009-03-21T09:00:00.000-07:00

Now that you’ve gone!
I wash my sore soul sweet by
Fraying imaginations
Of precious love-
Our very acts and not
Exaggerations

Without ease, but truelly slow
For these truly we had shared
That of my good were yours
And yours were mine

And my bad I’d endure regrets
From your lovingly reprimands
I didn’t argue, I didn’t hate you
But I’ve bore you as my only
Heavenly pearly, a mentor gift for me

But now that you’ve gone,still
Your path I stroll ease
Now alone, pale and lonely
Now that you gone!

SHAKESPEARE

2009-03-21T06:25:00.000-07:00

This fellow dead writer

How he made my heart ache

I saw his characters

Surrounding my bed

At strange night time

Their deem gloom eyes

Freaking me with pale

Grave impression

But should not i chicken

For if i do, tomorrow, i’ll

Set his loads on fire

I’ve seen his horses

Great strong gallopers
With sure, they moved

And stomped my head

Mounted, his made up

Knights enveloped in

Vicious winds and mist

Swiftly kicking the earth

And
Calling“Attack–attack,

whoever not born of woman

shall die tonight”

His evils, his heroes

His masqurade comrades

His pen and papers

And his brain, filthy and clean

At once–how can that be?

For he called God, He called

The devil and say, hey two felloz

Give me moves, I've seen

I've felt, I've known

And i must confess

I LIKE MY MOM

2009-03-21T05:34:00.000-07:00

I like my mom, she’s love
The morning milk splash
In my dear loving porridge
The pudding and the cake
Of last year birthday
In all these she’s the delight

Bedtime stories, she’s also
Author—the very best untold
I love her fairy lands and the
Characters from old Bimbo
The little swindling hero
To Violet, the fairy born of flower
He charming eyes that flies roses
And brightest stars

She calls me sweet—she calls me
Darling, she calls me naught
When I lick my plate in satisfaction
She gives me honey—she gives me
More care, when I’m sick I need no
Nurse I did rather prefer my bed
And let her do the nursing

I like my mom, she’s compassion
The tear drops from my dad’s scolding
With her palm gently weeping away
And the embrace by her softly bosom
Makes me ache for my babyhood time
To suck her breast and fall asleep

THE LITTLE STORY

2009-03-20T00:36:00.000-07:00

Somewhere down the Broadway Street
There is a little butcher’s daughter
She's waiting for her little boyfriend
With a khaki paper wrapping a little meat
Her boyfriend got a little story
It ain’t hard, it ain’t easy, it's just
This couple is trying to make ends meet

It’s always the ego for a little something
That makes life prevail in a little way
I the writer got a little story too
Which is this, with this little couple?
It ain’t hard, it ain’t easy, just
A piece of paper and a broken pencil

This daughter got a little story too
She’s waiting to explain
The little thing in her belly
However she’s sure, herDaddy is to freak

It’s always a little chilli in the soup
That makes her daddy gas out rage
She’s thinking to elope with her boyfriend
But afraid that he won’t buy that
A little work, a little money
Her boyfriend is to find it hard
To afford, the little baby and the girlfriend

A little food, a little medicine
You can’t say this is a little stress
For her boyfriend, he’s all alone
If this little story don’t change the better
One of the little couple is to commit
A little suicide
Where this little story would leave us?
I say it’s got to be a big story

HE LOVES ME LIKE A DOLL

2009-03-19T14:26:00.000-07:00

He loves me like a doll
Tossed me on the air
With love
His hands held me with care
Then glared in my blue eyes
And whisper a soothing note
In my ears- I heard it tickle
Against our hearts

He loves me like a doll
As he runs his palm
Across my face—whispering
“Smooth” calmly, after a sigh
My hair aside, he brushed
And kissed my lips like lollipop
As he licks

He loves me like a doll
Chuckling, childish,
As he hugged me
The uncountable time
Feeling the resonance of his love
Drumming—drumming
Beautifully

He loves me like a doll
Picked me lightly
On bed-carefully he laid me
By my side as he lay tooTender embraced
We fall asleep
In silence—blue sky
Above our room

He loves me like a doll
In his dreams he hums
My name—his leg
Between mine

He loves me like a doll
All day and night
In the morning-waked up
And found him gone
I cried—he chuckled behind
Our bed with a tray
Of tea

THE WRITER, A HAUNTING ROAD

2009-03-16T10:24:00.000-07:00

You’re driving along the Deadhood Street
The radio is bursting, loud, hard
Striking your mind, trying to resist
The haunting bloodthirsty atmosphere
This within your mother’s city
And this is you, leaving with unpaid sins’

What you gonna do, in the middle of the night
What you gonna do, dark spirits start frightening
What you gonna do, the dead are coiling your mind
What you gonna do—writer—what you gonna do?

The gas runs out, the car comes to halt
Your chicken heart start to shiver
Cars are long gone; so ain’t hitch hiking

You try to fall asleep, hand clutch a rifle
Something evil is brushing by the window
And you feel cold, very cold
Wandering, yet, all windows are shut tight
What you gonna do?

Startled, you open an eye, there stands
Hovering eyes, glowing red in set view of blood
And when you blink twice, you find them gone
There is one cigar left and you suck it quickly
It’s quite, but you heart is loud, beating
The very beat that makes your readers hearts beat
Are paranoid fantasies catching? No! You believe
Aha, creepy writer fellow, what you gonna do?

Now it’s time to generate a move and start the road
There ain’t colours, just plain empty darkness
And indeed you hit on the road, trying guts,
But doubtful you stand and that’s ain’t faith,
You have to, to see darkness as light
Never the craving for more cigars

Further, after a long walk—aha, there
There is the other city, the midnight city tower
Is now close, you marvel at the tiny light
Being blotted with leaves up the heights
‘There are ancient dead beneath their shadows’
You own book, you quoted, and it’s in the soul
And now haunted by self designs

At last the dim moon emerges
Never with yesterday’s star clusters
Nor the ones that you saw, when having sex
With Molly, on that soothing night
And by then, you hear a familiar sound
The sound of the jackal, then dark spots
Start crawling under the dim moon
Getting dimmer and dimmer
What you gonna do?

And you know something evil, is out there to kill
You doubt it; really your words can’t be coming reality,
Same said by the scriptures‘
The word became flesh and—and—’
It becomes speechless, you’re doomed
Here they were travelling with you
Here they were activating from your
Dormant memory to terrorise their creator
What you gonna do?

You wander if ever you would see the light
Or chill on Lilly’s, breast; yes sweet Lilly
The one you’ve got, since molly died—
How she died, writer you know!
The book you offered her had a curse
The secrets of darkness, you shouldn’t had shared

The small glittering dots, you can’t mistaken
For fireflies, they are embedded in darkness
And seem, winking eyes of evils
And you’re out of your comfort zone,
However, not quite enough can it be one,
The four seat Citroen car
Not even any sign of it, perhaps you
Should turn back, but no—you must keep going
Keep your thoughts steady and fear not,
And then you shall be saved

You can’t steady them, they are being driven
Your mind is being pressed with the devils fist,
You feel the compression of your body
Getting thinner and thinner, you’re falling in,
Deep in the abyss of darkness, the devils filthy mouth
To swallow and munch———— munch
Great bites, cracking the head on the stone
Plucking the brains out and eat-munch-munch
Blood dripping——and—and?

Just thoughts, the force of imagination
You don’t stop—you carry on
Almost trembling and gnashing your teeth
Your stomach is not fine—no! Not at all

Aha, there afar, there is a figure spot walking
Fast, maybe terrified with your presence
Maybe, you should do the same and catch up
Should it be a being or not?You wonder,
But the fleeing remark, made you quicken,
To accompany the stranger

You’ve now got a handsome distance, it’s now
A bit prominent and you can hardly see
The lady in a fray white dress
Her hair being swept with the wind
Barefooted and she looks in need
And indeed moving fast and you’re suprised
You haven’t yet gained the distance
It’s still the same–weird!

Your feet ache, like you’ve walked all your
Life long, you’re thirst and completely tired
You’re afraid to meet her, your heart strongly urges
You can’t help it, death or no death
You must face your challenge and fight
And after all, it’s in the book—to fight

Finally you’re close, she doesn’t look back
Though your foot tries the tar to gain her attention
You can see blood on her dress, her feet dripping
Something you can not name, tousled hair but pretty
Yours stands on end, you’re undesirable element
On these parts of land, at the wrong time
And your heart starts to tremble, your mind
Singing a scary meaningless song, incanation

There is no way to stop it, it’s flowing hell’s floods
Your imaginations are very strong, you had pumped this in
Your books had done quite good on the markets
It’s time for pay back–“Pay back–pay back”Goes the song

What you gonna do, you’re in the middle of the night
What you gonna do, maybe she’s a vampire
What you gonna do, she’s gonna suck you dead
What you gonna do, your characters are after you
What you gonna do, writer, what you gonna do?

The atmosphere completely changes
The snares and whines are tightly coiling
The moon is shadowed with clouds
The dark figure after you is wanly smoking
You want to turn back, but you felt it
You’re stuck, you’re being controlled

She turns back and faces you, pretty and innocent
She stops for you to come, though you fight to cease
But you can’t, you’re hypnotized, she’s pulling you
The way she pulls up her dress for you to see her thighs
While her breast dangles off her dress
Her eyes, every move you take, they change
Her mouth widens, teeth getting long and ready for a bite
And now you know, she’s a vampire, the incuber

Looking like Molly, the face comes closer as if to kiss you
There is a fetid air brushing your nose, the eyes are green
Her face angelic, that you can’t resist, you even move over yours’
Receiving the kiss, it’s nice—yes nice, very nice,
The ecstasy is growing strong, and you fear her not
But care for the lustful existence of her lovemaking
She got down on you neck, you set your hand across her waist
And she bites, you feel nothing but pleasure and completely.
Welcome to the night walking dead

The vanity of man

2009-03-15T03:30:00.000-07:00

WHERE ARE WE?

2009-03-12T10:00:00.000-07:00

WHERE ARE WE?
PART 1

Where are we? With the quest to know where we belong, looking around on all the seeming negative and positive attributes invented by men and we find ourselves here by ourselves, individually with fragile critic minds, perhaps thinking we’re stuck or we’re the best progressing amongst all the Guru’s lore’s, waiting to tackle some deceivers down.
There is a deceiving protocol in a human spirit that cannot be seen even with tries of physicians, and cannot be denied, it just depends on what experience of life you’ve gathered so far. It’s very sweet when it plods through the mouth and awareness should be a must in every man.
The unnecessary pillars of religions (impacted like a race of different endemics) cycling our minds and we know there lay the labyrinth contrary, since we began to understand the roots of life is when our quest to where we came from and where we’re going began. We were just thrown in the maze and got polluted with muddled arts of men, but the way is one way forward, there are keys in these mazes in our minds and somehow we’ve got to find them and utilise them wisely as life goes on.
There are keys of revelation, the revelation of the masterwork of the Creator, meditation though considered as funny or tripe, the way you want to call it if you’re a critique of it, it is one of the solutions. You can be able to communicate with the high power and make changes in whatever situation you're in or someone else.
After all, seek not the end of creations; if it is difficult don’t go far, the beginning is the only alternative, good to the end, the end will be at the beginning. Seeking the way to the end would never extend us to the superior of the Creator, but leaves us extremely unsettled with firm obstacles high than where our planes inventory had ever reached, the rocket launcher or whatever beyond, however knowing, the importance and advantages of virtue.
We’re not alone in this world and had never been, whether in a closed cave or an abyss, there is air you’re breathing there, and it has eyes.
In other way, let’s live the present not by stuff that is beyond way forward, or to come after us, however aware not to spoil or to be spoiled the virtue that had been bestowed in our spirits. Ephesians 4 v 13-14 says (Till we all come to the unity of faith, to the knowledge of the Son of God, to a perfect man, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, that we should no longer be children, tossed to and fro and carried about with every wind of doctrine, by the trickery of men, in the cunning craftiness of deceitful plotting.)

Here we see the Government corruptions, the religions boasting up on the other hand, save criminal activities, prostitutes and all to do with sins. This drives me to think of this Beelzebub story, when Jesus, says, if Satan drives out Satan, how can a kingdom stand? Well, the ideal here is how can humanity be equal and happiness prevail, when amongst in the law, there are people who are possessing corruption. Yes, the ones who distribute drugs and yet there are calling up “Drugs erodes your future—stoooop!” anti prostitution, when amongst them some are contended with various sorts of sexually diseases that had been gathered from a lot they slept with. And in religions, someone here is calling, come God is here not there, this is vanity, not all who preach good things are capable of doing it, they is something drawn there by deceiving.
We know there are many with this, there are many today and many there had been and the blame for us not getting exactly the first call, we shove it back to those who had lived before us and the one’s still following their steps.
We know we’re right, there are the once to blame. That’s where the truth we seek today began to be corrupted and where are we today? Seeking or mending, if we’re mending or the better picking up the pieces. We’ve got an interesting subject then; have ever one try to seek a pen in his hand latter to find out how stupid he had been?
Well, I guess that’s where we are, maybe, nothing is lost and nothing is broken, we’re trying to find a spot in things that had been purified already, thus spoiling with too many footprints which are to be followed as well by those after us.
Many of us don’t accept the radiance of glory within us; we resist it, we live by men made naturalism, we fall in their wit tramps. History has got it all, but, all the centuries that had prevailed, truth and liars got mixed together like the grains of sugar and salt and should we let our offspring keep on inheriting what we have. I know this is very complicated, but if we don’t, then the worse has them.

