Entwined

by Cheryl S. Ntumy

  Finally he hears me. He raises his head, his brow furrowed in confusion, then drops me so fast I fall to the floor in a heap. I look up at him. His eyes are wide with horror and guilt. The blue in them has diminished a little, but it’s not completely gone.

  “Sorry,” he gasps.

  “What’s the matter with you?” I demand, crouching on the floor, afraid he’ll grab me again. “Didn’t you hear me say no?”

  “I… I didn’t hear anything,” he whispers. “I thought… I was…” He shakes his head twice, then runs to the window. “We have to get out. We have to get out now.” He pushes against the window, trying to force it open, but nothing happens. “Damn it! I can’t be in here with you. Do you understand? I’m not… myself.”

  I remain on the floor. “It’s something in this room, isn’t it? He’s done something to make you like this. Do you know what it is?”

  He’s not even listening. He looks around frantically for an escape route then, finding none, he flees to the bathroom. He pulls the key out of the door and flings it onto the bed, then slams the door. “Lock me in.” His voice is muffled through the door.

  I get up slowly. “What?”

  “Lock me in!” he shouts. “You have to lock me in. Come on, quickly. I should be fine by morning. It’ll wear off, I think…”

  I walk to the bed and pick up the key. The panic is gone, but this isn’t my Rakwena, and I don’t know what this blue-eyed stranger is capable of. “There must be something we can do.”

  “Just lock the door, Connie!” he bellows. “Now!”

  I leap into action and lock the door. “This is stupid. You can break it down.”

  “I don’t have the energy.” His voice is calmer now. “Yes, this is better. It’s not so strong now. Move back. Just stay away from the door.”

  I sit on the edge of the bed, watching the door. I don’t understand what’s going on. Whatever is making Rakwena act so strangely doesn’t seem to affect me at all. Did the Puppetmaster target Rakwena specifically? But what does he hope to gain? Maybe he’s just the kind of person who would walk into a nuclear power plant and go, “Ooh, I wonder what this button does?”

  Rakwena has fallen silent. I don’t think he’s sleeping, but there’s still no light coming from under the door.

  “Rakwena?”

  If he’s awake, he doesn’t want to talk to me. Usually I’m the one who can calm him down and make the blue light fade, but this time I’m only making things worse. My thoughts flash back to that crazy kiss, and my cheeks burn. I know Rakwena is under some kind of spell – he would never have tried something like that in his right mind. Lebz has been telling me for ages that he’s into me, and sometimes I think she might be right, but I’ve always been secure in the knowledge that he’ll never make a move unless I give him a sign. It’s an unspoken agreement between us. But tonight…

  I shake my head and lie back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. I’m not going to lie. The kiss was spectacular, but there are just too many unknowns in this equation. How can I date a guy who keeps so much of himself locked away? Besides, we have a rock-solid friendship, the kind I’ve always wanted. He gets me. And despite his secrets, I trust him to have my back. I’m not prepared to risk that just to satisfy our hormonal impulses.

  But now I have to wonder if I’m the only one who feels that way. Maybe what happened just now revealed his true desires. Maybe being locked in a room with a huge bed was too much temptation.

  I turn onto my side. I wonder what kind of girls he’s dated, if any. The thought makes my stomach turn. I don’t like the idea of Rakwena with other girls. There aren’t any girls who are even in his league. I don’t want him wasted on some idiot like Kelly.

  I turn onto my other side and face the bathroom door. It feels wrong to be separated from him this way, as if he’s a dangerous animal and I’m a helpless victim. I can’t help feeling that if I could just sit with him for a while, I could absorb his power and turn him back into the Rakwena I’m used to. But what if I can’t? What if I unlock the door and he’s completely out of control? He could hurt me without even realising it.

  I lie awake for a long time before finally drifting off to sleep.

  The light is too bright. I sit up in bed and wince, rubbing my arm. I slept curled up on the bed with my arm under me and the waistband of my jeans digging into my flesh. I can see a glimpse of the sky through the gap in the curtains – it’s morning. I get up and walk to the bathroom.

  “Rakwena?”

  “Morning.”

  I reach out to turn the key. “Is it safe?”

