By Any Means

by Kurt Ellis

  Tyson mounted him and swung down hard with punch after punch. Kyle covered his face and the punches bounced off his forearms. Through his defences, he could see Tyson’s face contorted in a mixture of effort and glee. An animalistic sound, somewhere between a growl and a perverse giggle, escaped from his lips. But Kyle waited. He waited for his opportunity and when Tyson’s blows slowed down, Kyle reached up. He grabbed Tyson by the back of his head and pulled his face down as he drove his own forehead up. It struck Tyson in the mouth and Kyle felt the breaking of teeth against his cranium. He head-butted Tyson once more before swiftly throwing a right-handed punch. It knocked Tyson off him and onto the ground. Kyle scrambled up and over to him. He knelt on Tyson’s biceps to prevent him from protecting his face and he punched. Kyle punched hard. Solidly. Freely. Right, then left, then right, then left. Blood sprayed from Tyson’s face. But Kyle kept punching. His anger, his hurt, his pain. It was his fault. He killed Jimmy. He did it. He did it. His shoulders and arms began to cramp and burn. And so did his lungs. Kyle had exhausted himself with punches. Gasping, he pushed himself off Tyson.

  Amazingly, Tyson was still conscious, but his face and mouth were a bloody pulp. He began to retch and cough up blood and teeth. Dragging himself to the wall, he tried to sit up. Kyle watched him with a blue flame of hatred burning in his head.

  “Give me a gun,” he hissed.

  Gary obliged and placed a black revolver in his hands. Kyle pointed the weapon at Tyson’s red, dripping face and began to squeeze the cold trigger. The hammer slowly moved back. Tyson looked up through swollen eyes at Kyle, then at Earl, Bruge and Gary. He smiled when he saw Spider and tried to say something, but his mouth was destroyed and could not form words. Kyle squeezed the trigger harder. One more millimetre was all it probably needed to snap forward. And just as the hammer was about to slam into the sweet part of the bullet, Kyle eased the pressure.

  He handed the gun back over to Gary. Much as his anger begged him to, he just could not pull the trigger.

  The strange thing was, he was thinking of Captain at that moment. He did not doubt that his cousin would have pulled the trigger without a second’s hesitation. But what would Captain think of him if he did it? All he could think of was the disappointment in Captain’s eyes.

  “What the fuck is that?” Spider asked, his face twisted with anger. “Shoot him.”

  Kyle glared at him and had the urge to knock Spider’s teeth down his throat as well. But he didn’t. He’d had enough. He wanted to get out of there, so he began to walk to the door. Behind him Bruge, Earl and Gary raised their guns and fired. They shot Tyson in his devastated face and he slumped over to the floor.

  Kyle turned back for a final look at Tyson. The man’s head was jammed in the corner of bed and wall. He’d thought he would feel some sort of relief. Some contentment at having got the vengeance he wanted. Instead, he still felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.

  “I knew you couldn’t do it,” Spider said to Kyle. “You’re just not man enough.”

  Kyle stopped and glowered at the grinning Spider. Spider must have realised what was going to happen, because his smile quickly faded. Kyle no longer fought the urge to knock Spider’s teeth down his throat. He rushed forward and drove his fist into his face.

  Spider crashed into the side table of the bed and slumped to the floor next to Tyson. He was dazed, but he slowly began to raise his gun towards Kyle.

  Kyle reacted swiftly. He dived down at the firearm in Spider’s hand and gripped him at the wrist. He pointed the gun down to the floor and away from himself. The noise was louder that any gunshot he had ever heard before. The bullet buried itself into the carpet. Without releasing his grip on Spider’s arm, he violently ground his elbow into Spider’s neck and face, until he could feel his grip on the gun ease. Then he reached down and took Spider’s middle finger and bent it as far back as he could. There was a crack of bone and Spider screamed out in pain. The hard metal weapon clanked to the floor. Kyle released Spider’s wrist and swung a left hook which connected solidly with his mouth.

  Kyle slowly stood up, swaying with exhaustion. He felt dizzy, almost confused. As if he was the one who had just withstood an onslaught of blows.

