Swift Justice

by Meredith Taylor

  “What are you guys doing?” Tumi demanded as he walked closer, being careful to avoid the wet sections of the floor. The cleaner, Lydia, looked at Tumi in surprise. She was always quiet and dutiful, putting up with whatever the spoiled guys at Nova put her through. She motioned to Tumi with her hand to not say anything, and looked on pleadingly as Tumi stood with his arms folded staring at Leo.

  Leo boomed out, almost provokingly, to Tumi, “I’m just being forgetful today. Why, do you have a problem?” Leo stood in the center of the hallway, right in the middle of the wet section of the floor, and sneered back at Tumi.

  Tumi wanted to say a million things. All of the months of putting up with the rude behavior of guys like Leo, Hein and Sylas had made him finally reach his breaking point. And to see them disrespect someone who worked as hard as Lydia was pushing him over the edge. He said, “Can’t you see that Lydia is cleaning here? Why do you have to walk over the wet floor when you could go around it?”

  Lydia’s eyes were increasingly nervous as she looked from Tumi to Leo. Tumi could see that she was feeling tortured, and he finally started to realise why: if Leo, or any of the other guys, complained about her, she stood to lose her job. That’s why she was so prepared to take the abuse from guys like that. Tumi just shook his head as Lydia’s gaze moved to her feet.

  The few seconds of awkward silence finally ended when Hein walked up to Tumi, a look of intrigue on his face. “That cleaning lady… Lydia, you say? Her job is to clean these floors. Leo is just having a bit of fun. Are you having fun, cleaning lady?” he asked.

  Lydia’s eyes were still lowered as she muttered, “Yes, baas.” Yes, boss.

  Hein continued, “You’re not trying to cause any trouble, are you Moketla?”

  Tumi bit his lip. He hated it when people called him by his surname, reducing him to nothing more than the family he came from. He looked once more at Lydia, who seemed completely frightened. Tumi couldn’t put her through any more than she had already gone through. He said, “No trouble. Just go. Have your fun somewhere else.”

  Hein snorted a laugh as he continued staring at Tumi, and motioned with a flick of his head for his friends to follow him. As they left the hall, he turned to look back and called to Tumi, “You’re already on thin ice here, Moketla. Don’t make enemies of us. If you’d rather go and hang out with the cleaners, then go to the township; you have no place at Nova.”

  Tumi bit his tongue as he watched the guys leave, and walked to his room. As he passed Lydia, he asked her, “Are you okay?” The woman’s face was lined with wrinkles. Years of struggle and hardship were visible in her eyes. Her dark brown skin looked ashen, and there was a patch of grey hair at each of her temples even though she was still relatively young.

  Lydia shot daggers with her eyes, and said, “I can take care of myself.” With that, she grabbed her mop and bucket and left the hall.

  Tumi walked towards him room with his hands in fists, thinking about how terribly Hein and his friends treated other people. He wished he could tell them exactly how he felt. He wished he could do something about their attitude. But when someone is as connected as Hein, they’re basically untouchable. Nothing Tumi could do would make any difference. He opened the door to his room to hear gentle jazz music coming from inside. His roommate, Neville, was sitting on his bed at the far side of the room, and Tumi collapsed onto his bed in a huff.

  “What’s up, roommate?” Neville asked, his usual jovial demeanor making Tumi feel guilty for walking into the room with so much on his mind.

  “Just been one of those days, you know?” Tumi said, not wanting to talk about his encounter with Hein.

  Neville stood up, his loose open-button shirt falling back to expose the peace sign on his t-shirt underneath. Neville had always been a spirit from another era, and his carefree, optimistic attitude was often infectious enough to brighten even the most stressful of Tumi’s days. Neville reached for a cup and poured a foul-smelling green liquid out of a teapot into the cup. “Have some of this calming tea and tell me all about it.” He handed the cup to Tumi, who pretended to be grateful for it despite the smell already turning his stomach.

