First Encounter
A strong whirlwind came sweeping everything in its wake; plastics, cigarette buds, feathers and possibly disease, towards our direction in a speed of light. It was the third that Saturday afternoon. I hid behind a bus stop signage, as it approached, fortunately without the need to cover my merchandise since I traded on non-perishables. Everything cooled off in a few minutes. I could not run; I had to make a sale. There were a couple of us, mostly young women, on that slow trade day. I winked and smiled at a girl next to me. She looked like someone who just came out of a circus.
Reddish dust from the wind covered her hair and eyelashes. She smiled back at me.
“Check this one out,” I said to a woman checking out my wire cars, “it comes with a removable steering wheel.”
“I ’m hunting for a toy for my boy’s birthday,” the woman said,” coming in the next few days.”
“This one is convertible; he’ll love it,” I said,” it comes with removable wheels.”
I was excited; I was about to make my first sale for the day. I could make removable wheels using either empty snuff containers or tins of used polish. I was excellent in making wire cars; some were convertible, some had sunroofs, some openable doors, and booths.
“That van has a canopy,” I said,“you have the option of rubber wheels.”
I had to be a salesperson. I had to create hype around my merchandise to make a sale. Otherwise, I would be short on pocket money for Bioscope on Sunday with Monty. My cars did deliver on the promise, though.
“I’ll take this one, “she said.
“Excellent choice,” I said.
The woman chose a ford mustang with double exhaust. She gave me a five rand note. I was about to give her two rand note change when we heard voices. It was Cynthia, the girl next to me. Her family sold everything they could lay their hands on to survive.
“Leave me alone,” she shouted.
She was yelling at some guys. They screeched to a halt near us with an old BMW that was playing loud music. I had seen them before, but I could not remember where, always in some groups.
“Why you sell us this shit,” some guy said,” I guess you store them under your bed.”
He threw her mopani worms on the ground.
“You leave my things alone,” she shouted.
She pushed the guy away from her with both hands. He stumbled backward and almost fell. They had attempted to coerce her to go out with them, but she rebuffed them.
“You whore come kiss daddy,” the second guy said.
She folded her hands and stared at them without blinking. The man spat right on her face. She tilted her head, and the saliva hit her left cheek. She removed her handkerchief and wiped herself. She stood there in cold silence, but I could see her eyes tearing, they were becoming red. She did not make any sounds, but her face said it all. She was terrified and that made me furious. I wanted to stand up for her, though fear consumed me to the point that my feet trembled. It felt like a hot iron rod pierced through my heart. I thought of Bongi, my younger sister, what if punks like these did the same to her. Suddenly adrenaline rushed through my veins and directly to my brain; I could not stop myself. I could not watch and do nothing.
“Guys, leave her alone,” I shouted at the top of my voice, “can’t you be gentle for once.”
“You got some balls, young tiger,” the third guy said.
He rushed from the car brandishing a softball bat. The woman who just bought a car vanished. She was scared; she did not even take her change. The whole group came charging towards me like raging bulls. They were baying for blood. I bruised their ego. I must have been the first young man to stand up against their bullying.
“What you gonna do,” the second guy said, “pretty-face?”
One of them stomped on my best convertible that I was finalizing for a client. At that moment, my blood boiled. I took a long thick wire I was busy shaping into a steering wheel and pierced it through who seemed to be their leader’s stomach.
“Ouch, that kid stabbed me,” he said, he screamed.
“Don’t just stand there, chase him and bring him here in one piece,” he shouted to the other guys.
“Run-run,” I shouted to Cynthia.
As I glanced a few meters back, to see my chasers, I saw the leader falling to the ground. The other two chased me while the community flocked around the fallen hero. I tripped into a pit of muddy water; my white sneakers were blacked out. I did not care; I had to continue to run to safety. I ran around the clustered tin sharks for almost twenty minutes. I seemed to lose them, but one of them caught my sight, they kept chase. I ran in circles to trick them and run back towards the opposite direction.
“Monty-Monty,” I whispered, “please open.”
I screeched his bedroom windowpane.
“Man, what’s wrong,” Monty asked.
“Open the window, “I said.
I quickly jumped through the window into his bedroom. I closed his mouth with my dirty, muddy hands so that he did not make a noise. As we were hiding, I heard voices outside.
“He went into that house,” the second guy said.
“No man,” the first guy said, “he ran towards that building.”
“We’ll get him,” the second man said, “We’ll hunt him down until we find him.”
The groupies did not know where I lived. Many people, even at school did not know; that was how I kept it. Later that night, I lied to my family that I sold all the cars and had the money saved. I did not let them in on the chaotic day I had.