As the scripture of John mentioned, at the rejection of Christ by the Pharisees, behold a high Priest came and said.
“Nor do you consider that it is expedient for us that one man should die for the people and not that the whole nation should perish”
The Pharisees knew of the advent of Christ, but when Jesus emerges amongst them, they couldn’t believe, I guess they expected a star to fall from heaven to earth, claiming it is the Son of God or an extraordinary UFO to make rounds attracting every eye before it launches on the earth.

Now is the time, now that you’ve grown up in too many complicated experiences of life, now is the time, for you and me to ask ourselves where we are? Of course, do so, all what your sight and hearing had collected to now on, by how I had explained bellow, muster the works of gathering and group them as group A, that you had accepted from others, mark as, B. Now, what had you achieved so far? Which group has the highest elements that had kept you strong and achieved the best you have? And is that the best you had wished all along? Are you satisfied? Didn’t they brainwashed you? Or you had found your own truth? Or you still got a lot you want to learn?
The truth is, it’s not enough what you’ve got so far, no matter how old you are, in your thoughts you still determine to extract the aspects of life, because you know there is a lot in it, by doing so you’re wrong in some levels, for some of these things you seek to know are none of your business, there are the creator’s business, stay away this hurts! Unless you’re strong, reader, go on tell us, where are you?

MY CREATIVITY!

2009-03-11T11:44:00.000-07:00

OH MY!
"This is my story
My world, my pride
My voice, my right
My dream, my being
My motto, my talent
My cornerstone
Myself, my love
My you and me
My sport, my spot
My word to the world
My other friend
My other mom and dad
My destiny!"

"Call me love, call me friend
Call me sunshine, call me warmth
Call me pride, call me warriour
Call me healer, call me god
Call me writer, call me singer
Call me superman, call me me
Call me teacher, call me kind
But above all, call me yo
For you and me are one"

"Right--my aunt Judith, & her daughters son
Left--Richard, her son and daughter Trish,
whom the birthday party was hosted for"

Me and Noah Danby

"The gun is not for killing/hurting, it's for protecting what's precious"

DANGEROUS LIAISON

2009-03-10T08:48:00.000-07:00

DANGEROUS LIAISON
BY EPHRAIM LEO CHAPARADZA

"Those who trade
with the devil have
their rewards"

Discovering Mona dead on the floor of my bedroom against the bed’s leg made a current shock running through my veins. Her hair was tangled desultory all over her dry sweat face like a moss nest fallen from its notched branch of a tree. Wide fixed gloomy eyes peering through her hair wisps generated high degrees of beats to my heart. Her sleeping gown was neat and clean, the bottom skin was clean, despite the strange look starting from her neck to the hair. I felt sultry all over as if I’ve just mistakenly accessed myself down in the abyss of hell, my legs went numb, my lips dry and my mind more than whirled as if my brain had launched on a rollercoaster.
I thought, someone, somehow, somewhere out there should give me a great bottle of whisky and whisky and let me pass out quickly at this spot and restart on this scene latter. But would that make a difference on every illegal or legal ground of this earth? No! It would still be the same; Mona was dead indeed, for the first and last time.

Suddenly at the moment enormous emotions reeled in a flash to Jane, my soul native wife who had gone on vacation to the coast with her old school friends. Jane had promised to be back on the 13th of the upcoming month. It was October 27th, seventeen days to go, this aroused alarm in my mind. Good but not good at all, there was still time to create some explanations and think about what has to be done! As they say the results of infidelity, this result was looking at me with grave piecing eyes.
When the liars bumped on to the shape of truth, they hit the spot where it hurts most. All this time they appeared sweet like honey, which made me not want to share it with anyone. I knew if I let someone have a lick, especially Jane, it will turn bitter, even to me. So I thought it is better to keep the sweet taste secret, yet even the air is watching.
Derrick is my name, the son of a bitch! I was in a freaking mess!
During school I knew sweet enticing ways to make girls fall for me, especially newcomers, and had more often got away with it. Therefore girls, who became aware of my lechery and lustful habits, used to call me by a pseudonym - dangerous zone. I was handsome, smart and handed my words intelligently when it came to proposing to a girl.
However, because of this habit I ended up in this situation - a dead woman in the same bedroom I share with my wife Jane, who was still on vacation without having any idea of this betrayal and the heartbreak I had ploughed for us. The blade came to a stop. It hit an underground stone and halted. The end was stuck, so was I - The dangerous zone. I thought about letting out a heavy sigh... what have I done?
No blood was spilled nor was there any signs showing she had wrestled with his or her killer. There was only dry grey froth on her lips. A bottle of diet coke I had bought for her early in the morning was placed half drank on the bedside table, and a novel laid on the covers. She must have been reading before all this had happened, I thought, and walked towards her. My feet were shaking as if they were made of rubber. This scene didn’t produce tears at all, but I felt them deep inside. They were up to the brim of my soul and felt like being as heavy as a ton. There wasn’t any exaggeration in my soliloquy; I could actually feel the utmost weight.

No! I couldn’t touch the corpse I had to call the police and that might lead to the killer’s arrest, I thought, but Jane was to find out and frankly that would be the divorce. Instantly a dark force influenced me to wrap the body in one of the covers, throw it in the boot and dump it somewhere far I had never been, especially in the sea. After a golf course I knew about that place and that was miles away, yes! Of course why not! After all it was the only option to make better this calamity that had shattered my personally embedded cheating legend. If later on they discovered her body floating above the sea, they would think she drowned suicide or any other way and if I won’t get caught life would go on as usually.
And still I sighed, my hands shaking. The courage was moderately week and I strengthened it a bit more and took a large duvet from the wardrobe. I came back to her, quickly spreading it over her, and then gathered her within the duvet. I picked her up feeling the weight slumping over my shoulder like a block of rock, then staggered as I went to the open door.
My car keys were by the kitchen counter where I had left them. And soon the body was in the boot, I by the driving wheel heading to dump a dead secret girlfriend so that I won’t be nailed for the crime I didn’t do against the outer law but in the realm of the law that me and my wife shared. I didn’t kill her didn’t I? No! But she was dead, homicide committed by an outsider. The time on my car watch was reading 7:30. Thank God it was dark, but God had no any slightly support over this, I thought, and then should I say thank Satan, yes! I was carrying his work, I thought and the feeling I got from that was totally gruesome. I hesitated to carry on and thought of Jane my wife, the divorce the pain and suddenly I set the car in motion.

Time moves faster in Cape Town than at any place I’d been and soon I would forget about this. That is if I was that strong enough, since I’d never killed anyone before. I wasn’t sure if the memory of this day would ever go away.

After a week the wicked deed had gone well according to how I had just planned it and evil had known, and God too, and I was pitched between them in trial. But the memory gripped on, it was like a scar that no any other medicine can heal off, you don’t need a plastic surgery to prevent this scar of a terror, it simply continues. And all the seven days that had passed I had been drinking too much whisky ending up sleeping wherever I could be, waking up with painful hangovers.
At work several work mates had asked me if I was sick, on stress or something, and responding them I insisted that I was fine but just had some financial problems I was working on. October 3rd, day a workplace friend of Jane called asking if Jane hasn’t yet come back from her vacation. Her mother called too the same day to ask how I was doing; ‘Great!’ I had answered her with clear confidence. And her grandma visited me on the 6th and we shared a couple of cups of hot cappuccino by the garden lawn chairs. She didn’t notice the guilt that I held inside, I guess the whisky had worked that trick out. On the news no missing reports came, Mona had had no husband or any relative I knew of, she was just a girl I always went to pick up at Green Point every time when I felt so and only when Jane wasn’t any close.
I had no idea who the hell on earth had killed Mona. We had worked in private the two of us and maybe she had had enemies in her prostitute business affairs. If something had been stolen at my place, of course, I could have thought it was the work of a bugler, whoever had killed her, was smart. The day after her death I had scrutinised all around the yard for evidence of how the professional killer had managed to get inside despite the firm razor wire (blades) above my yard brick-wall and none evidence came to my naked eye.
On the 8th, 5 days to go, to face up to Jane my wife and pretend as if nothing blood or fishy at all had happened. I wasn’t sure if I was to handle myself with good confidence; my eyelids would be heavy to look in her eyes. My heart would beat terribly, especially when we would sleep in that that- that bedroom. That dead woman will haunt me for injustice. But was it justice letting me sleep with her; was it justice for her waiting by the robots every night with a handbag for any men to appear for sex? Nah! We were on the same page it would be unfair if she resurged from the dead to haunt me, she was trying to make some money and I was-was? Damn! But I had a wife.

On the 13th Jane arrived after dusk, I was drunk, lulling by the settee, and I could smell the sweat that had gathered on me from the two days that I hadn’t bathed. Stress had a huge meaning on me as if I had killed somebody, something told me that yes, I had, and I admitted it, but not on that sort of sense. I had killed my personal soul peace. That was the sense I could understands, not exactly having killed someone.
The moving car outside interrupted my nap I was just taking to ease my mind a bit before I was supposed to take a shower. I opened my eyes, heard her jingling keys unlocking the Maxdor and shut my eyes at once pretending to be asleep. Her faint lurking steps followed next, and suddenly I felt her kiss on my forehead, I pretended not to wake up and so she decided to nudge on my shoulder that would wake up me after all.
“At last, you’re back!” I said not showing surprise.
“Have you missed me?” she asked while I stood up to kiss her straight on her lips, forgetting the smell of whisky that was stinking badly from my mouth.
“Ugh! Hey! For Christ’s sake, Please!” she frowned turning her head aside. “So you’ve been drinking all this time I was away. You promised not to drink again remember?”
I couldn’t find any means to defend myself, both by lies or truth, and by not being able to do so, I turned away to look at the wall. She stepped close to me. “What’s up? Are you sick or something?”
“No! It’s just complicated” I said, trying to return to the same fixed gaze she shots at me as if wondering what really was up to the brim of my mind. Like always she cared for me as if I was still a baby. I knew Jane’s mind well than any girl I had had affairs with before. She could read the level of my mind mostly when I was trying to hide something from her, and this had made some of my days hard to carry along with. Especially these days, which we were to carry on along together, me knowing that I had thrown a dead body in the sea, a body of the one I had been messing around with behind her back.
“You know you can tell me anything Derrick. I’m your wife; we can work together on it.”
Yes. I thought, we always had, but this is a different issue. Spilling it up could be the end of us and I’m not ready for that. We haven’t yet even got kids together, mind me on that Jane, no! I thought and brushed the sleep off my eyes restraining the trembling of my hand.
“ It’s nothing to worry about Jane, nothing!” With the grave expression on my face, what I had just said was deniable at once, even to a little kid you always fool around with telling him that a bogeyman has eighty white wide eyes that spin and bulge. Lie! She looked at me and I looked aside shyly. Then she made a click disgusting sound with her tongue, and headed to the bedroom. As if after thought, she turned and faced me in the eyes again.
“Go on, keep on lying to me, I’ll find out. Go, get the luggage in my car boot, I can’t carry them, I’m too exhausted!” And so I went to fetch the luggage, trying not to think much. I came back, pulling the two-wheeled suitcases on both my arms. In the bedroom she was undressing to put on her sleeping pants.
“Hey! Should I make you something to eat or coffee before you sleep?” I asked putting the suitcases in the wardrobe feeling the weight I’m carrying inside. “No. I ate already on my way”, With that I left to take a shower expecting to find her asleep, but I was early, she was now seated by our bedroom computer writing a message. When she heard the sound of the door opening she clicked off the message page and that startled me a bit. What was she writing about? I thought, sitting by the edge of the bed my back behind her. I took off my shoes and swiftly pushed them under the bed.
“Hey! Can I have that coffee you had offered me?” Jane asked when I was just to stand up heading to the kitchen for a cup of my own, “Cool!” I said, not looking back. Instantly, I suspected that she had sent me for that cup, so that I couldn't see what she was up to.

When I came back with the two cups steady on both hands, she was now seated straight by the bed and I wondered if she had went on well with her secrets during my small time absent. Her face was pale and tears were promising in her eyes, the lips were sort of trembling. She received the cup with a nod of thanks. I nodded as well and sat against her. She began.
“Are you sure that there is nothing you’re hiding from me?” she asked looking through my eyes and I felt weak. I didn’t know if my face was showing any prominent guilty consequences. I could see her eyes so gravely suspicious. My heart beat again, and she heard it. With a faint sigh, I touched her hand and she suddenly threw it aside as if they were dirt or heathen.
“Don’t touch me Derrick, just tell me what have you been through when I was away. Did you kill someone?” The sound of that came like a sharp edged boomerang piercing deeply in my heart. “No! Jane, okay--okay!” I shouted, “I’m just sick that’s all!”
“No, you’re not sick, Derrick, you’re lying-lie!” she shouted back and paused and I moved a little away from her, startled. Should I tell the truth or should I not? This was tough like trying to break an Egyptian pyramid with a fist. The pain was rising rapidly now. All the alcohol that I had swallowed early was all gone; I was now alone, which is in a cleavage that I had invented on my own.
“Let me tell you what I feel, Derrick, what I felt the moment I stepped in this bedroom. I had felt weak to my belly as if this room is on curse from something cold that had been carried on in here, and I need to know what it is. I am by your side whatever it is, trust me!”
Whatever she was feeling I was sure it was identical to what I was feeling crawling scorpions in the mind and on my flesh, it felt as if those woollen maggots that leaves your skin itching were all terrible slowly crawling over my body. I couldn’t believe all this, and I thought all were just imaginations urged by what I had done; this couldn’t be what they call haunted, I thought. Now the cup on her hand was shaking, sloshing some of the coffee aside, and I rose from the bed and began pacing the floor. I didn’t want to say anything, she placed the cup on the floor and again she boomed tremendous.
“For God’s sake WHY!” she whined and stood up heading to the door, the echo went on a bit while irritating my eardrums.
“Where are you going?” I asked under my breath. “Coming just now!”