  Spider looked up with blood dripping from his lips. “Kill … him,” he spurted blood towards the Godfathers. “Fucking kill him!”

  Bruge, Earl and Gary looked at each other, then at the expressionless face of Kyle, who was glaring down at Spider.

  “Do you … fucking hear me? I said kill him. I’m in charge now. Kill him!”

  The three Godfathers turned and walked out of the room. A stunned look crossed Spider’s face. He tried to get back to his feet as Kyle studied him. When Spider managed to get both his feet under him, Kyle drew his fist back and punched him hard. His knuckles connected with the tip of Spider’s nose. Spider’s head snapped back. He didn’t so much fall backwards but collapsed straight down. As if his legs had suddenly turned to water. He remained still, knocked out cold.

  Kyle turned and walked out, leaving a corpse and an unconscious person behind him. He walked out into the night. His night.

  60

  The wind whistled in the warm evening sky and spoke to Kyle as he stood on his rooftop. It whispered something soothing to him, yet he could not hear the words being said. He rested his arms on the ledge and listened to the incoherent bustle of the road below him.

  “I thought I’d find you here,” a voice behind him said.

  He turned to see Amia, looking more beautiful than she ever had.

  “Oh, my God!” she exclaimed, rushing forward. “What happened to your face?”

  Kyle turned his swollen face back over to the horizon. “I’m fine,” he said coldly.

  She stopped next to him, and the scent of her perfume was almost too much for him to bear.

  “I … I just wanted to see if you were okay,” she said softly.

  Kyle refused to look at her. He knew if he did, he would risk breaking down into tears. “I’m fine. I don’t need your pity. I’ll be okay.”

  “Would you like to talk?

  “About what?”

  “Anything. Jimmy? Captain?”

  Kyle forced a harsh laugh. “There’s nothing to talk about.” His speech was measured and emotionless.

  “That’s what you say, but I think you want to talk.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Amia reached out and pulled him by the arm to face her. “Please, Kyle. Talk to me.”

  “What the fuck do you want me to say?” he shouted. He looked into her eyes and felt weak, vulnerable, and he fought it. He wanted to be angry. “That I should have protected Jimmy? That I should have been there for Captain? I already know this is my fault. So please, just leave me alone.”

  Kyle fought to hold on to the tears, but Amia’s tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

  She turned to walk away, but stopped after two steps. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  Kyle took in a deep breath. “I’m sorry for shouting.” He sighed. “It’s just that … everyone I love … everyone I love is gone. They’ve all left me.” He felt a trickle down his cheek so he turned back to look at the rooftops. “Do you know what it’s like to know that there’s absolutely no one out there who loves you? Nobody who cares about you? To know that if I were to die today, no one would shed a single tear. I …” Kyle stopped speaking as his voice began to break. He wiped the tears from his eyes and clenched his jaw. Man up, Kyle. Man up.

  Amia walked up from behind and ran her fingers through the hair at the back of his head and the nape of his neck. “I love you,” she whispered.

  Confused, Kyle turned to her. “How can –”

  She interrupted. “I have always loved you, and it’s the most wonderful and scary feeling I have ever felt. But every guy I have ever loved has hurt me. Has left me. I was alone, and I was happy to be alone. Then you come along, and you make me feel so special. But I don’t deserve that, Kyle. I am not special.” />
  Kyle was almost angry. Angry that Amia could ever believe that she was not special. “Are you insane? You’re the most special person in the world. At least to me, and that’s all that matters between you and me.”

  “But you are also leaving me.”

  “What makes you think I’m going to leave you?” Kyle asked, confused.

  “Kyle, we both know you’re going to leave me. You’re going to England. Anything we have, or had, was doomed from the start.”

  Kyle reached out and took her hand. He stared into her big brown eyes. “So what? You said you wanted to au pair in Europe next year. We can still be together.” He reached up and stroked the tears away from her eyes. “Whatever happens, I will make a plan. I love you too much just to let you go. I have prayed for someone for so long, and you are the answer I have been given. I’ll never hurt you. I’ll never leave you.”

  Tears were running down her face.

