Entwined

by Cheryl S. Ntumy

  I raise my eyes to his. “Ntatemogolo?”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then believe me when I say this Puppetmaster will be brought to justice. But not through your brand of vigilantism. Through the proper procedures, by the proper authorities. Do you believe this?”

  Is he joking? If the “proper authorities” were so effective, the Puppetmaster would never have survived this long.

  My grandfather throws up his hands in surrender. “I don’t know what to say to you. Where is the girl who used to respect her elders? Is it this telepathy that makes you think you know better? Is it that friend of yours, with powers you don’t even understand? You trust him more than you trust your own blood?”

  I’m dismayed by his sudden outburst, and my heart twists with guilt. “No, of course not! I trust you, I just don’t trust those traditional doctors!”

  He gets to his feet. “Do what you want, then. Your path is your own. If it leads you into darkness…” He shrugs, washing his hands of me, and returns to the consultation room.

  I hear the car pull up outside and the door slam.

  “How is she?” asks Rakwena, as soon as he enters the house. He hands me a clean shirt. “From Lebz.”

  “She’s fine.” My voice trembles.

  “Connie?” Rakwena takes my hand. “Was it bad? With your grandfather?”

  I nod dumbly, tears stinging my eyes.

  “He’ll get over it.”

  I don’t think so. I’ve screwed up tonight, more than all the rest of my mistakes put together, and I don’t know how to fix it. I pull my hands of out Rakwena’s and wipe my eyes. “We should take her home.”

  He gets up and goes to knock on the door of the consultation room, then steps inside. I take the chance to slip off my stained shirt and put on the clean one. A minute later he emerges with Rose in his arms. She’s awake, but just barely.

  “Hey.” I give her a bright smile. “How do you feel?”

  “Terrible,” she mutters, but then the edges of her mouth turn up a little, and I know she’ll be OK.

  Ntatemogolo doesn’t even look at me as we leave. I stuff the old shirt into the bag I left on the floor of Rakwena’s car. I sms Lebz for directions to the house, then coach Rose on the story we’re going to spin for her parents. I spend the entire journey chattering to her to keep her spirits up, but I can’t stop thinking about the look of utter disappointment on my grandfather’s face.

  Rose lives in a nice, large house in Block 7, surrounded by a high brick wall. Rakwena carries her to the gate while I ring the intercom.

  “Yes?” The woman sounds upset and impatient.

  “Hi. I’m Connie, I’m here to drop Rose –”

  The gate slides open and a woman comes rushing out in her pyjamas. “Rose! Where the hell have you been? Didn’t I tell you not to go – oh, Jesus Lord in heaven!” she gasps, when she sees her daughter in Rakwena’s arms.

  “Hi, Mama,” Rose whispers.

  “Hi? What happened to you? Bring her inside, quickly!”

  We follow her into the house and Rakwena deposits Rose on the brown plush sofa.

  “We found her in the parking lot at Riverwalk,” I explain. “She fainted, and we couldn’t find her friends anywhere so we thought we should bring her home.”

  “Thank you.” The woman looks at us with narrowed eyes. “Do you go to Syringa?”

  I nod. “My name is Connie Bennett.”

  The woman peers anxiously into her daughter’s face. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop hanging out with that Amantle? That girl is nothing but trouble. And you shouldn’t have gone out today – you’re obviously still sick!”

  Rakwena clears his throat. “Well, we should probably get going.”

  “Yes, thank you,” says Rose’s mother, but she’s not paying attention to us any more. “Rose, where’s your necklace?”

  Rose lowers her gaze. “I lost it.”

  “Thank God,” her mother mutters under her breath, and Rakwena and I let ourselves out.

  “All’s well that ends well,” he chirps as we get back into the car.

  “And what ended well, exactly?”

  “Your goal was to get Rose out,” he reminds me. “And she’s out.”

  He’s right. It wasn’t a complete disaster.

  “Do you want to go back and look for the necklace?”

  I shake my head. “I’m pretty sure Amantle has it. Mark my words – by Monday it’ll be around the neck of some other poor girl. Rose is out, but someone else will take her place.”