I didn’t follow her. When she came back after a couple of minutes, she found me still pacing back and forth with joy forsaken face. She stood against the door, gazing at me, and I knew she needed my attention. I went to set back by the bed, looking at her defied contentious expression and I knew she was ready to devour me with something knew.
“I’ve called the police!” Frankly she said like she always does when she had ordered a pizza.
“Wha-a-a-a-t?” I shrilled with a high piercing tone surprised. “For what reason did you do that, Jane!” She left the door and walked a bit closer to me with that smart adorable confidence an officer can have when interrogating someone.
“Well you think I don’t know what happened. I know everything, Derrick, from when it began to where it ended. It’s been some time I’ve been watching you sleeping around and bringing prostitutes on our bed. And I kept shut my mouth knowing that one day I’ll get you down” Heavily she breathed her words out.
Hearing her confession, I felt weightless like a feather and however I listened carefully.
“ I’ve just taught you a lifetime long lesson, Derrick. The police is coming to arrest you for killing Mona Jackson, a lady you dumped into the sea on 27th last month.”
Dumbfounded, I couldn’t let out any word. All I managed to do was to let out a weak sigh, and I wondered whether all this time she wasn’t on vacation, but watching all over my whereabouts behind my back. I believed her and I couldn’t bother arguing, for I was done in and out like the floods clearing the bridge tunnels and above them.
“Jane I’m sorry, but I didn’t kill her. When I came back from work I found her dead on the floor!”
“It’s too late, Derrick. I’ve tried my best all this time I had been pretending not to know anything, wishing that you might tell me the truth. If you had co-operated, we could have kept this to us.”
“I didn’t kill the lady. Since you had been watching, I guess you know who did it!” I said, my chin cupped in my sweating hands. No teardrops came out of my eyes, even what to do either, and the police was on its way. She moved more closer again and I watched her adorable petite plain feet in the beach slippers I had bought for her last of last month as if she’s the only one.
“I killed her!” she said, and I was destructively alarmed. She went on:
“When she was sleeping, I came from outside where I had seen you and her driving inside here. If you had had seen a blue Nissan on the western yards. Well! That was I with it. I had borrowed it from Mpho, one of my friends whom I had left with mine. When you left, I got inside and found her diet coke in the fridge. Since I knew you don’t drink that, I poisoned it. Later she came and fetched it and that’s how she died. And all I told the police is that my friend discovered that you’re whoring behind my back and she called me just in time and I’ve followed you and came to know all about this tragic event. I framed you, Derrick, for being unfaithful with me. You ought to find an explanatory story, very soon, for soon they’re coming to pick you up!”
Yes! How smart and how effective was that! She had killed her and I had had no idea that really Jane could kill someone and frame it all for me to endure. God! I’m sorry, it’s my entire fault, but I can’t take the result, killing me right now is a good thing for me. Since Mona is still close and I would tell our story. I thought fighting tears back. I couldn’t believe she was now smiling and yet tears were flowing by her cheek.
“I’m sorry, Derrick, but I ought to let you know that we some women are not foolish as you men think. Anyway, tell me! What did Mona have that I don’t have, Derrick? Was I getting ugly or was I not sweet enough to you? I gave you all my heart, Derrick, and in return you shattered it all!” Now I was hardly twiddling with my hair as if to find an answer. Suddenly the intercom ringed in the kitchen. She looked at me the last time with a teasing like wink and went out without a word. I knew for sure that she had called the police.

Three bulky officers came inside towards me. Jane walking behind them with her triumphant look. Already, I knew that this was the end of my lecherous habits. A woman had stopped her man’s infidelities by killing his girlfriend and blamed it all to him. I thought if really I would be given my time to tell what had happened maybe, maybe I would manage to bring justice in this following trial, but nevertheless I wasn’t sure of that since Jane had got to be the first reporting this incident.
“Derrick Maxwell, you’re under arrest for the murder of Mona Jackson whom we found yesterday floating near the harbour shore. Your wife called to tell us about it this night through an email and latter on, she called due to our delays.”

After three weeks in the cold jail cell, Jane’s friend Mpho visited me by mid afternoon. A jail guard I had known all this time while was escorting her, Mpho had a spotted brown handbag familiar to the one Jane had always wanted to use and a newspaper between her armpits, she was dressed neat and sexy. Her high-heeled shoes were tapping the jail’s floor with a sound that made other jail mates to peer through the bars amazed. I believe some were wishing they had been home with their wives at home, but it was too late, like Jane had told me before. The only correction you need when you had done crime is beyond time, that is if time would brought up the same test again. I thought looking at her with the jail guard getting close and wished for a pen and a note book to write words that were prevailing against my mind. My hands were gripping on the iron cold bars my head peering through for a better look. I saw the guard directing her to my cell with a finger gesture and remained starring at her as she gained the little distance that was left.
“How are you doing Mr Maxwell” She greeted me with a sarcasm tone and didn’t shake my hand when I stretched it forward her. I let it drop and responded.
“I’m well as you can see, what brings you here?” she licked her lips slowly never mind the lipstick that I could see smeared on them.
“To visit! Don’t you need visitors?”
“Precisely” I said absently, focusing on the cell behind her, an old man was winking at me and I couldn’t figure out why?
“What do you mean by precisely, Derrick?” Hearing that, something forced me to turn up rude, I didn’t want anyone to interfere during this time. I just wanted to be alone and nothing else.
“Hey! Get lost and don’t you ever come back here or-or?”
“Or what! You son of a-bitch, wish you die in here” She paused, her face pale and promising to cry at any moment. “Read how you had ruined the lives of others.” She took the paper, threw it in my cell, and left in a flash. For a long time I hesitated to pick it up, and thought if I won’t then anyone else would. Whatever bad news the paper contents, let me have it at once and continue with my solitary life peace or no peace it was the same now.
As I set my eyes on the headline page my heart turned boiling as if in a blasting furnace, it’s only the headline and a couple of words mentioning Jane suicide and her confession of all that had happened. I staggered getting up from my small bed and went to throw the paper outside. And still the words were engraved in my mind in red blood capital letters, and I knew indeed that I had created a hell in my soul.

THE END!

Nkosi's life

2009-03-10T08:43:00.000-07:00

NKOSI'S LIFE
Short story by
Ephraim Leo Chaparadza

The train stopped and he looked through the train window and finally recognized that he had arrived in Cape Town with no hindrance since he was an illegal traveller. For the last time he viewed the photo on his lap, his mom and dad smiling, baby him cradled on their arms as if they were still alive and happy for him. A tear dropped from his left eye, a lady he had shared the trailer with, saw his pale sad face and approached him compassionately. She didn't say anything but just dropped a five rand coin over the photo and left to attend her kids. He wanted to follow her and say thanks, but something urged him to be seated a while. People were pulling their luggage by the passage making noise and outside some had managed to be out already. After a while he stood, fetched his dirt satchel, trying a pleasant smile on his face but it was to no avail, the boy was afraid, he felt the atmosphere unpleasant. By the moment he wished he didn't run away, but something told him what he had done was the right thing. The life he had had was terrible and better was the street and this far.
By the passage floor he bends, picked up a twenty-cent coin, and got outside the train, by the station paving, the boy looked both directions to see if there wasn't anyone suspicious of his dirt condition and then followed others to the exit where securities were checking the passenger's tickets.
Looking at them made his heart beat and he froze a while, there wasn't any easy way out, he had to take his chances and so he carried on. Slowly he walked to the far side of the wall shielding him within people with intention to gain his way unnoticed. When he was to make it out, suddenly a security out of the blue nudged him by the shoulder and suddenly he knew without turning back that he was caught.
"Where is the ticket young lad?" The security asked gripping his hand.
"I-I lost it in the train sir!" He said, with trembling lips and the security stared at him fixedly, with unbelieving contentious face; the boy lowered his head and felt his beating heart.
"Follow me, boy you’ve got some explanation to do and don't you dare run away!" He heard the security saying, letting go his arm. Just after two steps forward a man approached the security by his front and they both stopped.
"I can pay for him!" the man said producing out his fat wallet from his pocket.
"But sir" The man snapped him at once, "No buts, I said I can pay for him, do you have a heart and any idea of what he's going through? Look at him!"
Indeed the security looked and lowered his head as if shy.
"No--but-but"
"But it's your job right? But look at the young boy"
"Okay" he resigned to harden his heart and complied in.

When he was out from the railway station premises, the boy felt relieved at last and thought of the Good Samaritan that had paid for him.
Really people are not the same and for one to find out he/she has to be out here stranded and straying like him, he thought, and headed along a main narrow road, he had no idea where it was to led him, alongside a song was playing in his mind, he had quite a lot and music was what he wanted to do in his life, it was his call and he hoped that though he was to live in the street, somehow the dream would come true.
Humming his song gently, the road took him to the sea view; amazed with the far view of birds and water sloshing outside the barrier, he kept on walking until he got into the sandy shore where he went to seat by a rock, staring at the tides and squawking birds and amazed with daring suffers getting toppled here and there with waves and the song didn't go away, it was a sad one, coiling his mind and making him feel comfortable and that he wasn’t alone.

Had you a father, you could’ve have told a lot
Had you a mother, you could’ve cried a lot
Had you a sister, you could’ve teased a lot
Had you a girlfriend, you could’ve shared a lot
But you're not alo---ne, you're not alone in this way
You're not alo-ne; you're not alone in this world
You're not alone-you're, not alone and never been

As Long the birds flock on the sky
And the true spirit with us they share
Whether that passion of salvation and tribulation
But though whatever we conceive the universe to be
You and me the air we breathe is one
Never mind perennial as grass we might seem
The high power in control is manifested in us
What's yours and what's mine let both be love
And surely the cornerstone of truth can
Never be broken

Latter on, an old man approached him from behind with a loaf of bread and sat closer by his left, he had been listening all this while, though it was faint he actually had gripped what the song was about, sad little boy, he thought.
"Nice voice, you really can sing boy, you almost took me away, aren't you hungry?" the man asked, tearing the plastic paper to take the bread out. This startled the boy a bit, he couldn't get it, that someone from nowhere can just come and offer to share bread with a strange looking boy, yes of course he was hungry but he felt uncomfortable with this newcomer. He looked like he had never had a roof over his head for quite a long time. The man handed him half of the bread he had ripped apart with his bare hands; the boy accepted it with a dull smile, which the man noticed and saved his question for latter, probably after eating.
"What is your name? You look such a nice chap" At last the man asked after taking a bottle of water from his pocket to let the bread settle down.
"Nkosi Khumalo!" the boy pronounced, easy and slow,
Where are you from?"
"Jorburg"
"And why are you here, do you have someone with you or?" The man expression was so carrying concerned about the boy, and soon the boy felt secure a bit with this stranger.
"My mom, dad, all dead, my half sister, I used to leave with is so mean and because of that I decided to run away, she-she-she was so abusive to me and--and!" The boy whined and covered the tears on his face with his palm, there was more he wanted to let out but it was extremely unbearable and hard to let out, and after all it wasn’t wise to just tell a stranger the whole truth about your life, they had to get acquainted first.
"Don't cry, it's alright, just like me, from Soshanguve, 18 years ago is when I came in Cape Town to stay in the streets, due the situation at my home. I was 14 years old by then. The family I had was so crowded, I had cousins, nephews, nieces, brothers and sisters and my grandmother was the only one responsible for all of us. Some of the children had their parents who were prostitutes and thieves-whatever! The girls kept on loading more children in the hands of my grandmother. She tried to do her best but with her work, that paid nuts, it was impossible, she had always cried, I only wished I could help and still I do, I don't know if she's still alive."
The man paused a while staring over the sloshing water in the ocean and a couple of birds making shadow patches on the sea as they flap on air, the boy stayed quite knowing that the man was taking a break.
"Boy, I wanted to be of help over her burden but I had nothing, uneducated, no course, no-nothing at all and so seeing myself as another burden, I've decided to get rid of myself and that's how I've ended here. All over from there, boarding trains for free, sometimes getting caught, and when off the hands of law I kept on doing the same thing until I got here In Cape Town.
It was a dead end with the ocean we're seeing, I wanted to go far, but that I've tried as well to hide in the ships and sail in it, wherever it may reach. Three times I was caught and got deported back here" The men sighed, taking a relief; Nkosi could see that truly he was still troubled with his background and was telling the truth.