  “Ja.” When I open the door I find him slumped against the tub. His eyes are back to brown, and weary. He gets to his feet, sways a little and grabs the wall for support. “I’m fine,” he says, before I can open my mouth. “Just hungry.”

  I put my arm around his waist and help him to the bed. “Maybe you need to get some sleep.”

  “We have to go.” He sinks onto the edge of the bed. “Try the door.”

  I roll my eyes as I make my way to the door. “Do you really think he’d be nice enough to –” The door swings inwards. I stare at it for a second, hardly believing my luck, then peer into the corridor. The house is quiet. I beckon to Rakwena and he follows me into the corridor.

  We move slowly, quietly, afraid of waking our host, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone around. The corridor is dark and dusty and the wall-to-wall carpet has been removed. Strange thing to do in the middle of the night.

  “Connie.”

  I look up and stifle a gasp. We’re standing in the doorway of what used to be the living room. The leather chairs, coffee table, thick rug – gone. The room is bare, the grey, unpainted concrete covered in a coating of dust. The paint is peeling off the walls and cobwebs hang from the ceiling.

  My stomach swoops into my shoes. “Oh, crap.”

  Rakwena’s fingers close around mine and he leads me back into the corridor. One by one we check the rooms. They’re empty, of course. The last room we enter is the one we’ve just left. My skin prickles as I peer into it from behind Rakwena. The bed is gone, and so is everything else.

  “This is freaky,” I whisper, staring into the emptiness.

  He doesn’t respond. We head back to the living room, the squeak of our sneakers echoing through the silence, and emerge in the deserted foyer. The piano, the calendar… vanished, like a forgotten dream. Rakwena opens the front door. On the dusty doorstep are our phones and his keys. Amantle’s phone is gone.

  “He’s taken the girls.”

  Rakwena shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I think he sent them home. But he’s definitely gone.”

  I gulp, bending over to pick up our things. “As in gone from the house or gone from the country?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Crap. Damn it, Rakwena, we were so close!”

  “Were we?” He takes his phone and keys from me and pockets them without looking at them. “I don’t know. Maybe we never really had a chance.”

  I glance at my phone. I have thirteen missed calls and nineteen messages.

  Rakwena looks at me. “Your grandfather?”

  I nod. Suddenly I feel like my brain is about to shut down. “But I have to do something first.” I take a deep breath to steady my nerves, then dial my father’s number.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  There’s a knock on my bedroom door. I ignore it and turn onto my back, keeping my gaze on the novel in my hands.

  “Connie?” Lebz opens the door a crack, then, seeing that I’m awake, lets herself in. She’s carrying one of her oversized handbags. “Your dad is still pissed off. You should have seen the look he gave me when I asked if you could come to my place!” She bounces onto the edge of the bed. “What are you reading?”

  “I don’t even know.” I click my tongue, annoyed, and fling the book on the floor. “I’m sick of reading. There’s nothing else to do since he confiscated my movies.”

  Lebz wh
istles. “I didn’t think he meant it, you know?”

  That makes two of us. When I got home from the Puppetmaster’s house, it was close to eight in the morning. Dad was waiting at the front door with Ntatemogolo, both of them livid. For the first time ever they were in total agreement. Rakwena and I were frogmarched into the living room and subjected to a long, fierce speech. There was no mention of puppetmasters or magic. We cooked up a story about driving to a party, coming upon some tsotsis and getting locked in a storeroom. Dad blamed Rakwena, of course, and Ntatemogolo backed him up. I expected my grandfather to be a little more forgiving, but he seemed thrilled that Dad had finally found his inner hardcore parent. I thought he was going to take off his belt and whip me.

  So here I am, a week later, grounded indefinitely with no hope of parole. No movies, no phone, and most importantly, no Rakwena for the rest of the holidays.

  I sit up, eager for news. “So what’s going on? Have you talked to Rose?”

  Lebz nods. “Emily is fine, Refilwe and Laone are, too. Amantle’s still in hospital. She hasn’t woken up.”

  I bite my lip. “And her parents? Do they still think it’s drugs?”

  Lebz nodded. “Your grandfather says it’s for the best. The truth is complicated.”