  “You don’t have to be so pessimistic.”

  “Realistic,” I counter. “But we’ll worry about that later. We need to get home.”

  By the time we reach my house, it’s after ten. Dad’s Volvo is in the driveway.

  “Wish me luck,” I say as I climb out of the car.

  “Good luck.” Rakwena grins at me. “Connie, you did a good thing today. No matter what else happened, don’t forget that.”

  For a moment I feel a little better. “Thanks, Lizzie.” I laugh at his scowl and wave, then stand watching until his car is out of sight. Then I summon all my courage and walk towards the house.

  The lights are on and the door is unlocked. I open it and walk inside. Dad is sitting at the dining table. Even though I told him I was going out for coffee with my friends, I know he expected me home by nine, latest.

  “Hi, Dad. Sorry I’m late.”

  He looks at me and his eyes widen. “My God! Look at you!” He leaps to his feet and comes over to mother me.

  I cringe. “It’s not that bad.”

  “Not that bad? Malebogo said I should be prepared, but this…”

  My heart lifts, and something like hope stirs in my chest. “Lebz called you?”

  “Of course, to let me know about the sweet stray dog you which turned out to be vicious and attacked you. Honestly, Connie, what have I told you about stray animals?” He clucks over my bruises. “She said Rakwena took you to the emergency room. I hope they gave you something in case the dog was rabid.”

  My body goes weak with relief. “They did. They were very thorough.” Bless you, Lebz! “They gave me some painkillers, cleaned me up. I’m not going to die just yet.”

  Dad shakes his head at me, his eyes full of concern. “You shouldn’t be so cavalier about your health, Connie.”

  I smile. “It was just a dog, Dad. I’m all good. You should see Rakwena – it got his leg. He has really cool bite marks.”

  Dad frowns. “I hope he’s all right.”

  “He’s fine. Hey, Dad, if you don’t mind I want to take a shower and go to bed.”

  He wants to say something. He wants to say a lot of things, about how I should be more careful, about the fact that all we have is each other, but he doesn’t want to come across as the overbearing, uncool father. “Sure, love. Night.”

  I stand on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Night, Dad.”

  I must remember to send Lebz a thank you sms. What would I do without her? If this ordeal has taught me one thing, it’s that I have really great friends. How many people can say that their buddies would stick with them through premonitions, telepathy, bewitched necklaces and zombie twelve-year-olds? Not many. So I’m an idiot. But I’m a very lucky idiot, and I’ll never forget it. I hope.

  Chapter Sixteen

  My plan is to stay in for the rest of the weekend and allow my body to recuperate, but Lebz has other ideas. She turns up on my doorstep at eight on Saturday morning to find me watching cartoons with a bowl of muesli in my lap.

  “I need new sneakers,” she insists, but I’m sure it’s just an excuse. It’s end of the month and she’s just got pocket money, and as usual she wants to blow it all in one day.

  “Have fun.” I turn my gaze back to the TV screen.

  She rolls her eyes. “Connie, are you going to let your best friend wander around the shops alone?”

  “Yep.”

  �
��In this terrible heat?”

  “Yep.”

  “Connie!”

  “Don’t ‘Connie’ me,” I reply impatiently. “It’s the middle of summer and I’m sore all over. The last thing I want to do is go traipsing up and down looking for shoes! Can’t you do it next weekend?”

  “No! Look.” She extends one jean-clad leg and wiggles her foot. Her sneakers are scuffed, sure, and the colour is faded, but there are no holes.

  “They look fine to me.”

  She makes a little exasperated sound in her throat, snatches my bowl away and leans close to me. “You really don’t look that bad. You can hardly see the bruises. I know you’re upset about last night, but hiding at home isn’t going to make you feel better.”

  “Yes, it is.” I take back my bowl, shove a spoonful of muesli into my mouth, and chew in defiance.

  “Coward.”

  “Shopaholic.”

  An hour later I’m walking through the Mall with Lebz, sweating profusely. My shirt sticks to my back and my pants stick to my thighs and I feel like running into the nearest supermarket and jumping into a freezer.