  “It’s just been stressful lately trying to get through final year with good grades. I’m not sure if Prof. Nkuna was very impressed with my performance at mock court. I practiced so hard, studied so many cases, and then that annoying ass comes in with his convoluted argument to have the star witness dismissed. I’ve come up with a hundred counterarguments in the last few days, but I choked in the moment and couldn’t think of anything concrete.”

  “He’s handsome though,” Neville smiled, sipping on his own cup of tea as he eyed Tumi’s untouched cup. “Edgar Boatwright. That’s a hot name. Sophisticated. And that accent is pretty sexy too, don’t you think?”

  Tumi shifted on the bed, and almost spilled the tea that he was trying to keep as far away from his nose as possible. “I wouldn’t go that far, Neville. He’s arrogant and he’s clearly just another one of the spoiled, entitled guys we see around here every day. Do we really need more of those at Ridgemont?”

  Neville laughed and raised his eyebrow, saying, “Sounds like you’ve got some very strong feelings about him. Maybe a crush disguised as annoyance?”

  Tumi felt his cheeks flush with heat. “Don’t be silly. He’s not my type. Not even remotely. He’s underhanded and his argument was sneaky. That’s not the kind of person I want to be around if I can help it.”

  Neville, clearly enjoying himself, said, “I think the lady’s protesting a bit too much. But anyway, that’s none of my business. And I know that eventually, you’ll wipe the floor with him in mock court and come out with the highest grades in the class. That’s just who you are, Tumi. You know the Constitution and the cases better than any of the rest of us. And everyone knows that you’re Prof. Nkuna’s favorite; don’t even try to deny that you know it too.”

  Tumi smiled. For the first time in a while, he was feeling a bit better. Neville tended to have that effect. After all of the stress of mock court, the annoying Edgar Boatwright, and the fact that he might have finally found his birth mother in Angela Ngcobo, his life was filled with uncertainty. At least he knew that whenever he came home to Nova, he could have a good friend to talk to and to give him some disgusting tea, which he usually gulped down in the end and which often had the effect that Neville said it would.

  Which is why it came as such a shock when Neville told Tumi his bad news: “Tumi, I have to tell you something. It’s tough to say, but it’s something I have to do. Kelly got an offer to do her master’s up at Wits, and she wants me to go with her. I put in the request to transfer a few weeks ago, and they’ve just given me the go-ahead. I have to go and be with her, even though I don’t want to leave Ridgemont. But we’re planning on moving in together and everything, and I want to make this work.”

  Tumi sat with his eyes wide open, almost not believing what he was hearing. Neville had been a constant part of what kept him functional at Ridgemont, a good friend that he could rely on to have discussions about all of the absurdity of studying at a place with so much prestige in a country as impoverished as South Africa. Neville was always there to joke with and to have a beer with when things were rough. They had been a team of outsiders at Nova. And now, Neville was leaving. Tumi sat in silence for a while, trying to wrap his mind around it, and finally said, “I understand, Neville. Kelly is a great person and the two of you are perfect together. I’m going to miss you a lot, though.” He felt himself get a bit choked up just saying the words, and got up to give his friend a hug.

  “Tell you what,” Neville said, trying to maintain good spirits, “why don’t we go to the law ball together tomorrow night? Kelly is meeting with some professors in Johannesburg, so I have an extra ticket. I’d love for you to be my date.” Neville winked at Tumi, a smile on his lips.

  Tumi wasn’t really someone who enjoyed formal events like the law ball, but for his friend Neville, he was willing to do a lo
t of things that he wouldn’t normally do. He smiled and nodded at Neville, and said, “That sounds great. I’ll have to go and rent a tux, and be a dapper date for you.”

  Neville hugged Tumi again tightly, and said, “Great! I’m glad you’ll be joining me. And you know we’ll still see each other a lot when I’m living up in Joburg. I’ll come and visit you here all the time! And we’ll have a couch waiting for you whenever you have a chance to visit us in Joburg.”

  Tumi smiled, and picked up the cup that he had put down on his desk. He gulped down the tea, tasting the bitterness on his tongue. He savored the taste, knowing that he might not get the chance to drink Neville’s herbal teas for a long time.