Seeing that the boy had finished his bread, the old man still with a large piece, he handed it over to the boy who shook his head, refusing, however, he asked for water.
"I'm alright now, thank you very much I was so hungry, only water is all I need now" the old man, handed him the bottle and went on narrating his story, making it clear for the little boy to understand.
"But you should bear this Nkosi, you might find the streets more painful than where you had came from, trust nobody! Don't get influenced for a lot is happening in street life that might take you life away, or harm you or ending up in jail. You're still young, so you've got all the time you need.”
The old man paused when he saw flocks of white birds flying, when they disappear by the corner of the sea barrier, he continued.
“Hope well and life will settle the better, however, don't worry you're not alone and you had never been alone? I understand, a young lad of your age might take time to understand this, but you'll always know when the right time comes. However, be grateful in whatever you conceive your life to be, there is high power amongst all of us and I bide you to know this power, when you know it say it and don’t cease to depend on it, keep saying it, at the end of the storm, you’ll be more like a god”
Suddenly, they both saw a big hump caused by the waves, rising in the ocean and it came sprinkling some drops of water on their feet and faces, some permeating through the cracks and joints within the rocks, Nkosi, felt something supernatural and deep inside it was hard to distinguish what it was and the rhythm of his recent song began playing faint in his soul as if the feeling he had just had had something to do with it.
The sun was passing its rays in the sea-ridged floor, forming twinkling glows of light that was so fascinating and a marvel to the sight.
"How old are you and how many years you've spent in the street?" The boy asked after a silent moment that they had shared amazed with the sea formation.
"Oh! I'm 32 years old now and it's now eighteen years staying in streets. At the first time I was so shy to peer through the bins for something to eat when I was hungry, even to beg for money. But well! I've got over that, just like the birds of the air is like the street child and him who made the birds surely he know that I'm worthy than merely birds. But I don't have a grudge with him, I mean not yet, maybe. As they say the world shall end, by that time I believe I shall have my own chance and ask why I lived in this world as if I was forgotten or as if I'm not part of it. I have so much to ask him, of course I believe in him being the God, the creator, the high power. Look! As He toss his waters in the sea and how he had established high the mountains, no doubt whoever He is, He's worthy than this universe for it is Him who made it. Boy I'm hopeless for I'm old, there's nothing left for me to do, but just live and wait for death to do the work it was meant for, I've done sins of course, but I had reasons, I had to survive son, I had to try in whichever was the way"
The boy felt his heart heavy and solid with what the old man had just told him, it was something deep and emotionally touching, he sighs, wanting to weep and gently said.
"I believe in him too!"
"Good, then, you're not far away from him and don't fuck up, listen to me for I had already and now I know, the outcomes of the road I took and so from my love for you, do not take this path, take the long way instead-bearing patience in whatever you want to achieve. Do not be startled when things are not working up for your satisfaction, life is a long journey it needs patience. You're talented young man; your song really had touched me the sea had witnesses you"
The old man fumbled in his pocket and produced a fat plastic paper, which he placed on his lap and from his sleeve pocket he produced a phone book paper, tearing it straight apart. Then began rolling something the colour of green crushed leaves, which the boy knew from guys in his location. It was the drug marijuana, he couldn't believe it, after all what the old man had told him. Smoking marijuana is considered as a sin and that's what startled the boy.
"You see what I'm doing boy. It's not like I like to do it, It's the only way that takes off my mind from all that is happening in this world, actually in my life, I know this is resisting the high power, but I ask mercy for my addiction-oh! Lord only leaves to smoke to-to-my mind!" the rest, he became speechless and waved his hand resigning.

From that day onwards, the boy and the old man's relationship became like that of a father and a son. They slept in the plant shrubs opposite a certain park after the sea and got most of their food through begging and rummaging in street bins, and they showered by cold showers down the sea barrier, sometimes swam when the weather was suitable. The old man had street friends whom the boy began to know, some days when the old man could go to attend to his business, which he didn't want the boy to get exposed to. He could leave after telling him to take a walk and warning him not to talk with anyone. He didn't want the boy to get hurt, sometimes he wondered that probably God had delivered this boy in his hands to take care of, probably this was the fulfilment of his dream of having a son, never mind not biological.
They had a place where they appointed to meet after they part, more often he taught the boy how to thrive in the streets without getting harmed and the boy was good at catching on things without difficulties, this made the old man to have more love and patience on keeping him safe.

One day it happened in the morning when the boy was alone, hungry and begging for some money and food. The old men had promised to be back when dawn, he had nothing except a 2 rand coin, which he left the boy with to raise the rest on his own. After hard hours of begging, a lady he met on the way to a place he had came to know, called Waterfront. She had two kids on both her hands, holding shopping plastic bags and a handbag across her shoulder, it reminds him of the one who had helped him on the train, only that this was a white lady. The boy approached her with his pale sunburned face, dry lips and stinking due the heart of hard walking, of course he made sure to wash everyday but at times couldn't keep up with the cold water, most times without soap, the walking he did every time and then, made perspiration function rapidly.

"Please mom, can you help me with anything to eat" He said intending to say something further but failed, he was still scared with this life of begging, though he had had much experience.
"Of course son!" the lady said, stopping with a welcoming impression,
"How much do you need?"
"Just enough to get even a half of bread, mom"
One of the kids she had, whispered to another, "He stinks like the dumb can you smell it?" Nkosi heard it and felt a pang then looked aside.
"Maria, don't you ever use that language towards someone's life, you go to church and God doesn't want a child like that" the lady scolded her daughter loud, producing 2oo rand and handed it to the boy, who clapped his hands slightly before he received it.
"Take care of yourself son; I'm sorry about what my daughter had said".
"It's alright mom, thank you very much, this really means a lot, and no one had ever given me such an amount of money." The girl, who had said mean words against him, she was now sobbing, Nkosi felt sorry for her.
"I'm so sorry" the girl said, weeping tears from her eyes,
"Take this!" she said giving him a KFC box that her mom had bought for her.
"It's all right sister, don't be hurt I forgive you" Nkosi said refusing.
"Please, receive it, that will make her feel better" The mother said and he received it and they bide one another farewell.

Latter on, when he was heading to a supermarket to get something to eat; he passed through an alley, which they used most times when he's with the old men.
By the middle of it, four street guys he had never seen came from a street that run across this alley, and they ran towards him, hearing their footsteps behind him, he thought to ran but it was to late they had already gained him.
"Give us the money, she gave you," the eldest said, grabbing him by the collar, the others behind him, in case he might try to ran away.
"I don't have any money," Nkosi said pretending innocently, breathing heavy and frightened,
"We saw her giving you some--boy don't lie to me" The one behind said, searching his pockets and felt the money protruding, he dipped his rough hands inside and took it, then kicked both his kneels, Nkosi, fall down and bumped his lips on the hard tar, he began bleeding and didn't cry. They even took the box he had and left in a hurry.
With a black eye, the upper lip red swollen and a bruised knee, Nkosi, headed to the spot where they met usually mostly evenings with the old man. Tears were still promising in his eyes, he promised himself not to tell the old men about this incident and couldn't just find explanations for his condition, and that was it, he was to tell. The old men would understand. After all he had never mistreated him, he acted like a real father, he thought, remembering the day he dropped a soap in the sea, it happened when they were washing, the old men just looked without being startled and smiled 'Careful, don't dive after it' he had said.

It surprised him to find out that the old men was already at the spot, he had never been so early like this, probably he had fallen unto something terrible like he had, thought the boy, staring at the man who was seated against a wall absently minded, smoke coming out of his nostrils as if from two mouthed caves. Against his left thigh there was a large bag and it looked new and protected.
He didn't see the boy approaching or heard his footsteps, though few people were passing by heading to their God knows whereabouts. Nkosi thought to pass over him and came back later and so he did, when he was a little distance away, the man called behind him.
"Nkosi, can't you see?" The boy turned back and walked towards him,
"I didn't" he said coming close, his head bended aside so that the men couldn't see his black eye, but it was to no avail, the men must had seen even the way he was walking it had some difficulty and he asked.
"What have you gotten into boy, don't be afraid not to me"
"Let's go and seat!" Nkosi insisted and they went to seat on a quite place, between two flats, the other totally in mess and deserted, rats rattling around and cats preying within.
"So?" The men said after they had seated for a while, referring to his condition,
"A lady gave me 2oo rand, I didn't know that I was being watched with a bunch of guys, when I was going to get me something to eat that's when they appeared and beat me up, then frisked all the money out"
Both of them knew that 200 rand was a lot of money, especially for a street person. Since, they had never managed to raise such an amount, even begging hand in hand, the old man didn't look surprised at all, all he just managed to do is sighed and told the boy that it was okay and glad that he was alive and unconscious, it's life that matters, rather some money or materials.
"No it's not okay!" Nkosi, protested almost raging out, this made the man to raise his head looking at him, since they began to leave together Nkosi, had never spoken in such a manner like this and he understood that the boy was in pain.
"If I had a knife, a gun, I could have killed one of them; I just don't understand why some people should want to do this to others as if it would suit them if one does the same to them. Took my money and on top of that beat the shit out of me" He paused, panting heavy as if he had just survived a gunshot.
"Wish I had a gun, wish, just a gun, we must find guns for us that's the only way we can be able to survive these streets. I'll get one, so help me God, my---my!" he broke down and began weeping.
The old men came closer to him and embraced him across the shoulder,
"Talking about guns, boy, do you know anything about guns? Now let it go, you weren't to make a fortune out of 200 bucks-let it go, even them it's not like there are to be some rich filthy ass, by now, guess all of it had been spend, drugs and shit!" he paused,
"I've got you something, close your eyes, you're gonna like this a lot"
Nkosi, closed his eyes and when the old man told him to open, there, a stereo tape recorder radio,
"Whoa, that's so thoughtful of you, thank you" he said surprised and took the radio on his hand turning it both side, it was brandy new, just a thing he had always desired for, now he would sing recording, adjusting each and every word until the rhythm flow irrelevant.
He had a spot he always went to when the old man isn't with him, it was quite and peacefully and there he was to compose his songs and also he wanted a notebook, since he had the less better writing skills and the old man was to help him, since he had seen him with a newspaper quite a time.

When they were all seated and suited with the calm atmosphere around them, he said,
"Look Nkosi? I want you to be honest with me, that you would never tell anyone of what I'm about to tell you!" he paused with intention to talk again but immediately the boy spoke,
"You can trust me with anything, you've done quite a lot for me that I won't manage to pay back"
The old men coughed and spate aside, Nkosi knew it was the hazard of smoking, a street men walked past them, long grey dreadlocks tied with a rubber band behind his head, and a cardboard box pinned between his armpit, a large plastic bag on the other hand. Shame! The old man thought, street people do have some kind of life.
When the old men began the rest of what he had intended, Nkosi, paid attention at him.
"Nkosi! Together we've been in these streets for long!" The man stopped, looking high up the sky as if asking God if he should carry on or not, this made Nkosi's heart ache, the men was serious, pale and his mind afar, was he now leaving him, he thought and swallowed hard.
"Will you come with me where I'm going Nkosi, I've got something that is going to change our lives and I need you, just like I had needed you at the start, you're like a son to me"
It was total a relief for Nkosi, hearing that and excitedly he answered,
"Yes-yes, I'll go anyway with you!"
The old men picked up the bag and placed it on his lap, and then swiftly, he zipped it open and looked around, making sure that there wasn't anyone noticing what he was doing, he said.
"On what I was doing" He produced a large plastic paper stacked with a white powder in it, when he saw that the boy had seen it he placed it back.
"These are drugs, worthy a fortune, I was given them with one of the guys I work with, he meant me to look for a rich client who can buy them. But, I've changed my mind on the way here. The idea is, I should take them somewhere else far from here and find another client. With the lot, we can start a legal business of our own"
"You're betraying your friend?" Nkosi, asked frightened,
"Yes, that I am, there are reasons for this and I don't think you need to know, so are you in or--?" he looked at the boy and felt hurt, the boy was always innocent with a dear tender heart and it made him felt guilt to involve him in this. Though on the other hand, he knew this had to do with both of them, a good life at last, he only wished for his plan to work quickly that the boy won't live insecure and they would go to Port Elizabeth or Durban, far from the enemies he was to create in this.

The next morning, when he had left Nkosi, alone, he went to see a couple of people before they fled. Nkosi met a lady he had known a month ago and did not tell the old man about her. Janet was the lady; she had bought her ice creams a couple of times and talked with him, drawing most of the things he was going through especially including the old man.
It surprised Nkosi, how much she asked about how good was he to him, does he feel loved, secured and trustworthy with him, it sort had almost lead him to think that this lady had something going on with his old man, perhaps love or something not yet known. More he had tried to figure out and got stuck and the thing was Janet had claimed that he doesn't know him and the interesting thing, why did she kept on asking about his old man.