  I follow Lebz into a shop and pretend to pay attention as she evaluates the shoe collection, but I can’t stop thinking about last night. The necklace keeps flashing into my mind. I see it coming off Rose’s neck in my hand, and then I see my hand press against the tree. I try to make the connection, to remember the exact moment when the necklace slipped out of my grasp, but I don’t remember feeling it drop. There were so many other things demanding my attention – the footsteps behind me, the pain, trying to get enough oxygen moving through my body, Rakwena’s back with Rose sprawled over his shoulder. My hands were red and raw and painful, and that’s all I remember.

  “I think I need to try them in a size six,” says Lebz, drawing me back to the present.

  I look down at the tiny leather ankle boot on her left foot. We came here for sneakers, but I know we’re going to leave with bags full of everything but. I can’t stand still any longer – I need to walk a bit and get some air. “I’m gonna go get some airtime.”

  “Don’t take too long; I’ll be done in a minute.”

  I step outside and walk briskly towards the supermarket. I walk aimlessly through the aisles. I’m not looking for anything, I just want to clear my head. I’m somewhere in the baking aisle when I feel an uncomfortable prickle at the back of my neck. Instinctively I turn around, and almost gasp out loud.

  “Hello, Connie.” Thuli smiles his lazy smile. He’s standing so close to me; he must have snuck up on me while I was lost in thought. “It’s so good to see you again.”

  “What the hell do you want?” I snap, taking a step backwards. Ugh, just looking at him makes my skin crawl. I can’t believe I ever liked this fool.

  “It’s so difficult to get you alone,” he goes on. “Those friends of yours… and him. Always there. Hovering. Doesn’t he suffocate you?” He raises his hand and runs a finger along the side of one of the shelves.

  The sight of his hand brings on a flashback of him trying to get my clothes off in that creepy bedroom of his. I can’t look at him any longer. I turn around without a word and start to walk away, but he grabs my elbow and swings me back around to face him.

  “Wait. Please.” His eyes are boring into mine as if he thinks he’ll find the answers to all of life’s questions hidden in my pupils. “I want to apologise for the way I acted at the party. It was unacceptable. I’m not usually like that, you know. You just… you do something to me.”

  My breath is coming in short gasps. Out of the corner of my eye I scan the area, but for some reason we’re all alone in the aisle. “Let go of me.”

  “I’m not trying to hurt you.” That disgusting smile again. “Just say you accept my apology. I’d like us to be friends again.”

  “We were never friends,” I hiss, jerking my arm out of his grip. “You’re a psycho and a pervert, and you’re lucky I didn’t call the police and have you charged for attempted rape.”

  “Connie, come on –”

  “Stay away from me, Thuli.” I back away slowly. “I’m serious. If you touch me again, you’ll regret it.”

  “What will you do?” He seems genuinely curious. What does he expect me to say? I’ll work my magic and turn him into a toad? If only I could.

  I click my tongue in disgust and hurry out of the aisle as a woman with a trolley comes in. I dodge her just in time, mumble a quick apology and race out of the supermarket as if the hounds of hell are after me. Lebz is just emerging from the shoe store with a bag.

  “There you are!” she says cheerfully. “How about some ice cream? I’m about to burst into flames here.”

  I glance back at the supermarket, but there’s no sign of the freak hunter. “I just ran into Thuli.”

  “Huh?” Lebz almost drops her bag. “Where? In the supermarket?”

  I nod and pull her out of the path of other shoppers. “He just came out of nowhere. I turned around and there he was, like a ghost or something.” I shudder at the memory. “He freaks me out, Lebz.”

  “Of course. I can’t believe he had the nerve to speak to you after what he did!”

  We start towards the ice cream machine. “Thuli has plenty of nerve. That’s the problem.”

  “What did he say?”

  I roll my eyes. “Some crap about wanting to apologise, wanting us to be friends. Ugh, he’s just disgusting.”

  “What’s he doing here, anyway?” asks Lebz, while I request two strawberry and vanilla cones.

  I shrug and fish in my pocket for coins. “Shopping, I guess.”

  Lebz raises a sceptical eyebrow. “Thuli? Shop? Here?”