  I shake my head. “So the bastard gets away after everything he did?”

  “Not quite,” says Lebz, with a smile. She opens her bag and pulls out the latest GC Chronicle.

  I cringe. “Do I even want to know?”

  She shakes the paper out and shows me the front page. The headline shrieks: “Mystery Magician Preys on Youth”. Below the words is a rough sketch of someone who looks a good deal like the Puppetmaster.

  “Ntatemogolo went to the press?” I cry, appalled that he would do something so irresponsible.

  “Of course not,” says Lebz. “He just started a little rumour. The journalist did the rest. It wasn’t hard to find out about the girls getting sick, and the mysterious traditional doctor. The story makes him out to be a power-hungry paedophile, and there are a whole lot of people who came out claiming they had seen him and he bewitched their children. His name’s even in the story. He’s a wanted criminal now. His face is everywhere!”

  “This face, maybe.” I snatch the paper away and crumple it up, the sight of him making my insides squirm. “But he’s a sorcerer – he can just get another one.”

  Lebz’s smile fades. “Connie, I know you’re in a crappy mood, OK, but can you try not to take it out on me?”

  “Sorry,” I grumble, handing back the paper. “But it’s true. He could be on the other side of the planet by now. Or maybe he can teleport into another galaxy or time travel or God knows what. We’ll never find him!”

  “Connie.” Her voice is softer now, sympathetic. Not that it makes me feel any better. “You saved the girls. He can’t come back here. And maybe the police will send the info to other countries so they can be on the lookout, too.”

  “Please,” I scoff. “He said he had a plan. Something big. Ma-fourteen were just a test. He’s out there, getting ready to do something worse. We were in his house for a whole night, Lebz. A whole night, and we were completely bloody useless!”

  “OK, stop it.” She grabs me by the shoulders, nails digging into my arms. “You’re sixteen! You’re not a superhero. You did your part; you saved the girls and they owe you their lives, so stop whining. You can’t do everything!”

  She has a point. I know I’ve been lousy company over the last week. I’m pissed off at the world in general, but right now John Bloody Kubega and Conyza Idiot Bennett are at the top of my list of enemies. Ray Bennett is a close second. Lerumo Raditladi is third. No, he should be second. At least Dad can plead ignorance. Ntatemogolo is just being impossible. I know I was reckless, but I didn’t have a lot of options. Since when do people get punished for doing the right thing?

  “Sorry, Lebz. Eish, I’m a mess right now. I hate being stuck in here!”

  Lebz gives me a sly smile. “That’s not all that’s bothering you, is it? You miss Lizard.”

  I roll my eyes and laugh for good measure. “You’re funny. Have you seen him?”

  She looks way too smug for my liking. “Wiki was with him the other day. He’s fine. Very quiet, though. He’s obviously missing you.”

  Twang! There goes my heart, like a taut guitar string. I think about Rakwena a lot. I also think about that kiss – and then I catch myself and think about something safer, like mopping the kitchen. I come up with a diplomatic answer. “We went through a lot together.”

  “Uh-huh.” Lebz pretends to admire her bright purple nails, but she looks at me out of the corner of her eye. “Well, don’t worry. Three more weeks till school starts.”

  “Don’t remind me,” I moan, but I can’t wait. This has been the festive season from hell, and I do miss Rakwena. I’m glad Lebz and Wiki are hanging out with him – I hate thinking of him all alone during the holidays. I can’t email because I’m not allowed to use the damn computer. My dad even disabled the wireless internet connection and locked the damn modem in his room. I had no idea he could be so underhanded.

  Then it hits me – letters. I’m not good at writing by hand any more, but at least my writing doesn’t resemble a doctor’s note. “Lebz, will you do me a favour?”

  “Sure, babes.” She’s standing in front of my mirror now, fixing her hair.

  “Can you deliver a letter to Rakwena?”

  She turns around, her face lighting up. “Like a secret love letter? Like in those old movies? So romantic!”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” I grin, feeling hopeful and happy for the first time in days.

  Dear Lizzie,

  My father has become a dictator. Can you believe he won’t let me watch movies? How are you? We never talked about what happened to you at the Puppetmaster’s place. I’m not angry. I just wanna know what’s up.