The day, he told her that him and the old man were moving away and didn't include the old man’s reasons. At almost dawn they met at the usually spot, he had bought him nice food, a pair of shoes and clothes, the stuff to wear when they were to go, things didn't worked out well and the old man extended their days with two more, he desperately had to see someone before he go, whom and why this he couldn't tell the boy.
The next day, the old man went absent for few hours and he came back happy than he was the last day, he must had seen the one he wanted to Nkosi, thought.
The rest of the day they spend it together by the beach, the old man sleeping probably dreaming of his plans.
The following morning they waked up late, an hour and a couple of minutes from what they had planed, they took their stuff and headed to the showers by the shoe, it was almost ten and the heat was tense. The shower did them good and felt agile enough to lead on. On the way to fetch a bag that the old man had hidden through shrubs opposite the old building they more often seat when tired of the beach. He told Nkosi, the train tickets he had bought for them, Nkosi, smiled in appreciation and thanked God that the first day he had arrived is when he had found such a nice person.
They made their way through an alley opposite the one he had been mugged and came close to the building view, as it was a weekday, people were few.
He stopped Nkosi nearby as he rushed to take the bag and to his amazement it wasn't there, someone had taken it, he stood looking at the boy completely hurt, Nkosi stared back and saw the shocking impression on his face and knew why, then walked towards him.
"It's gone-Jesus, how come you-you've," he stopped surprised at the disaster behind Nkosi, the crew had find him and it wasn't in the nick of time, they must have been spying him all this time long, he knew what was to come.
Three guys, two looking identical in their age and the one older than them both and the bitch as well, the one who was holding his bag containing the stuff, he knew them at once and felt weak to the belly.
"Well-well-well son of an old bitch, is this what I get by entrusting you with something"
Nkosi turned back and saw this familiar lady,
"Janet-Janet" he almost screamed, Janet didn't respond she looked aside as if disgusted.
"Maxwell, I said is this how you've treated me?" he came close to the old man, his left hand jammed in the coat pocket he wore and touched him by the shoulder.
"I can explain, Derek, it's not what you think"
"What do I think, are you trying to play God?" he asked looking fixed on his eyes; nevertheless the old man didn't resist his staring remark.
"We have to do it quick Derek" another guy behind them said,
"Janet, bring me, bag" Janet came besides them and handed over the bag.
"Now, how do you explain this" he produced two tickets from the bag,
"Running away from me, Maxiii-fuck you"
Derek quickly removed his hand from the pocket and plunged it through the old mans belly, he groans and fall down, blood spraying out.
Quickly Janet, rushed over to the dead body and spreads a plastic sheet over it.
The moment, Nkosi saw it, he run over the old man screaming, but this other fellow had already noticed it, he grabbed him by the collarbone and pulled him back his other hand gagging his mouth not to scream, he convulsed trying to free himself but the hands gripping him had more strength.
Derek came towards him,
"Boy, I want you to listen, as soon as that guy frees his hands, no screaming, I want you to run away and never come here-right?"
Nkosi, kept his mouth shut, he gripped him by his chin adjusting his face to his, and "Boy what did I say?"
Nkosi, shock his head.
When they free him, he run as told and meets a speeding car on his way coming to fetch the crew.

The next day, Nkosi, waked up at almost mid-afternoon, actually he heard one of his tape recorded song being played and knew that someone had taken it from his pocket whilst still asleep; he had slept at the park’s lawn and felt nothing, cold or the dew that was still wetting parts of his clothes.
He wanted to report the event of yesterday, but had felt weak and sleepiness had got him somehow unexpected.
When he turned the other side where his song was playing, he saw a familiar face, the guy he usually had seen running around the beach with his dog exercising and the earphones pinned in his ears. Once, this fellow had smiled at him when he had crossed by and seen him with his earphones and hamming. Nkosi had smiled back and hesitated to stop him to ask for a little money for something to eat.
A bit shivering he rose from the lawn, eyes bleary and looking very weak and realised that the white dude had someone with him, a woman not quite old, blue eyes that touched Nkosi that she was compassionate kind or it was his sad song that made her express a pitiful remark.
“I know you,” the white guy said taking off his jacket and covering the boy.
“What’s you name, little musician?” The woman asked,
“Nkosi Khumalo”
“Do you have home, you seem not to have a roof over your head and care from anyone, come, and we’ll get you sorted”
Nkosi looked everywhere wondering if really his life was about to change, or this was just imagination or hope for something from these people.
He felt, the sensation running through his cold veins, the sensation he had felt the day he met the old man and his touching words came,
‘Hope well and life will settle the better, however, don't worry you're not alone and you had never been alone? I understand, a young lad of your age might take time to understand this, but you'll always know when the right time comes and when you know, do not doubt, it might slip away. However, be grateful in whatever you conceive your life to be, there is high power amongst all of us and I bide you to know this power, when you know it say it and don’t stop to depend on it, at the end of the storm, you'll be more like a god.’

And he couldn’t believe it, was the right time mentioned with the old man now, he thought and believed right at once, not only because the old man had told him not to doubt, but also the sensation of the day with him was another witness.

THE END

Who killed Kelsey? The couple, kids or the groundman

2009-03-10T08:10:00.000-07:00

WHO KILLED KELSEY
THE COUPLE, KIDS OR
THE GROUNDMAN?
By Ephraim Leo Chaparadza

1

“It wasn’t---------!”
The loud voice echoed irritably filling the eardrums of them both; he looked at her fixedly, unbelieving, as if trying to draw the truth out of her eyes, which were blinking sparkling with crystal tears, totally in rage she seemed afraid of what she had started and looking in his eyes seemed like the first time., nevertheless she tried very hard to return the same kind of stare, but couldn’t, hers were wetting making them difficult to blink due bitter tears. A thicker expression of anger palled his face white, forming ridges on his forehead, showing the protruding of his skull, and she knew he was vicious angry for the fourth time since they moved together.
It was now bad, bad news, she thought, and wished if it could be necessary for the universe to cast a great tremor on the house and part it in two parts then swallow her completely between the halves, deep underground in the bowels of earth, and there for the rest of her life to be grounded.
That would be better, off the beast staring at her, the world was bad, full of bad news and bad news is because of people, and a great bunch of them filled with hatred without compassion for defenceless souls. People with low love that seeketh only self to please, bind another to their delight, joys in another loss of ease and builds a hell in heaven despite.
She knew now he was the other element that resemble the last stanza of William Blake, poem (The clod and the pebble) now she couldn’t stand it anymore, it was enough, a desire of change had been long tickling within her, to go somewhere different, heavenly peacefully secluded.
Probably an Iceland never discovered with fantasy filled with harmony, but that was a fairy tale fantasy, something stupid to think of, bookish and unreality, every time she had reads some books, imagine or dream of such an awesome glamour to cherish on such stuff. Surely the world had never been a better place and it would never be. Everywhere where one would think of going, a being is there, even if one would be a hermit bug ups would always come. A being what a piece of work roaming on all planets and space that holds them and him who made them nobody can define him completely, he is damn more of a God.
At last she had finally managed to confront him heatedly with the truth she had gathered behind his back, the truth without Vale, the expression on his face changed reflecting a deep truculent of a threat, still remorse coiled, damn! She thought if this could not be done now the consequences would strike on her mind like a vivid thrown boomerang, why worry anyway when she had already started it.

A mean fiendish man he had lived like all the past years he had weathered, some of his friends had had enough leading to his abandonment, the same with their relatives were not even comfortable to visit them or make affairs with them, he was paranoid, cynical Hitlish, natured, and thank God he wasn’t in politics.
“What did you just say Edith?” He threatened, lips trembling.
“I said it wasn’t; what you said to me was a lie, now I know everything and that you can not change!” She boomed tremendous, the echo again filled the whole room, sharing with others attached to it. It was her first time to talk so violent like this since they moved in, all this time gone; she had remained quite being polite, in fact from girlhood drifting away from aggressive people as if she was dumb with sharp eyes to hear and could not quarrel back, it was for the sake of her peace. She had leant a lesson and now it was high time, they wasn’t no need to get addicted to her way back qualities, it’s good to be a little hush and hard at times in life, that way people can fear you and won’t take advantage. A human with all the freedom to live on just like everyone, yes and no to fear, she was going to say more and whatever would turn on, she was ready to duck, she knew him to be an absolutely absurd man and all she was now doing affecting him, he really deserves it.

“You lied to me Marshal, you used to call me a whole whore—W—W, now I guess it’s clear for you to fit in those initials, damn admit it!” crossly she shouted and paused clearing her throat to make the words come clear and frightening.
“That perfume that was smelting on the covers, remember? It was hers, you slept with Barbra, quite a lot, and made it all up that you wanted to surprise me with the smell. I knew it, suspected it, I ain’t fool Marshal, only fear for you blocked me from saying how I felt,” she produced tissues from her breast pocket and blew; tears were pouring from her sockets.
“You don’t have love Marshal, only taking advantage of other people because you’ve got money, how many times had you beats me up, abused, harassed and molested me, satisfying your greedy evil desires. It’s over with me, I’m moving out for good!”
She said with a strong tense and stood from the lounge wooden furnished chair, they were seated Marshal, over the other side of the table, his face slacked off from the angry mood now paled with surprise and stayed dump for a while, the truth had succeeded to hits the very fragile flesh and he was fighting to breath.
The morning tea they had been drinking was getting cold, her cup untouched, it was this tea that she had taken advantage of to bring up this issue, when she had served the tea, she had just sat cupping her chin on her palm pondering her issues with Marshal, seeing that she wasn’t drinking, he seriously asked if she might had poisoned his tea, why should I? She had responded and he said, because you hate me. That’s when she had finds her way, ‘Yes I hate you because you had never treated me fairly, I was like your slave in spite of being your wife. You knew that I hate you and for that reason you were afraid that I might kill you, isn’t it?’ quite well and quite had been said, the issue had carried on.

“Look? Edith, I can explain, sit down and give me sometimes, it isn’t all in the way you’re putting it like, and its all had been exaggerated with those who had fed it to you, Sit please!” he pleaded, she had already made three paces ahead, he quickly stood and dashed to obstruct her way further, now faced again he said.
“Why are you doing this to me, if I had ever said sorry before, it was fake, but now I do really mean it, please accept my apologies? I know I had hurts you so much and I can’t take it back. Edith, it hurts me as well, I mean me to be I, don’t create this wound in me it won’t go away no doctor can heal but only you who made it ” she meant to say something, but it was to late he snapped. “I can tell the truth, the rest you have heard are just lies, last chance, please!’’
He hardly tried to draw tears to enable to draw compassion from her, but it was to no avail, the girl was affective this time, she had meant it and for good.
“It’s too late Marshal, spare your words, you messed in the dish you eat and puked on everyday, like an animal, now I can’t let that keep on happening, I can feel like how you’re feeling now. No---! I can’t let you; move off, my way---!”
She swirled trying on the other direction and the so called monster couldn’t let her, and
Indeed she was worthy for a fight, he jerked on her front again and got down on his
Knees then clasped his hands together as if to pray.
Now she avoided looking on his eyes directly, she knew that could urge her to cry more,
Marshal, was a player of a lot, he would absolutely make her cry, he was a dramatic
player who chooses his words with exteriority, an impression that can make one fall in
his trap like magic. It all was a part of his talents and the way he uses his gifts was
totally ridiculous, she had learned that all these days, and waited for a chance to cross
his damned line at once, this was the time, son of a bitch, she thought.
Unsure of what he was to say next, he first looked at her smooth down tilted head, a slightly steeply forehead with brown stylized hair, her face was young and gorgeous showing dimples that were very heart taking attractive, the nose moderately pointed and short, and thick oily smooth lips. Her light blue eyes and trimmed slanting eyebrows, was another addition, the head fitted her body completely, and that’s why yes and yes it hurts for Marshal, to loose such a girl.
“I’ve got enemies Edith, I thought you knew that, now I see, they’re breaking us apart, can’t you get a picture of that? We’ve got to be strong, stick together like glue, I’m your shield Edi, every spear I stand as one, that you won’t get harmed and my wound you would nurse. That’s the realm of true love, isn’t it?” He paused pulling her guts up and coming closer to her on his knees, she paced back, the monster was now coming with his stupid womanising curtsy’s, hell with it, she thought.
“ I love you with all my heart, oh! I swear by Virgin Mary, and her sacred womb which had bought a holly saviour on this earth. Come my love, my love for you can dilute all the seas and sources that pours on them and still It remain sweet, you my love-- my worthy, please I plead, do come back!” A tear dropped on his cheek, he was making her uncomfortable, but still she forced a laugh, it sounded more like a chuckle.
“Good try Marshal I’m not a fool, If you had got into acting, John Depp, could have lost his honour already by now, you’re amazing, I bate you try acting. Look I’m the one who is strong here! Marsh, I survived from your humiliations and infidelities.
“You are travelling in perils Mash! You’re riding the wheels of sins, too fast and careless; I warn you, stop it, the results always come the other way around. I’m sorry but not sorry, all that you said is just a bunch of bullshit, to hell with every single word you had said, fuck----- you Marshal!” She was irritating, too cross.
She knew he was starting his old game, a bit poetic, trying to fish her with yummy words; it wasn’t time to tolerate on that, she meant to get ride of all these bullshit right now and move away, straight to her Aunt Norah’s, place in Cape Town, and the ocean there would clear her mind, maybe a bit or completely. She liked splashing on that salt water and swim on it, picking the shells like she used to do during the holidays when she was twelve and had paid her a visit, Aunt Norah with her jokes and stories, cool! It was going to be a good time over there.
At last it was over and she was more than glad, ‘Bit the shit out of the truth and life goes on without much regrets and pain’, Norah had once told her and this is what she had just done.
He stood still looking at her, wandering if he had really lost it, she brushed her shoulder by him and haste her way to the bedroom door to pack her money bought with stuff and leave. When she got hold of the handle, she looked back, he was still standing idle exactly where she had just left him, “Got you son of a bitch!”, At last, she made it and saw his eyes blank and almost confused.
“Sorry I think I’m doing the right thing for my own good, we are all beings Marsh! I had expected you to treat me as one, but never had you! Now you can sneak in with your girlfriends any time, good for you Marshal, you’re free—congratulations!”
She looked in his eyes now totally not scared at all and again said,
“About your underground drug dealing, if I could think for the good of law, I would put that case to the police, so if you know what’s good for you, don’t you bother me, I need to live with people with human qualities now, people who care! —Good luck!”
The sound she gave to her last words where mockingly and touchy to him somehow, even though they were nice, this made him to feel like a word biggest loser, she opened the door, inside; she began to pack her stuff.