  Chapter 5

  The smell of French toast and fresh, strong coffee filled Edgar’s nostrils. Bright sunlight shone in through the window, the heavy white curtains already drawn. It was after noon, and Edgar’s head was pounding with a hangover from the night out with his friends at Hunter’s. The hotel he was staying at, the Lord Turnbill, was just a few blocks off campus in the lovely, quiet town of Ridgemont. The Ridgemont Valley was a popular tourist destination, and many luxurious hotels could be found near to Ridgemont University. Edgar often stayed at the Lord Turnbill when he was too drunk to drive back to his flat, which was about fifteen minutes away from the university. He sat up in the large king-sized bed and reached over to grab the cup of coffee that was waiting for him; he had a standing arrangement for breakfast to be delivered to his room at 11 a.m. if he hadn’t shown up to the hotel’s breakfast buffet in the morning. Edgar sipped on the strong, black coffee, feeling it invigorate his tired body. He could usually recover from a hangover very quickly after coffee and a few aspirin, and he was grateful that the pounding headache would soon be gone.

  The night out at Hunters had been a lot of fun, and Edgar had flirted with a particularly handsome guy named Luke the night before, but nothing had come of it. He stood up from the bed and stood in the sunlight, staring out of the window overlooking the courtyard of the Lord Turnbill. The warm sun caressed his naked, pale torso, and the freckles on his body ran all the way down to the dark blue boxer shorts that he wore. Fine red hairs covered his chest, and his green eyes drank in the stunning scene of the courtyard with its shrubs and ornate benches. He thought about how magnificent Ridgemont was, and remembered his mother in that moment. She had told him stories about her time studying at Ridgemont when she was a young woman, before she had emigrated to England three years before Edgar’s oldest brother was born. She had left the country in the dying days of apartheid, no longer able to live in a country that was suffering through so much turmoil. In England, she had met Edgar’s father, who fell in love with her striking beauty and lively personality, and they had four children together. Edgar was the youngest, and had only nine years with his mother before she died. He had always been intrigued by South Africa, by the stories she had told him about a beautiful country where the people were resilient, fighters, dreamers, and where they were visited by so much horror that, as a young woman, she saw no way for things to get any better. At that moment, as Edgar stood looking out over the courtyard of the Lord Turnbill, he wondered what his mother would say if she could see the country of her birth again. She had never returned, and Edgar had no idea why. Perhaps the memories were too painful for her. But Edgar had wanted to visit South Africa ever since he was a boy, to know the country and in that way get to know something more about his mother, the woman that he loved so much and whose death had left a hole that he never been able to fill. It was a shame that the country was so much of a disappointment for him, and that all he could think about doing now was going back to London as soon as he was done with the Constitutional Law course that he was completing for his exchange program.

  Edgar took another sip of the lukewarm bitter coffee, and placed the cup on the dresser next to the window. He walked to the en-suite bathroom and took a shower, feeling the headache disappearing slightly. He would have to shake off his hangover to meet his friends in the hotel’s restaurant at midday, something he had drunkenly promised Hein in an effort to impress him.

  Edgar got dressed and walked down to the restaurant at a few minutes after twelve, leaving behind the cold French toast which still sat untouched on the tray next to his bed. He wore a white t-shirt and jeans with a dark brown cardigan, and he styled his full red hair into a charming side parting. He saw his reflection in the mirror at the restaurant’s main entrance, wondering about his connection to the country. Was there something of South Africa in him? Was there something that made this place home to him?

  He walked into the neat room where about fifteen tables were decorated with white tablecloths and a blue vase with an arrangement of summer flowers at the center of each. Hein, Leo and Sylas were sitting at a table close to a large window which showed the courtyard beyond. Edgar walked over and greeted each one with a kiss on the cheek. “Nice to see you all this morning,” he said, forcing a smile.

  “You’re looking fresh as a daisy after all those shots you had last night,” Sylas said, pushing his thick brown hair from his face. “I thought you’d still be a wreck this morning.”

  “I’m a skilled partier, Sylas. You should know that by now,” Edgar quipped. He sat down at the table and motioned for a waiter, ordering another cup of black coffee.