  Christmas is coming, bah humbug. Gonna see your mum? I think you should, she must get lonely without you. Stopping here – Lebz will break her neck trying to read over my shoulder. You’d better reply!

  Connie

  Dear Common North American Weed,

  It’s really good to finally hear from you. I’ve been calling, but I figured your dad took your phone because you didn’t call back. He’s just doing what he thinks is best. Don’t argue and don’t do anything stupid. You want him to trust you again.

  About the other thing. I missed my meds, and that crap Kubega gave me made me worse. Bet he knew that would happen. I’m sorry I scared you. I hope you know I’d never hurt you. I shouldn’t have taken you to the Puppetmaster in the first place. Maybe your dad’s right – I’m trouble. Well, it will never happen again.

  I’ll see my mother at Christmas. Hang in there. And stop calling me Lizzie.

  Rakwena

  Hey Lizzie (OK, sorry)

  Bloody Puppetmaster. If I ever find him, he’s dead. And you are NOT trouble! I’m stuck alone in Gabs. Wiki’s gone to Cote d’Ivoire, Lebz is at the cattle post and Dad’s decided to “cook” Christmas dinner. He’ll burn everything and we’ll end up going out to eat. Tomorrow I’m going to Ntatemogolo’s farm to bond with the relatives who call me Connie Coconut. Fun. Lebz won’t be back till next week, so it’ll almost be New Year by the time you get this. Merry Christmas, Liz! Say hi to your mother, if she remembers me.

  Connie

  Dear Rakwena,

  Happy New Year! ϑ Where are you? Spending New Year with your mother? Lebz is going to one of Kelly’s infamous New Year’s Eve bashes. I’m actually jealous, that’s how bored I am. Please reply. I’m getting worried.

  Connie

  “You’re in Form Five now.” Dad looks at me over the rim of his coffee mug with a gleeful grin. “How does it feel?”

  I chew a mouthful of Corn Flakes and consider. “Exactly like Form Four.”

  His smile falters. “Well, it’s only your first day. We should really start thinking about your options, you know,” he ad
ds, getting to his feet. “I know you’re not big on the idea of Form Six, but it’ll help you get into universities overseas.”

  I finish my cereal and shake my head. “You can’t afford to send me overseas, and no one in their right mind will give me a scholarship.”

  “Connie, don’t be so negative.” He goes to the kitchen to wash his mug and returns with a frown. “You’re a bright girl.”

  No, not really, but I’m not getting into that with him. It feels great to be in my uniform again. I never thought I’d miss that green shirt, but you know what they say about absence and the heart. “Dad, there’s still time. I don’t even know what I want to study, let alone where. Can we talk about this later?” Like in a couple of years?

  “Of course, love.” He plants a kiss on my forehead. He’s been doing that a lot lately – I think he feels a bit guilty for locking me up for the past month. “I’ve got to run. See you later!”

  “Bye, Dad. Have a good day.” I wave from the doorway. Anyone walking past would think, aw, sweet. What a doting daughter. But I wait until Dad’s car has disappeared down the road and then I dash back to the table, where my phone is waiting. The poor thing hasn’t been used in ages and is clearly feeling neglected. When I switch it on the light flashes happily, thrilled to be back in action.

  I reset the time and date and then make my first call of the year. My hands are actually shaking, I’m so nervous. The phone rings. And rings. And then… goes to voicemail. “Rakwena, what the hell?” I yell into the phone. “This is not funny! I’ve been trying to get hold of you for two weeks! Call me back!”

  I hear the sound of the front gate creaking open, and a few minutes later Lebz lets herself in. “Hey, Connie!”

  “He’s still not answering his phone,” I tell her. “God, I hope he’s OK!”

  “Of course he’s OK – he’s Lizard,” she replies, with utter certainty. “Didn’t I tell you Rra Sechaba said he’s been going back and forth to his mother?”

  “Yes, but he could call me when he’s around, couldn’t he?” I’m really worried now. It’s bad enough that I haven’t been able to see him, but the lack of communication is out of character. I can’t help wondering whether he’s in some kind of trouble.