When she got out lugging her leather two black suitcases, a handbag across the left shoulder down to the half naked thigh, the miniskirt was too short, she probably had meant for this fellow to see that he didn’t take anything and man are still to be attracted. In adorable steps, she headed to the kitchen door, living him at his spot, hardly, she let one of the cases stamp on the floor, to use the other hand for the door. Then suddenly heard his heavy footsteps marching towards her, he grabbed the luggage on the floor as if retrieving it, showing and pretending to be pitiful he cried.
“No! Edith, don’t do this to me, we can settle this without hurting one another, can’t believe this! You’re making a mistake!”
“A mistake, ugh! You’re mad”
Trickles of tears flowed down his cheek and whatever he was feeling she knew it was a trick penitent and was wasting his time, they wasn’t no turning back. Delicately she placed her petite hand on the waist and faced him, now finally.
Seeing his tears made her angrier, it made her feel foolish somehow, with that anger coiling, suddenly she slapped enormous on his cheek, since he wasn’t aware of that he fall down,
“All you had bought for me I left it on the bed, if you want to make sure, I can open both cases, here!” She threw the one on her hand over him.
He rose and grabbed it, his black rumbled hair showing the fringe hanging on the forehead; she had cut it for him two weeks ago because he wanted it so. They were all speechless for a while.
“It doesn’t matter I can buy some, do whatever you want with the rest of my stuff—Mr Nonesuch!’’ She tilts the knob, got out and left with one of her case, had saved herself at last. She sighed a relief heading to her car and the sound of her Citroen was the last for him, poor little Edith, had left her man for doing her wrong.

2
That’s how they got separated and the worst terrible thing in his life, this even had created scars of memories which were going to trouble him emotional. As he knew, Edith, was a good girl of morals and it was a mistake or unlucky to have Marshal, as a husband, she surely was a blessing for any man who would marry her latter.
Unlike Marsh full of hatred and selfishness, he deserved the consequences worst than these he had early had, it was plain white all was his fault.
He had cheated her many times covering it all up with liars, somehow she had been aware of that and couldn’t bother but just waited for the time. The other day when she had asked him about his going outs at almost midnight, severe beatings had broke, she had scars on her body some she had forgotten how they came. They were painful days of him molesting her, even if she could insist that she was sick and doesn’t need any romance that was to no avail, he had treated her like a prisoner rather a wife, tears sprouting with the smell of whiskey above her, impaling his manhood, her feeling like some squeaky jumping castle and that was far more a rape. Yes! And no doubt everything was a force she had been a toy, though she had known all these oppressions could make him get charged on one of the high degrees of law, quite, she remained.
It would stop, she had thought many times following her aunt’s other saying (some men are shaky at the first time of marriage; they would be settled by the present of kids). Those words were dull probably works for others not her, and that’s why she had prevented pregnancy with the after morning drugs, kids would be a great obstacle when it calls for divorce.
Another thing he knew about herself, was her being an orphan with few poor relatives, a brother she had never seen for years and other relatives who were struggling also with their families, he must had taken that as an advantage to make her life so complicated thinking that no one can accept her. He had plentiful of money, sufficient enough to throw to anything, easily he could just get it like plucking leaves from a tree or collects like sea shells. His car selling company was firmly progressing, drug selling on the other hand was contributing, and he didn’t give a damn about who’s who?
And one thing for sure he get so pieced up with all of a sudden, is whoever is trying to sneak his/ her pet nose in his business, and no one tells him of how bad he is.
Who the hell can you be? By the end of the day, that burger or whatever you ate could be enough on this earth, you’re a gonna! His guys would make sure of that once ordered, they were all well paid and wonder why they do their work serious in secret. And how did Edith, finds out about his drug dealing? He trusted his guys and they trusted him as well, they were three genius operators.
Derek, was the heavy duty one who makes sure that all the work was done accurate without what they call bullshits or fuck ups, Thomas, the driver, as crew they knew him as the son of a bitch due to his lust habits, no charming girl can cross over his face without him responding and Philemon, the muscular one who secure all the security services when they’re on the game. Marshall only gave orders and makes sure that all needs are available and communicate with clients.

And damn right he was sure to find out who it was with a big mouth that had made Edith, knew about what he had never wanted her to know. If he won’t God! Father of Mercy Messiah, Edith, would be on the run. Anyway, that’s what she had known, not that there are six dead bodies thrown in the blast furnace of his friend Drubber, who’ve got his own companies from running illegal and blood trades, yeah! Sleeping around and drug dealing is all she had known, luck let him die first and that would spare her, Marshal the nonesuch, the man with rolling money machine, no!
All these past days Edith, had hesitated to just run away whilst he could be at work, but something urged her to stay calm and plan for this vicious confrontation and whatever was that something, it was good! She knew his enormous amount of money was what goaded him; it was his pride and his authority, his bowel and arrow, his spear, his gun and merely his army. Drugs took a little amount and bought it back enlarged in profits and everything was just flowing the way he had always wanted.
Finally she had realised what he thinks, that she hasn’t anyone to rely on, yes! She had wandered in truth, money was his security and she had known that what goes around swinging like some sissy bitch always comes around.
Poor little baby Edith, had moved out leaving most of her hard earned materials now serving his house, and never mind God knows the ups and downs.
She had been working as an accountant at Jet clothes shop; Marshal had looked for the job after she had asked to work at his car selling company and refused. By the time she couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t placed her at his own work place, when she saw the work at Jet enchanting her proudly and paying good, she didn’t ever dared to ask why? Acknowledging her determination and skills at the work, the company was about to promote her, that’s when she requested for documents to swap her work to Cape Town, and the bug to face Marshal was effectively frisk. On the other hand she was studying law, working it all out at night, good Lord, some people heads are small, but contains a lot.
Because of her fairness beauty man at work had been since detouring on her proposing for dates, she had never dared for one, not by that time she had business to do, and anyway she knew that one of these days, luck one would come and pluck her up, married and have kids maybe brighter than she is, she had quite awesome dreams you know and she was climbing up the steps.

3

He yawned, then sighed still on bed, lips stretched like rubber and legs and hands were undercover stretching the weak morning muscles, then he groaned being taken away with the soft comfortable duvet. He felt his long feet protruding tightly pinning the covers not to let the cold in, again he yawned and muttered something childish which seemed to be an incantation of some sort, by then he shoved the hand out checking how cold it was, no! It wasn’t the right time to get off the bed, it was cold a little like the inside of a morgue, the room had always stayed warm one of the windows must be open. He didn’t check it out yesterday for he was in a state.
Thinking of a morgue, he had never been in one accept once, the rest about it he had seen it on movies and read it from comics magazines and novels when young, they kept frozen corpse in deep refrigerators to prevent them from decaying, and when you close your eyes resisting to see the corpse, you can see it there in the darkness of your eyes spreading its arms, teeth tightly hanging out and ready to—to-to, his grandfather had almost freaked him, he used to own one when he was still alive, his grandfather used to live in Durban, and Marshal, age was six and a half.
A pseudonym that forks who used to play with him had given him was Danny Macho, in favour of that name he latter changed his birth name to that; he had worked as a post-mortem his entire life. When Marsh and his mother visited him one of those days and were escorted in the mortuary, after he had had a fight with his mom when she had forbidden him to come inside, that how his pap had came up with the idea to freak him up. The smell of chemicals almost had choked him and the coldness within was hush, from then onwards he had never touched old Danny’s hands and had never wanted to be close to dead bodies, when Danny, died he was glad.
Very interesting, the poor lad who used to hate to see dead bodies had became a killer, it’s the wonder of growing up, there are things you drop off obtaining qualities of adulthood, but on this case it was his ego and vanity, one shouldn’t do what he know he shouldn’t do for we are all measured.

Suddenly he jerked off the soft warm cover and hesitated a while due to weakness crawling in his flesh, then suddenly he threw his legs down on the floor resigning.
Coldness started to ooze within his warm flesh, trying the blood, but the warm blood was in motion fighting back.
Immediately, something woollen startled him by the feet, then he bends to see what it was, and the event of yesterday stirred into memory, that made a flinch in his belly and a belch followed, he scrambled the woollen jersey under the bed, then re-realised the mess he had done yesterday. On the other side of the bed clothes scattered as if a burglar had broke in, Edith, clothes he had cast all over in rage, rummaging through all the drawers where she used to keep her stuff.
Things had gone so fast yesterday, memories were extremely coiling, he ought to seek out a plan and end this whirling subject from his head, less this drives him nuts.
To obliterate all her stuff was the only alternative he had yielded, he was absolutely sure that this would work and he had to call Barbra to do it, yes Barbara with all this but he knew he was the basic source of this, the main causer. They wasn’t no turning back, milk lost is milk wasted, even though the pot wasn’t good enough to store the milk.

Marshals, and Barbra, were long time and big time buddies since high school days and there was an affair between them that had never been known with their spouses.
Barbra liked his funny sense of humour especially when they’re both drunk and he loved Barbra than Edith never mind her beauty could be doubled in comparison to Edith’s, but that didn’t matter to him, in Barbra there was something attractive, something intangible but felt every moment with her after all they shared deep dark secrets which is another reason why they were inseparable.
Their romance had never crossed their minds that both of them were sacred properties
Of other persons, whether it crossed their minds, it wasn’t something to be frightened of, whether people would find out and walk spreading rumour—infidelity—infidelity—hell crap is that, Marshal used to say. It isn’t an odd thing to secretly share a woman with someone else, it didn’t start with him and it wouldn’t be ended with him, somehow someone had slipped from the rule and found it funny and many followed him the same slip. This is the only chance when one is on earth, they won’t be this when you’re a gonna in heaven or hell, you ought to do what your mind picks on, on earth.
That’s what Marshal thought, he didn’t know what lies on the other side of life, actually Edith was one of the people who explore both sides and find which is one exactly to rely on, for example if someone, hits the rock and keep on hitting the rock again and again, not even getting harmed, well! They is a day, when the rock will hit back, and when it hits, it hits the very spot where it hurts.
So this was the dude with his money, his money wasn’t against him though most was being gotten by illegal means, so long he was doing anything he pleases with it, it wasn’t not a nightmare, but a dream that had came true.

4
Marshal wasn’t to use his bedroom until it was cleaned of Edith’s remains, he seemed to felt it haunting as if Edith, was dead or otherwise it was just because of his failure to retrieve her back, he felt the plunge of failure and weakness every time he viewed this room.
From his bed he went straight to the bathroom toilet where he took a leak and came back by the mirror contemplating on his face while he washes the morning remains of sleepiness. Sluggishly, he pulled the chair aside and sat staring at his flute tipped nose, flat cheeks and the adorable blonde hair. He could had fitted well to be called handsome if it wasn’t because of the structure of his head, that was a bit round leaving it with a disfigured shape, however he had a nice tempting voice that could make one wrongly perceive that he was a good man, and this was the one that had failed Edith when she was proposed.
Quickly, Marshal, finished his routine wash-up and headed to the kitchen to get him something to eat since he hadn’t eaten anything since she had left. He tried to let go the stress enveloping his mind and find it hard, whisky! He thought and took a glass from the lounge shelf on his way inside.
He arranged the food on the table, placed his bottle close and sat, swigging the last of his coffee he had began to drink whilst he was warming the food, when all was gone, he placed the cup down to see that it was his birthday cup, written –Leo, 15 August 1982, his star, And the absurd thing was Edith was the one who had bought it for him.
Edith, it was still coming back, striking hard the very flesh and he knew that the whole house wasn’t to make it easy for him; she had left quite a lot of her stuff.
Now he thought of all the things that he depended on and how they had failed him, his money hadn’t played any part or perhaps it had only retarded/reprieved her, otherwise she could had gone already, anyway it was just a thought, his thought, Marshal was wondering, he needed to know, but the reason was clear, he was so abusive.
He thought of the day he spate a mouthful of vodka on her face and she almost had lost her sight and the other day he threw a hot potato impaled on the spikes of a fork, it had swatted her cheek and got scalded by now the scar was still there.
‘What—you whole whore; you want me to eat this tasteless shit, ha? If you got no skills of cooking why didn’t you order something? Haven’t I gave you the money this month’
That’s when the swat came, and she only had screamed and fled to lock herself in the bathroom hoping that he’ll calm down soon and that’s where she had slept to be awakened the next morning with his hard knocks and apologizing in vain. She knew and only opened it because of fear, for if she didn’t opened it, he could had broke open the damn door and beat her some more, when she opened it, he proposed for sex and she let him, with tears running on her face.
One thing for sure his money had embellished her thoroughly, he was the one who had got a nice profitable work for her where she was extended to a higher position due her natural skills and favors, he once had thought she had abandoned him because of the greater work that she now possessed but he re-realized his ill-treatments. Edith was bright and easy to catch up with anything she’s taught, she believes that being modest and humble is the alternative to achieve a dream and also a security in life.
Maybe without him or with him she could have achieved the same she now have or could had done more. Besides being a second managing director of a supermarket called Jet, on the other hand she was writing books and was coming good with them, and soon enough she was sure she was to be filth rich and that was going to be a disaster to Marshal, he wasn’t to like that.
Just some merely girl who had crossed over his hands and had bedded to be something so huge than he, nah! That would be a defeat, if only it was him who had kicked her out he could had felt better, not this—not this that had just happened, it was indeed a defeat and hard to carry along, something must be done.
A rich man’s life ought to be working right according to his will; his money would positively settle everything out, he was sure and counting on it as his gods.