  “I could tell by the way you danced on the bar last night. I thought you were going to get us thrown out,” Leo cut in. His blond hair was combed back this time, making him look meeker than usual, and his sharp chin turned up as he took a sip of tea from his cup.

  Edgar laughed at the memory, and said, trying to sound humble, “I can’t believe you let me do that! I must’ve looked such a mess.”

  “Nonsense,” Hein said. “You looked adorable.” Hein’s intense blue eyes scanned Edgar’s face, and for a second their eyes connected.

  Leo cut in again, saying, “Guess who we saw this morning… Your favorite classmate Moketla was trying to start something with us at Nova again. Honestly, the best part of my year so far was watching you destroy him in mock court. I can’t wait for the next session. He’s so smug, it’s fun seeing him being taught a lesson. He’s got a chip on his shoulder, that one. Thinks he’s royalty or something. He’ll get himself in some nasty trouble if he’s so uppity all the time.”

  Everyone smiled at Leo’s words except for Edgar. He felt conflicted. On the one hand, Edgar had read many of the papers written by Tumi’s mother, the renowned constitutional law expert Koena Moketla. Edgar had read about the brilliant way she was able to use the law to bring about change in South Africa. He had immediately wanted to befriend Tumi, thinking that he would be a great contact to have. But on the other hand, Tumi had been nothing but disagreeable since Edgar had first spoken to him when he arrived at Ridgemont. Tumi was confrontational with Hein and the rest of the guys in their class, and he was a bit of a teacher’s pet, which reeked of leveraging his family’s name to get ahead. Even though Edgar had been intrigued by Tumi, and he obviously found him very attractive, the constant grumpy look on his face was more than annoying. Edgar turned to Leo and said, “I thought he was made of tougher stuff than it seems he is. He really didn’t put up much of a fight in mock court at all. What did he say to you guys this time?”

  Leo laughed and the rest of his friends joined in. “He was just sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong again, trying to ruin our fun. You’re right, Edgar: he doesn’t fit in with us. I don’t even think he belongs at Ridgemont at all.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Edgar said, sensing that there was more to the story than the guys were letting on, but deciding that he didn’t want to get involved.

  Hein spoke up then, still watching Edgar closely. “Maybe we’ll see him tonight and we can carry on with our conversation. You’re coming with us to the law ball, right?” His ice-blue eyes were searching Edgar’s face expectantly.

  Edgar hesitated. “I don’t know,” he said lamely. “I’m preparing for the
next session of mock court, and I’ve already been partying a lot lately.”

  “Oh come on!” Sylas interjected, throwing his hands up theatrically. “It won’t be any fun unless you’re there, Edgar. Besides, I heard a rumor that Graham from our class is bringing the model Cindi Titus as his date. They’re apparently cousins or something. Wouldn’t you love to meet a world-famous model?” Sylas was clearly thrilled at the idea, his voice rising to a grating pitch.

  Edgar shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose it’ll be good to network a bit. Prof. Nkuna will be there too, right?”

  “All of the professors are there. They live for these kinds of things,” Sylas responded.

  Leo bit his lip and said, “Maybe I can come for a few hours. It should be fun.”

  Sylas clapped his hands and Leo smiled from ear to ear. “Excellent,” Hein said, putting his hand on Edgar’s forearm. “We’ll have fun tonight. We never really got a chance to chat yesterday.”

  Even though Hein was clearly flirting with Edgar, Edgar’s mind was on someone else. He wondered what had happened between Tumi and the guys that morning. Was Tumi really trying to stir up trouble with his friends? There was something that drew Edgar to the mysterious Tumi Moketla. It looked like there was something below the surface with him, something that Edgar couldn’t quite put his finger on. He decided that if he had to go to the law ball, and if he was leaving Ridgemont in a few short months, it might be worth his time to try and figure out who Tumi Moketla really was, and to see why he had gone so easy on Edgar at mock court. Tumi was clearly a brilliant student and had a way with words, but Edgar felt that he had won his argument way too easily against Tumi. Maybe there was some reason that Tumi had let him win. Edgar had to figure out a plan to get Tumi alone at the law ball, and to try and make sense of him.