Scarred Lions Read Free Page A

face.
    ‘Uh hi, thanks,’ I answered apprehensively. My heart was still racing. Somehow, meeting your father for the first time is a mind-blowing experience. Not mind-blowingly good, mind-blowingly terrifying.
    His hand was still stretched out towards me. I took it, his grip soft. Then he did a strange thing, shifting his hand from a normal handshake to gripping my thumb, again gently, and back to a normal handshake.
    ‘Oh,’ I said, taken aback.
    ‘Sawubona!’ he said again.
    I nodded sheepishly. ‘You’re Themba, right? My dad?’ I don’t know why I said it. The words just came spilling out. Of course he was my father.
    ‘No!’ the man said loudly, ‘I’m Lwazi. I work with your dad.’
    What? The unsettled feeling inside me increased. ‘But where’s my dad then?’
    ‘He still had some work to do, so he asked me to come and pick you up.’
    ‘But my mum said Themba will –’
    ‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after you.’ Lwazi smiled again, patting me on the shoulder. I didn’t like that at all. After all I’d been through I would have expected my dad to come and fetch me himself. Could I even trust this guy? He seemed friendly enough, but you never know. I didn’t like strangers. It was just the way I had been brought up. Living in a big city like London also did that to you.
    I glanced around the arrivals hall, trying to see if the security officer who had talked to me earlier was still around. If there were any problems, I could call him. He was nowhere to be seen but there were others around now, also dressed in uniforms. Hopefully there were some in plain clothes as well.
    ‘Let me help you with your baggage,’ Lwazi offered.
    ‘No!’ I snapped, grabbing the trolley. The conversation I’d had only minutes ago with the security officer was still fresh in my mind.
    ‘You’re afraid,’ said Lwazi.
    ‘I’m … I’m careful.’
    ‘That is always a good thing. Especially in South Africa.’
    Yes, I was afraid of all of this, but I was trying to hide my fear. Arriving in a strange new country that you are supposed to call your home from now on; then barely having set foot in the country and getting warned about being robbed; and having a total stranger pick you up at the airport. That would make anyone apprehensive.
    ‘You’re here!’ I heard somebody calling.
    ‘Buyisiwe!’
    A white boy and a black girl came running. They were about my age. Fourteen. They too were smiling, their faces lighting up as if they had known me all their lives. I stepped back as they approached.
    ‘Sorry we missed you,’ said the freckle-faced boy with the red hair. ‘Simoshile had to go to the ladies. And I had to see that she didn’t get lost. She’s got no sense of direction at all.’
    The girl’s eyes widened. ‘André! Shut up!’
    The boy shook my hand and placed his arm around my shoulder. It felt strange to me. Should I just shrug it off, or would it be rude to do that?
    ‘My name is André,’ he said excitedly.
    The girl smiled gently. Her dark brown eyes were kind as she introduced herself: ‘And I’m Simoshile.’
    ‘Buyisiwe,’ I said, but then remembered that they already knew it. After all, they’d called my name as they came running.
    ‘I see you’ve met Lwazi,’ said André.
    ‘I think Buyi thought I was a tsotsi!’ laughed Lwazi. ‘A criminal.’
    ‘If there is one person you can trust completely, it is Lwazi,’ said André. ‘I’m not so sure about Simoshile, though.’ Simoshile’s eyebrows rose suddenly. André’s eyes twinkled mischievously as he added, ‘She just might steal your heart!’
    Simoshile gave André a shove. He laughed playfully, winking at me.
    ‘I’ll get you for that, André!’ said Simoshile.
    ‘Enough of this fooling around,’ said Lwazi as he took hold of my trolley. This time I let him, feeling much more at ease. ‘I’m sure Buyi is tired. We have to get going. There is still a long road ahead.’
    Exactly where this long road would