Reluctantly, he helped himself to a piece of spicy tomato pizza, nibbling it bit by bit,--tasting good it was, then he got a bigger bite and munched and munched, chewing the way a cow chews the cud. After having most of his food, he belched and wiped his mouth with a cloth which he then mistakenly tossed on the floor, then for the whisky.
After two half glasses of dry whisky, he stood, feeling the alcohol taking its purpose vividly, he almost staggered if it wasn’t of his hand that was on the table, he puffed and did it again, not a big deal, he was all alone, now it was time to make the phone call.
He passed the house plant she had bought and the small table between the lounge coaches, the land phone was just at the corner where the hearth was, it was Edith’s idea for this hearth to be put in, never mind bitch! He thought and picked up the receiver, dialing the number.

5
The phone ringed on the other end and no one picked it up, the caller didn’t quite, it kept on ringing, with a click after a while at last someone picked it up.
The hello! From him was a faint sick muffle, as if sparing his voice for more to say,, they was a deep silence for a while in the live wire, not managing to bear this silence for long he tried again, now a bit louder than the first time.
“Hello!”
“Are you sick nuts or something? What’s this new thing you’re trying on me today, Marshal?” a female voice responded with a chuckle.
“Today that will go without saying, I’m in a state, and I’ve got a big painful issue and I really need you baby, so bad I need you”
“What’s up?”
“Nothing-I mean nothing is up, everything is down crushed on me, I want to be up baby, I want you to pull me up. Can I met you in privacy somewhere else, you can pick a spot and I’ll be there soon or you can come here if you don’t mind”
“Now?” she quickly asked,
“Yes-yes now” he snapped in,
“No, Marsh, my husband is here today on any condition I’m sorry I can’t make it, he’s just taking a shower now and I don’t want him to suspect anything, speak quickly please-please”
Barbra pleaded, her eyes fixed to the bathroom entrance.
They was a bit of soundless for a while, she knew why and just waited,
“Barbra, you’re not being fair, can’t you just tell him that you’re going to see a friend sick or something, you know I always help you at any time, so now for my turn?”
The same soundless took place, here they weren’t looking at each other to see the practical serious of the other, and displaying diction is the only motive on the phone, no direct consolation or handshaking or naught kisses. Anyway, let’s jump the two couple conversation for a while.
Do people imagine words or they just say them naturally in simplicity, there are there inside our heads within the minds that activate them to take effect, the mouth that speaks them is just a door, but sometimes one needs a key to lock it, because they are so many who had regretted what they had said, the eyes that hears them also needs a key, for they are also many who wish they didn’t heard whatever they had, so ever the eyes reads them, so long what’s happening now, shall be known in the latter years to come, like myth.

But where exactly words comes from is not a question to ask, we may say the voice box, how about the mind, the mouth and the tongue, they ought to be some unclear sense here, a secret unknown, something not even to write about but Edith was writing about it.
It seems absurd in its sense, after all why anyway do we need to know that? There is lot of questions to do with our being, our ancestors had left us to figure out and yet still now; some of these answers haven’t yet come. They are many things we don’t have control on, imagination can be controlled, rather dreams that can only be controlled by nature. Let’s say life, Edith, believed that only twenty percent is what we control, the rest to Him who had made us to be, imagine a human who doesn’t even know when he’s to drop his second round, what the coming minute is gonna bring or where is his exactly way in life, in all he/she has to figure out. So this means that we’re owned and we had been measured and this is why we have limits.
But the question that emerge from that is, do we have anything we own, the birds we cage, do we do that because they don’t know how to be on their own or it’s the vain for us to feel the experience that we own, in fact they can survive with or without us, for the one who own us owns them, Mr. everything is definitely His name, when you hear someone telling you that he’s got everything, tell him to go to hell, he’s just got something that can not be compared with what others have, not actually everything.
Everything is not with us, just as the future isn’t with us all and either was the past with us all, nature is the master of everything, the very teacher of life, it contribute each and every aspect to do with life bringing us the meaning of us being here, bringing fates to deeds of yesteryear forgotten, but above all that, we’re not satisfied. Every life is precious for the money we nowadays worship can not buy it; they are principals that bind every human life and wonder why we’re God’s special assets, because we were engraved from his image unlike all the things He had created. After all from all that is embraced in the points of myth, they is something that defines us as whole and what confuses us to be reflected to whatever is the definition, is that we weren’t together before, so that’s why every individual follows his/her own roots and this days imperfection had taken place and a man is asking where did it went wrong, confusions of man are from his will from transcendent thoughts.

But to talk without seeing the one you’re speaking to even though you’ve got the eyes, say a prayer or through a phone or even others who just talk and talk answering themselves as if the other person, it’s not weird or the remains of myth, it’s because of different and the advancement of technology, however there is something funny and questioning when we bring the subject of technology and myth, would technology leave myth? Somehow yes it got to, why, because the things that were used to be done in myth time are now replaced with technology, and why technology? To make things better, but has anyone ever thought that God had made everything right and we doomed all that, and where are we right now, we’re mending? No we’re making it worse. And this is what Edith, knew and she was aware and fighting inside figuring out a way to bring justice, to make people aware of this, how young and how deep in life she was, was she to make it or she was just eating herself out.

14

“And it’s not even fair Marshal that I’ll have to leave him alone after all this time he was away, I know what we mean to each other—but—but- the thing is—is” she broke down stammering, she must had realized the mistake she had made, Marshal was the man, her man no mater what.
“What is it that had happened?” she calmed down aiming his very subject,
“That’s it, you should had asked that early on, the thing is yesterday was the heaviest of my days, I can’t believe this, I mean what happened to me Barbra—I can’t”
“And you think I would be able to help and guess what it is?” she asked,
“Don’t snap me that much, how can I when you’re doing that, you know we trust one another in everything”
And that was true, trust, sure they trusted one another and she understood that pretty well and that’s why she had broke down from the argument she was just about to start. His seriousness touched her and her instinct became wet, she thought maybe some of his games are spilled up and he’s on the run, though sometimes he was childish, she was sure that something distorting had just turned up.
Years could prove how they were so close, with all the reminiscent of high school and it all was a matter of games that had preserved their relationship so far, both they carried secrets of another aware not to spill one’s bins.
Barbra was Marshal right hand girl, if she did have any problem he was always there to help, and after all, here between them the secrets were deadly and dangerous, it was this core that adhere them as if endless, especially about the rape case that involved two of Marshal long time school friends.
It happened on a certain day, there was a movie going on at school during the night, Marshal and his two friends drove to watch. In the hall they was this young beautiful girl, she was a model and most guys at the school had failed to sweeten her up, hearing this from his friend, Marshal decided to try his best, and he was positive that it will work, nothing had ever failed him by being rich, but he had failed after this girl had scolded him in front of many teenagers. This is what drives him to rape her, by the middle of watching the movie, the electricity had went off, the school generator wasn’t working, as most school teenagers always do, a noise broke within the darkness, some singing, yelling and spraying their cold drinks and the wild things which are done with the modern kids.
The one who was in charge locked the hall and left to look for flashlights and also to fix the generator, that’s when Marshal made a deal with his friends, promising them thousand rand each, being a decent one, the girl never left her seat, but sat still waiting for the light, and after all she was scared of the wildness going on and suddenly firm grips grabbed her by the mouth, the thighs, then both the three seized her down, she had tried to kick and rolled, but the grips were hundred times stronger than her, she felt someone fumbling and drawing her skirt, then fumbled on the end of her skirt and the rape took place three times and it had hurts.
The next morning she had been discovered dead with the cleaner under a bench, hair tangled allover her face and the left breast exposed of her blouse, her genital naked smeared with dry blood and semen, the police investigations had never adjusted the deadly puzzle.
Latter on after a while still at high school, a certain day when Barbra and Marshal were dead drunk, that’s when this blood issue prolonged and Barbra, had decided to share hers, perhaps to make Marshal feel comfortable that his secret was safe, since she owns him, even about his drug dealing scheme.
The death of Sharon, the first wife of Craig, now her husband, Barbra had poisoned her in order to take over Marshal, actually this had happened when in disappointment that Marshal, had got married to Edith, all the while she had been desperately waiting that soon Marshal could marry her and Craig, was still proposing by that time.
Edith, had never seen Barbra, but Barbra had, after Edith, had smelt the perfume on the bed and had never brought the suspicious subject up due being afraid of Marshal, she had fallen suspicious that Marshal was having an affair with someone and the truth had came free on a silver platter from one of the guy very close to Marshal.

Days are cursed they are paths that leads to something new which is manifested with our thoughts, and this everyone knew every minute but awareness lacks because they could be constant things getting busy in everyone’s mind, it is impossible to think one thing at a time and this definitely has to do with what we see and hear and only sleeping and death can cure this system.
She said, he said and time never stopped clicking, it counted and gave them limits, for they was still more to come that needed to be registered in time.

15

She had came with a cup of coffee to the phone, after she had let it ring for while whilst she had been warming her husband food in the microwave, expecting that the call was again from Morriono, her cousin, a chatterbox who had called early two times in the morning, and very enthusiastic excited about the weeding in a couple of months to come.
Morriono, was always wild when it comes to functions, noise and drinks is all she valued in functions, as she once had told Barbra, noise makes her feel as if she’s over alive, the noise overwhelming all over her body, vibrating within every bone and assuring her that life is in progress, Barbra still remembered a certain function when she had insanely thrilled.
‘All you motherfuckers, I’m alive—I’m alive, all you motherfuckers who had died you were lazy to keep up with your breathes, no--not me I don’t give it up, take that you sucking suckers’
And indeed all the so called motherfuckers had stared at her and some even had came far from where they where they were enjoying at the part, just to see who the hell it was, Barbra would never forget the day. It was funny and some guest had got disappointed and had left the food and beer still warm and fresh.
That was Morriono, the nuisance, when layers of beer are pilled up in her skull, nobody could stop her, Barbra had once slapped her on the cheek and all she does was laugh and roar in zest taking all the attention from people.

So when the phone rang and rang again, she finally had decided to go and pick it up and give this stupid Morriono, the worst of her life, she went frowning across the floor and crossly indeed, the coffee cup hooked with her trembling fingers.
Her husband had always complained about the bill when he could see her chatting on the phone.
When she got by, after hearing the soft weak voice, she suddenly had known that she was wrong, it was someone she often spent time with in the absents of Craig, her husband.
Now on the middle of their seeming endless conversation, of what had happened to him the day before had almost been finalized and recorded.
“So that’s what she did to you, damn that’s too bad, I’m so sorry darling, but you’re to be fine, believe me I’ll make sure of that” though she was pretending compassion over this, it wasn’t prominent, she had learned to fake things from him, her cup of coffee of course she drank with satisfaction and great gusto, and she asked.
“Anyway, dear how did she find out? You know me and Edith, had never been friends”
Marshal, hesitated a little to that question and there was an unspoken conversation that hung suspended between them,
You did it, you bitch
No why should I do such a thing to you
Because you wanted to take over me just like you did to Craig’s, first wife
No that can’t be true Marshal, I wouldn’t do that to you after all you have done for me
Do you think I can really buy that?
Why not—why not?
Bitch—you killer----!
We both killers Marshal,
Yes, yes, they were both wearing one another’s face and no one wanted to be known of sins committed in the passed away days, when days had seemed a prolonged line of heaven they were walking and yet in sins.
“I know you didn’t tell her Barbra, someone did, and I ought to find out quickly about that damned mouth” A slightly silence reigned a while, and he felt that he had cast a stream of ragged comfortless, but regardless she answered him quite well.
“Yeah, sure you will, I was just thinking that maybe it might be some of your guys; they really know a lot to do with us” Barbra puts in, and she only wished that Craig, won’t come out very soon, he hated to see her spending such amounts of time on the phone though he had never looked suspicious or went to listen to on the other line, all was good about Graig, she thought so more often, but what she hated were his work excuses every time and then—especially the continuous business meetings, their romance wasn’t adequate.
“It’s hard to believe that but well, they sure know a lot and when I found out someone is to be in a huge-----?” he hesitated and pushed of the last words he intended to say, then puts in something else.
“You still remember that day when she almost finds us together, here, you perfume was very strong allover the bed cushions, she confessed that yesterday”
Surprised, with a vigor tone, she snapped in quickly,
“She got that?—oh! How?” almost to herself she asked in a hidden fear of being responsible, with an impression of being caught guilty, she realized her mistake; it wasn’t the proper manner she meant to respond like,
“Oh, yeah I still remember, I spilled it by mistake—I remember when you where bathing after me, for Christ sake I can’t believe that I’m also part of this—I’m so sorry Marshal”
He knew, he had melt his block and to drink it wasn’t that hard, he had a favour to ask from her and now that she had accepted that she had ruined him, he took that advantage to ask his favour, but before that he thought it wise to pass a bit of condolences.
“Come on sweet, it ain’t your fault, don’t you acidify yourself with too much pressure, things will work out, I promise” but still, she snapped in,
“I’m sorry Marshal, I messed you up, and I wish I could just take it back” he waited for her to finish and when she stopped he said,
“Its fine Barbra, I guess she just wanted to go, I don’t care about her and you mustn’t”
She reconsidered that she was still online and the shower was still running accompanied with a soft whistle.
“I might be that” she said, now wanting to make an excuses of calling it quits and save it for sometimes, but he was on another level and she find it hard to quit.
“Now listen up, they is something simple I would like you to do for me—would you want to?” she remained tense a while digesting her anger of this long conversation, she had had enough and wanted---whatever.
“Yes—yes, I can do anything for you Marsh, honey, be quick Graig is almost done”
“I need you to come here tomorrow and clear of her stuff, they’re driving me insane, you can either swap or keep what you want or even sell them and keep the money. I can’t bear seeing them” he pleaded, and she accepted but not exactly.
“Of course I can do that, but I mean not tomorrow, Monday would be just fine, today is Friday right?” she murmured and quickly catches up the exactly day, it was Thursday,
“Monday, can’t be fine Barbra, I really need this to happen very soon. Can’t you make an excuse to him” he argued and she didn’t fall on that without a fight.
“I’m sorry Marshal, I can’t make it for you Tomorrow, but I promise that I will do you that favour, take a self vacation for a while, it will do you good. If you don’t mind you can leave the keys with me, anytime from Sunday I would be able to work you house out. After all why can’t you get someone else, hire a maid or---”
By that he knew he had lost it, he kept quite waiting for her to say something, she too waited for a response but perceived that he was waiting for her,
“So on Monday, right? I promise I will make it up for you”
“Alright then, Monday!”
“where did she go?” damn, he thought to himself, this very subject was still with her, they were now on the brim of it but now she had just went on a little beneath, however he answered her,
“She didn’t say exactly where, but I think she went to her grandma in Cape Town”
“I’m really sure that it’s not just my perfume, there got to be someone who had told her”
“Yeah, bullshits peering on my business, and after all she’s also a clever bitch, anyway let’s brush this subject of, don’t ever give it a ring, it’s over with her”
He warned her,
“Fine, you’ve got my promise”
“I accept it”