  “There are probably a million reasons as to why we can’t work out,” Kyle continued. “Millions! But all I care about is the one reason that we can: because I love you more than words can describe.”

  Amia reached up and touched Kyle’s cheek. She stood on her toes and kissed him. He had forgotten just how wonderful her lips were and his heart reacted with a song of joy.

  She hugged him tight. “Will you love me forever?’

  He smiled. “I told you. Forever isn’t long enough.”

  61

  He peeped into the hospital room. Captain was hooked up to numerous machines that beeped and hummed and made the room look far more intimidating than anything he had ever encountered. Kyle hated coming to the hospital. He always had. The smell of the sterility was nauseating to him. He’d refused to visit Captain before today – he did not want to say goodbye to his cousin.

  Captain had been unconscious for three weeks by then. Three weeks longer than anyone had expected, yet still the doctors said he would not survive. But Captain was fighting, and he was fighting hard. Typical, stubborn Anthony. He never knew when he was beaten.

  Kyle edged into the room. Captain had a ventilation pipe taped down and through a cut in his throat. Kyle stood at the bedside and looked down at his cousin. Captain had never looked more frail or vulnerable. He took Captain’s hand in his and it felt cold. Stiff.

  “Hey, Anthony,” he said, trying to sound a little jovial. “It’s Kyle.” He paused, half expecting a response. Of course there was none.

  “I hate to be mean, but you look like shit, cuz.” He laughed sadly. “It’s the matric ball tonight. You should see me. I’m looking like the Bee Gees. I look like Saturday Night Fever.” He was wearing a crisp white rented suit, with a black Chinese-collar shirt. “I’m back together with Amia. Going strong. She told me everything. About the things that’ve happened to her. God, men are fucking assholes. The good news is that it’s not just our family.” Kyle hoped to hear the sound of Captain laughing.

  When it did not come, he continued. “I want to tear her mother’s boyfriend a new one, but she doesn’t want me to. But I did thrash Tyson. You don’t have to worry about him any more. I’ve taken care of it. But here’s the big news, Anthony: I made it. Birmingham wants me. I’m in. I’m leaving next week for England. I signed a junior contract and will be getting one hundred pounds a week, outie. That’s … what? Over a grand a week in rands. Plus Charlie choons I’ll probably get a senior contract after about a year or two if I keep working hard. He’s talking about me getting at least a thousand pounds a week to start with. I mean, holy shit, bru! It’s all coming together. Plus, I’m not going to be leaving Amia behind. We’re looking at colleges for her in the UK, and Charlie will help us with a place to stay and stuff like that.”

  Kyle suddenly felt guilty for being so happy. “I’m sorry about what happened, cuz. I really am. I wish I’d been there that night. I’m praying for you, though. Every day, just like Oupa told us. I hope you hear it right here.” He touched his cousin on the chest, above his heart.

  He checked his watch. “I need to get going. I need to pick up Amia.” He lifted his hand from Captain’s chest. “Get better, cuz. I’ll see you soon.”

  62

  Kyle parked the car outside Paula’s house and jogged up the pathway. He knocked on the heavy wooden door and after a second Paula opened it and greeted him with a tight hug.

  “Hey you!” she said with a broad smile. “Wow, you look handsome.”

  Kyle blushed. “Thanks. Is Amia ready?”

  “Have patience. She’s making herself pretty for you.”

  “She’s always pretty to me.”

  “Oh, my God,” Paula exclaimed mockingly. “You are so sweet, it is sickening.”

  Kyle laughed.

  They stood in the doorway and were discussing the matric ball when Amia appeared. She was wearing an elegant white dress that embraced the contours of her body. It had thin straps over the shoulders, and she was wearing a white see-through shawl. Her jet-black hair hung free and unrestricted, and her eyes … those eyes of hers were pools of lava. Bright and hot. She did a teasing twirl and pose and she smiled that smile of hers and he fell in love all over again.

  “Oh, God … Wow! You look gorgeous!”

  Her smile broadened and she tilted her head to the side before she rushed into his arms. He embraced her tightly.

