Red Earth Read Free Page B

with that. My dad wouldn’t let me go anywhere with you anyway – not with any boy, I mean.’ At that moment Lerato’s phone had begun to play a rap tune. ‘Speaking of my dad, just let me get this. I called him to see if he can come pick me up now.’
    It was an odd day at school. Their teachers had just called an impromptu strike over wages and school was finishing before lunch. Themba walked to and from school, seven kilometres each way, but Lerato’s dad dropped her at school every morning and collected her each afternoon, in a shiny new black BMW.
    She had answered the phone, stood and walked away to talk to her father. Themba had felt like a piece of him had been chopped off as she left, even though she was standing just a few metres away.
    â€˜What? No, I understand. OK. There’s someone who can help. He’s a good guy, Dad, honest. No, Dad, he’s not like other boys, he’s kinda nice. He’s totally not the sort of guy who would try anything, trust me, please. Here, you can talk to him.’
    Themba looked up at Lerato as she returned to his side. He didn’t know if he’d heard right. ‘What is it?’ he mouthed to her.
    She lowered her phone. ‘My dad can’t come pick me up or send his driver because he has some business meeting he needs to attend. It’s urgent and he can’t get out of it. He’s very protective of me. I have to get a taxi home, but he’s paranoid something will happen to me. Here.’ She thrust the phone into his hand.
    â€˜Hello?’ Themba had said tentatively.
    â€˜My daughter says you can be trusted, is that correct?’ the deep voice on the phone said, no preamble, no greeting.
    â€˜Um. Yes. Yes, sir.’
    â€˜Listen carefully to me, boy. Do you know who I am?’
    Themba swallowed. ‘Yes, sir. Mr Bandile Dlamini.’ He wasn’t sure what else to say, so added, ‘a very important man.’
    â€˜I don’t need your flattery, I need your help. If my daughter is harmed in any way, trips over, stubs her toe or has a hair out of place, I will make it my business to hurt you. Do you understand me?’
    Themba understood the soft, menacing tone perfectly. ‘Yes, sir.’
    â€˜Put my daughter back on the line.’
    Lerato had reassured her father that all would be fine, and that Themba would see her home safe. Lerato’s mathematics teacher was the last to leave the school and she had stayed back to explain something to Lerato, her favourite student. Now Themba was waiting, feeling sick to his stomach with apprehension, and maybe something else.
    â€˜I’m not hanging around any longer,’ Bongi said.
    â€˜OK, fine. See you tomorrow,’ Themba replied.
    Bongi punched him in the arm. ‘Man, you’ve got it bad.’
    â€˜I do not.’ Even as he said the words, Themba knew they were a lie.
    Bongi walked away, waving his hand in the air without looking back. Themba looked at his shoes. The toes were scuffed. He licked a finger and wiped them, then rubbed each on the backs of his trouser legs. The shoes didn’t look much better; there was no disguising the fact that he was poor. He sighed. Lerato’s father might be happy for him to shepherd his daughter home, but he would never allow Themba to take her out on a date or anything like that.
    â€˜Hi. I’m done.’
    Lerato’s voice was more melodious than any bushveld bird he had heard. His heart felt like there was an invisible hand wrapped around it, squeezing.
    â€˜OK,’ he croaked. ‘Let’s go.’
    As he walked out the gates to the road to where they would pick up a minibus taxi, with the prettiest girl in school by his side, Themba felt like the luckiest boy alive. Part of him felt a little miffed that Lerato had told her father he could be trusted because he was some kind of harmless nerd, as opposed to the other boys who strutted loud and proud in front