16
“Young lady, you’re still on the phone, lika your mom owns it----anyway, I’m going out for a little business expenditure, will be back in 30 minutes time”
He walked closer to her and bended over then kissed her on the tip of her nose with closed eyes,
“Love you honey” he said after she had just opened them, her left hand gagging on the mouthpiece, with a childish smile she said,
“I love you too”
He nodded walking towards the door, Barbra, watching his back, as if from after thought, she said,
“Don’t you forget that sum of money I asked, please darling, I must have it”, she said still watching his back. He turned back and looked in her eyes smiling a bit and a teasing one, looking in his eyes set a spark of guiltiness within her and she pretended to return the same remark and he said.
“Count it done baby, you know I don’t let you down” she made a mocking leery smile as he headed to the door and got out without turning back, at the same time she placed the receiver back on her ear, after a sigh of relief, then,
“Hello, Marshal?”
“I’m still on---count it done” he mimicked then chuckled mockingly,
“My husband would kill you, if he heard that Marsh” she laughed and began a fresh subject that had just came on her mind by the time,
“Guess what! Next month, there is a wedding going on at Charlotte mansion, I’ve received an invitation card meant for four, so you’re on my pick list. Would you want to go with me Marsh--?”
“Yes, why not, you know I love weddings, I can’t wait till I have my own”
“Cool, I’ll see you Monday—kiss—kiss, bye”
Deadline, he said bye to the air and put back the receiver a bit disappointed.

17

After an hour and couple of minutes having had been chatting on the phone with Marshal, now seated on the slack comfortable settee, her mind pitched tight with what he had said, she was now suffering deep inside, he had lit a small smoldering flame in her conscious and second by second in his soliloquy the fire kept on bulging up, creating an orifice that can only be felt deeply where her thoughts were in constant motion, she couldn’t figure out where exactly this was taking place whether in her mind or heart.
She tried to regret all the time she had sneaked with him on his bed as if married couple for real was this habit in recent time, like getting in the kitchen preparing meals for the day, or else sat in the wide luxurious lounge watching TV and puffing drugs of many kinds, after then when sex cravenness caught them, it was another serious part she would never forget. Sucking his and when those semen springs out dripping on his penis, her mouth licking as he could be making his heavy sighs of ecstasy, yes he did that also to her, but the thing was she had times this could just set an agitation in her mind when she’s normal off drugs, this wasn’t the way her parents had raised her, they were very cautious and mentor parents, but she had leaped off from their ship, it hurts her, too bad it hurts her even now.
Especially the day they almost got caught with Edith, whilst swimming, she in Edith, swimming costume. It happened that all of that sudden, the electric gate went pulling aside opening, and they knew that Edith had arrived for some reason since it wasn’t the fixed time she came home from work. Half naked they both rushed inside and skulked to the spare bedroom, where he told her to lock the door from inside, then he slithered back to the lounge looking hysterically for an evidence that might had led them to being caught, there wasn’t anything in the lounge. He then ran in the main bedroom and found Barbra’s pants which he had quickly figured where to hide them and under the mattress is where he had placed them, as he peered his head in the lounge, Edith was just closing the door.
She had came home due to a headache, he knew that she reads a lot without having enough sleep and that was the cause, Marshal had earlier thought that she might had forgotten something in particular to do with her job and to his surprise that was wrong. She had kissed him and had told him of her striking headache, then went straight to bed, he had helped her with a glass of dozed water, and more of the same tablets which she had drank and motionless fall asleep.
When he told Barbra that everything was sorted, they both had waited for ten minutes for the tablets to surfeit her completely, then latter on they had struggled gentle lifting up the mattress with her, Barbra holding her naked shoulder in case she might fall and smelling the perfume she had spilled earlier, that’s the day she had felt her soft skin and the stunning blonde hair, poor Edith, had been in the depth of sleepiness, when they fetched the clothes out they straight had drove to Marshal’s place, leaving Edith alone and sure that he would come back and find her the way he had left her.
That was one of the biggest scar holding a greater space within her dirt memory, dark and prominent enough to be felt, it was something that wasn’t to be obliterated by anything accept death the host of all lives, a doze of drugs could easy this temporary.
She thought about how stupid she was by quitting her acting job, she could have been self dependence and supporting by now. She thought about Marshal, breaking up with Edith and Veronika, Craig’s first wife she had poisoned in order to take over her Husband and all the crimes committed with Marshal, and had entrusted on her and now rediscovered that she was building sins upon sins, too much stupid mistakes.
‘Whatever!’ She tried to force this subject off her mind but it wasn’t easy at all, Veronika appeared again, the homicide committed six or seven years ago but to think of it, it seemed fresh and it was painful, she had had bate on it that once this was done she wasn’t to regret over it anymore. She swore before she had killed her, remorse was the other thing she had crossed her heart that she won’t be a subject to and now it was a surprise that her memories were making her insane.
Her thoughts were weighting like a concrete slab stuck in her fragile soul, Marshal being the basic and major source. He was her best friend and boyfriend and years could approve of that, but this feeling she now had was destructive, she wanted to end this, yes of course to dumb him and cash him with foul words. But there was an obstacle, it was impossible after all he had done for her, save that there were a lot of evil stuff they entrusted to each other, this wasn’t something one can wash of like dirty, no—not sins, would Jesus pardon this—would he really dare and kiss you’re forgiven young lady—go well and sin no more.
She wanted to, but something was forbidding her to carry on, on cutting this relationship with Marshal, Barbra, wasn’t working at all this days after she had told her boss to go to hell when this boss wanted her to do a job she didn’t approve according to her qualifications and never mind the stupid job money wasn’t a problem it was rolling from both Craig and Marshal. Deserting of Marshal would be just like shitting where she eats, she had to comfort him instead, after all his loose and Marshal had always been a guiden since school days.
Actually, she knew that Marshal wasn’t the type that accept loosing, he would do anything to make him feel as the one on all wheels, she knew the consequences that would follow her if she dare breaks his heart, like the girl she had raped at School years ago, people he had killed in his drug dealing system and other things she couldn’t quite remember.
He needed a shoulder and she understood that and she was left with no option but to console him all she could.
Craig, was the other obstacle and she had made many excuses earlier on and about this situation of Marshal, wanting someone to clear off his mess, it was challenging in a way she couldn’t quite well understand, she had this feeling, that Marshal probably had thought that she was the one who had caused Edith, to part with him in the same manner to take over, and now he wanted to trap her somehow. It wasn’t a big deal, she thought, this time she have to play wise and cross not to be taken advantage of. In the middle of these meandering thoughts the phone ringed again, she looked with a disgusted impression and stood heading to pick it up---the godamn phone---bull---, she sworn then hesitated to pick it and closing her eyes she roughly plucked it of rudely.

14

This time it was her uncle’s wife, Mrs. Greenbadge, in her sixty, still with guts to know what’s happening around the world, she brought three popular newspapers everyday and spent all day reading and there was nothing happening in the world that you could ask her and be unable to tell you. Since Barbra, had stayed with her for a while whilst she was still a high school girl that’s when she had came to know about this.
Mrs. Greenbadge stayed on the north west of Pretoria, just close to the outskirts of Century
, a widow and a mother of a nine year old beautiful daughter, the one who had the stunning silver blonde hair and delicate feature of a face with dimples that extracts every time she smiles, like a fairy child as most people used to refer her.
Barbra, as she still remembers, it was four years and a couple of months since she met with her at Roxette band which took place in Cape Town, this girls name was Kelsey and was living in Cape Town with her grandmother, her mother coming to visit her more often especially in holiday time.
“How are days caring you on baby, don’t tell me you’re just sitting like a bag of garbage undone doing nothing, I want you back on TV, you hear me?” Mrs. Greenbadge puts in greeting her niece and sounding very happy.
“I’m doing well Mam and looking to be back again maybe next year, it’s just that there are few things I have to put in shape before I start all that” Barbra said with a sad torn,
“Maybe, is a doubt I should tell you baby, well! You don’t ask us the expects of what to do with your lives, you modern things don’t just get it that we the elders got a lot of experience with life and know of solutions on many aspects of life. You are very mistaken”
“Very mistaken-oh, me, no—not me, don’t include me in those who are mistaken, I respect and take a great deal from elders” she said defensively.
“Is that so?”
“What, you don’t believe me?”
“Why should I, since when did you asked me of such things to help you out, you had never” the lady blurted out and Barbra heard her clearing her throat.
“Well, I did asked some elders close enough to me”
“Don’t you fool me young lady, they all say that latter on to hear that there are in the brinks of troubles, find a day and come here, I would give you some advices and do some counseling on you, how’s that?”
“Some what?” she hardly chuckled and tried to revert her thrill knowing that the lady would absolutely say this was disrespecting,
“You’re laughing, aha, well don’t, it’s your own life Miss and I’m here to show you a good direction but if you take it for granted some days on, you would suffer your own regrets and hopefully I won’t be there for you” she warned seriously.
“Didn’t mean to blub, Mrs. Green, I didn’t know that you’re also a counselor” she chuckled some more this time in holding her mouth so as not to be heard, but somehow that chocked her throat and after she recovered, Mrs. Greenbadge said,
“Its fine, now for the reason I’ve called, I’m asking you a favor”
Barbra, knew it was her way of getting rid of what she was laughing about, though she was a nice lady and very inspirational but Barbra find it hard to fit in her temperament, many times she views old people as outdated and this more like hurts her, it was something she tried more often to get rid of but her self control was weak, it was another reason why she depended on Marshal and Marshal took advantage of that.
“I’ve got Kelsey with her grandmother for the holiday; she couldn’t come without her coming, so her grandmother had no other choice but to come with her”
“Oh, Kelsey, it’s been a long time since we met—how is she doing?”
“She’s fine and growing up big, I only hope that she won’t loose her dimples, people admires them so much, they say they’re remarkable”
Barbra, smiled on her own and she admits on that, the girl was one of the girls she admires their prettiness.
“I go with them too”
“Yes you do, here is the favor. I heard from Morriono, that you received an invitation from the Charlotte family wedding party, all this days I were deciding if you might want to go with her, I would be so pleased”, Mrs. Greenbadge said,
“Yeah, that will be cool, I’d love to go with her, does she still remember me, if she does then we can easily get used within not much time”
“Kelsey would never forget, I can bate on that, and you talking of getting used with her, she had wanted to see you after the day she arrived; only now she’s out cruising around her birth land, you could have talked with her!” Barbra made a giggle and slipped to ask,
“So how are we arranging on that?”
“Well, since it’s a long way here, if you don’t mind picking her at Paul Krugger Park the morning of the wedding—is that okay?”
“No problem, I promise I would fetch her, I really can’t wait to see her!” she quickly said before Kelsey’s mother took another breathe after her say.
“Good and thanks a lot!”
“Pleasure is all mine!”
“By the way tell me about your man, how is he?”
In her fleeting thoughts, this question crossed over Craig, and went smashing on Marshal, she wanted to sigh but quickly acknowledged how that was to rise another subject from this woman, now it was enough she wasn’t to let this big mouthed woman go further chatting with her, she said,
“No, not now sometimes on, I’ve got a pot on the stove Mrs. Green”
“Oh, so you are cooking for him, that’s nice, many woman don’t cook for their man these days, only orders and deliverance from food restaurants”
At last the sigh came out, but it was faint and cupped in her hand,
“I’m sorry Mrs. Green, I don’t want to burn it up, I’ve got to go!” she almost screamed, and Mrs. Green hurried in,
“Never mind pass my regards—bye and take care”
“I’ll, you too”
Dead line.