  She led him by the hand through to the lounge to meet Paula’s parents before they went out. Then he held open the door of Charlie’s car for her and got in behind the wheel. For a while they were silent, listening to Boz Scaggs serenade them softly as they drove.

  “Have I told you how beautiful you look?”

  “Stop it now,” she smiled. “You’re making me blush.”

  Kyle laughed. He reached out and took her hand. He brought her fingers to his mouth and kissed them gently.

  At the Natal Yacht Club, where the dance was being held, Kyle had to manoeuvre the car carefully through the crowds of young people, all in suits and evening dresses, milling about the parking lot. He found an open bay and parked quickly before rushing over to the passenger side to open the door for Amia. The parking area was full of vehicles and young people celebrating the culmination of their school years. Hand in hand Kyle and Amia walked towards the entrance of the hall. Their faces shone as they greeted their friends. There were smiles and handshakes all around, and a few hugs, but never once did they let go of each other’s hands.

  It was during one of the handshakes that Kyle first caught a glimpse of him. Just a blur. Initially, he did not realise who it was. He just saw someone who did not fit in with his surroundings. Someone who was out of place, wearing a thick tracksuit jacket with a hood up amongst the suits and ties. He slithered as if in constant shadow through the crowd, and only when he was a few feet away did Kyle finally identify him. To Kyle, Spider moved as if he was in slow motion while everything around him was sped up. It was strange, but Kyle somehow knew why he was there. Why Spider was glaring at him from beneath the shadow of his hood. Kyle squeezed Amia’s hand tighter as Spider raised the gun. He only heard the first bang, and then silence. He felt the first burn and wetness, then numbness. His ears rang out with a dull chime. He sensed there was screaming around him, but he could not hear the cries. He could see their mouths stretched open wide but no sound came to him. As he fell back into a chasm of silence, Amia tried to catch him. His white jacket was dark red with blood. His blood. Kyle looked up into the drowning eyes of Amia as she cradled his head on her lap. He couldn’t hear what she was saying. He could read her lips, though, and she was sobbing, over and over again, “Please don’t leave me!”

  Kyle wished he could tell her he wouldn’t, but he knew he would be lying. He felt his lungs fill with moisture, and his breathing became laboured. Painful. He wanted to tell her she would be okay. He wanted to tell her that it didn’t hurt that much.

  He felt her hand stroke his hair as his breathing began to fade. It was like the first touch of God. She screamed out for help before l
ooking back down into his eyes. He tried to give a reassuring smile. Maybe to try and coax one more smile from her, as that was the last thing he wanted to see before the darkness came. It came too soon.

  Epilogue

  Two months after the Bechet Matric Ball, Captain sat on the verandah of his home. He was hot, and sweat made his T-shirt stick to his back. Before, Captain would have been sitting in the shade with no shirt on. But after he awoke in hospital, everything changed. He hated seeing his wounds. His tattoos disgusted him. The scar in his neck reminded him of stolen breath.

  The street was quiet. There was no activity – no cars or foot traffic. A ghost town. He had a beer mug next to him, filled with Oros and ice-cubes. He took a big gulp and wished it was the golden nectar of beer in the glass. He longed for the bitter fizz of an ice-cold Castle. But he pushed the desire away and put the mug back on the table, next to a small pile of papers.

  According to his mother, Captain had awoken the very same moment that Kyle died. He did not believe that. Sure, he did wake for good on the same day that Kyle was killed, but to say it was the exact moment was just the romantic notion of an old woman.

  The last sixty days had been the longest of his life. Every breath he took felt as if it was oxygen stolen from the lungs of Kyle and Jimmy. It was unfair. He was the evil one. Jimmy and Kyle were innocent. He was the one that should be dead. Not them. He deserved to be in the ground. He and Spider. The moment he was able to think a coherent thought after he awoke, he’d told the remaining Godfathers of Spider’s betrayal. The police had yet to find his body. But knowing Spider had been made to pay for his betrayal gave Captain little comfort.

  He felt the tears starting to stir when he saw a blur of movement walking towards him. She wore jeans and a T-shirt. And a black cap with a red liverbird embroidered on it with two orange flames on either side. Captain would know Kyle’s cap anywhere.