  “I don’t know, Lebz, maybe he was meeting friends or something.”

  “Maybe,” she says doubtfully.

  I take the cones and hand her one. “What, you think he’s stalking me?”

  “You never know, that’s all I’m saying.”

  I lick my ice cream, savouring the cold sweetness on my tongue. “I think that’s a bit much, even for a freak hunter. It must have been a coincidence.”

  “Maybe,” says Lebz in that tone again.

  I laugh. The ice cream has helped ease the stupor caused by the heat, and I’m determined not to let my run-in with Psycho of the Year spoil my day. “Are we done?”

  “Done?” Lebz is appalled. “I need sneakers, Connie.”

  “Then why did you buy boots?”

  “They were on sale,” she replies.

  Ah. Well, then there’s no way she could have let them slip through her fingers. Sometimes I wonder what Lebz would do if her father’s business went bust, or her parents suddenly decided that pocket money was a silly Western idea that had no place in their home.

  “Let’s go to Game,” she says.

  Sigh. The things I do for my friends.

  “I’m fine, Rakwena.”

  He doesn’t listen. His large hands press gingerly against the side of my head.

  “Ouch.”

  “See? You’re not fine.” He takes my hand and studies it. “The cut’s healing.”

  “Cuts generally do that.” We’re sitting on the sofa in his house on Sunday afternoon and he’s determined to play doctor. “How are you feeling? You got battered pretty badly. That kick…”

  “I’m a big boy,” he replies with a grin. “Have you talked to your grandfather?”

  “Nope.” I ignore the little twinge in my chest. “I try not to bother people who have made it clear that they don’t want to speak to me.”

  “Connie.” He’s using his sensible grown-up voice. “He doesn’t want you putting yourself in danger.”

  “Blah blah.” I pull my hand away. “How’s your mother?”

  Rakwena sighs and leans back into the cushions. “She’s OK. How’s Rose?”

  “Better.” I sigh. “I saw Thuli yesterday.”

  His brow wrinkles in sudden concern. “He didn’t try anything, did he?”

  “No; we
were in public. He crept up behind me.” I shudder at the memory, then catch the stormy expression on Rakwena’s face. “He didn’t do anything. He just wanted to… apologise.”

  Rakwena snorts. “Apologise? I hope you told him to go to hell.”

  “I got out of there as fast as I could. I think he got the message.”

  “He’d better,” he growls, his hands clenching into fists. “Or I’ll have to show him what I do to rubbish like him.”

  “Yes, and while you’re at it you can give him a breakdown of all your special skills.” I sigh again. “Come on – don’t let him provoke you. You know how much he wants proof of your gift, and who knows what he’ll do if he gets it? We should both stay out of his way.”

  Rakwena grunts. “I suppose so.” He leans back and puts his arms along the back of the sofa. “I really think you need to talk to your grandfather. Not just about what happened with Rose, but about the Puppetmaster. He must have some more information by now.”

  “Maybe. I don’t really know if –” The premonition hits hard, knocking the breath out of my chest. My stomach turns as the images fill my head. Rose’s necklace, tossed carelessly into a box of odds and ends in the back of a truck. The box jerks, the necklace falls. Then I see bags of fertiliser in the back of the truck, being carried out one by one. One of them knocks the necklace onto the ground, where it is trampled into the mud. And then a small hand, holding the necklace up to the light…

  I double over, a wave of nausea washing over me, and then it’s gone. I leap to my feet. “Let’s go.”

  Rakwena is right behind me. “What did you see?” He unlocks the car and we both jump inside.

  “Rose’s necklace.”

  “Where?” The engine roars to life.

  “I don’t know.”

  Rakwena stops halfway through putting on his seatbelt. “You don’t know? Then where exactly are we rushing off to?”

  “I’ll know when we get there,” I tell him. “Come on, hurry! I can still sense it, but if that kid picks it up it’s over. Drive!”

  He obeys without another word. This is why I like Rakwena – he trusts me even when I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. When we get to the end of the road I look both ways and let my instincts guide me. “Left. Then straight on until the robots. Somewhere with lots of houses. Crowded, with a gravel road. And lots of kids around.”