Crooks and Straights

by Masha du Toit

  “It means that in theory— if this thing were real— and we did not pay them on time, they can take Nico.”

  The shock of it flowed like ice-water through Gia’s veins. “They can’t do that, surely?” she said faintly.

  Karel pushed himself away from the table. “That’s why you must never sign anything you don’t fully understand, Gia. We’re lucky this thing is not real. Otherwise, we could be in some nasty trouble here.”

  “But you are sure it’s not real?” Gia stared up at him.

  “Of course. Now, I’ve got to get back to work. Good night, Gia.”

  -oOo-

  After Karel left, Saraswati still sat staring down at the table.

  “Gia,” she said at last. “I’m thinking, if I could have a word with this— what was his name?”

  “Brakman?”

  “Yes. If I can see him and speak to him, then I’d know for sure. And if there is any chance he really is what he says he is, maybe he’ll be open to renegotiation.”

  “But I thought you said—”

  Saraswati looked up. “I don’t really know quite what to think right now.”

  They looked into the studio on their way out. Saraswati spoke to Karel, but she let him think they were just going out to get some bread.

  Somehow, that was more frightening that anything else that had happened that day.

  Gia thought of a glass vase, pure and solid, but with the thinnest of cracks running through its base.

  Invisible, but inevitable.

  It was much harder to find Brakman’s flat than she’d anticipated. Driving was different from walking, and none of the landmarks looked quite as she’d remembered them. It was quite dark by the time they turned into the right road and she pointed out the block to her mother.

  Saraswati pushed the bell, but as before, there was no response. Luckily an old woman, loaded down with shopping bags, stumped up the steps, and did not even noticed when they slipped in behind her.

  Gia led the way to number twenty-seven, but they found it dark and quiet. There was nobody home. Nobody responded to their knocks and calls, and at last they were forced to leave, as a grumpy neighbour threatened to call the police.

  Saraswati said nothing on the drive home.

  Asking Granny

  The next few days were tense and uncomfortable.

  Neither Karel nor Saraswati mentioned the contract, but Gia could tell it was still on their minds. She herself could not stop thinking about it.

  One moment she was convinced that it was a fake, and that all she had to worry about was how Nico would deal with the testing. The next moment she was horribly sure that the contract was real, and that by signing it, she’d committed her family to who-knew-what dreadful agreement.

  She realised now that she’d been a fool to ask Paddavis to look over the contract, or to rely on him for any kind of advice. Thinking back about it, she doubted if he could even read. She’d tried calling his name a few times, but he never appeared. Her stomach hurt, and she had trouble sleeping.

  If her parents did not pay, did that mean that the contract was broken and not worth worrying about? Or could the Belle Gente still claim Nico, just come and take him away?

  Nico tried her patience too.

  He refused to accept that her room was off limits. Saraswati was unsympathetic, even when Nico took a bottle of cowrie shells and several feathers from her collection. There was no mystery what he wanted them for— it was for the sculpture he was making out of the overlocker pieces.

  He worked on it whenever he could.

  Despite her irritation, Gia had to admit that it was an impressive piece. It had a head and body now, articulated legs ending in two large, splayed feet. The cowrie-shells did duty as teeth, and it had a feathered crest all the way down its neck.

  Gia tried to find the caretaker, but while she saw him in the distance once or twice, she never got close enough to draw his attention. She desperately wanted to speak to him, particularly about the contract.

  At least she could share her thoughts with Sonella, but that was also a small comfort. Sonella was concerned and attentive, but did not seem to understand Gia’s horror at the idea of the Belle Gente.

  “They’re not terrorists, Gia,” she said. “I mean, I know you don’t want anyone to take Nico away. But I’m sure they don’t mean to do that. And even if they did, at least they’re not Special Branch.”

  Because of being grounded, the only contact she had with Fatima and Ben was via texter, and texters were not any good for anything longer than a few words.

  Then there was the approaching deadline for First Exit.

  Soon, she’d have to make her final decision.

  Stay at school, or defy her parents and apply for a place at the art school. The doll was ready, and that made it worse, as she had nothing to occupy herself. All she could do was think, and worry.

  Miss Huisman took her aside after class one day to ask about the testing at Valkenberg. Gia was tempted to ask her for advice, but her mother’s words about “sharing our private family matters” still weighed on her conscience.

  Late one night, Gia went down to the kitchen for a drink of water and found her parents there. She paused at the door, and after she’d heard a few words, stepped back out of view.

  “For the last time, Sari,” her father was saying. “I can’t let you go into hiding with Nico. I understand that you are concerned. From what Gia’s said, Nico’s not going to deal well with those tests. But we’ll get through this, as long as we stand together—”

  “If we have that choice!” Saraswati’s voice was ragged with fatigue, and Gia guessed this conversation had been going on for a long time.

  “Karel, I’m not letting those fascist pseudo-scientists anywhere near my son. Yes. I don’t yet know where I can go, but if you will only let me have access to the money—”

  “Sari, be reasonable. You don’t know for a fact that there is any danger to Nico. Even if there was somewhere for you to go to, if you disappear now it will only attract the wrong kind of attention. The best thing would be for us to play by the rules—”

  Saraswati gave a kind of sob.

  Gia wanted to put her hands over her ears. She’d never heard her mother like this before.

  “That is exactly what my father, when my sisters—”

  “Yes, I know, and I’m sorry, but this really is not the same. You are not being rational here, Sari. Please try to be calm. As long as we stay together and trust one another we can get through this, but you’re pulling away from me all the time. I’m not going to give you any money, and that’s flat. Not if you are going to use it to take my son into danger.”

  Gia had had enough.

  She turned and went back up to her bedroom, crawled into her bed, and curled around the hurt in her stomach.

  -oOo-

  Gia had trouble concentrating on her schoolwork the next day. The conversation she’d overheard kept repeating over and over in her head, and every time it woke more questions.

  Why could Saraswati not get the money from the bank herself? Had it always been like that— that her father controlled the money, and her mother relied on him to give her what she needed?

  Now that she thought about it, while Saraswati was always planning and managing the family’s finances, Gia could not remember her ever actually withdrawing any money herself.

  Maybe it was something to do with the fact that her mother was not a South African citizen? But that seemed unlikely.

  She dragged herself away from these thoughts, uneasy at what they might reveal about her parents.

  Saraswati wanted to go away, to try to hide, to escape somehow, both from the Special Branch and the Belle Gente, and that was why she needed money.

  Could she do it anyway, even without money? Was there anywhere she could go?

  She had no family of her own, or none that Gia knew about.

  She had no friends either.

  For the first time, Gia
thought about this, and found it strange.

  Her mother was well known, and well liked. But she had no special friends— the kind of friends she could turn to in times of trouble.

  Why was that?

  There was Mandy. But Gia found it hard to imagine Saraswati confiding in Mandy, even though Gia thought of Mandy as one of the family.

  Was it simply because Saraswati was foreign? That could not be the only reason. After nearly sixteen years, she could have made some connections by now.

  Gia wondered what it must have been like for her mother, coming to a strange country. Saraswati had been about eighteen years old. And there had been her, Gia, a new baby to care for.

  That could not have been easy.

  Gia was so deep in her thoughts that she was barely aware of what went on around her. The only incident that drew her attention happened during English, when Mrs Kemp knocked on the door and said she had an announcement to make.

  “You all know that it’s only two days before First Exit.”

  Her words made Gia sit up.

  “On Friday, those of you who wish to take First Exit will be given the opportunity to visit the First Exit displays in the school hall. If you have portfolios, curriculum vitae, or anything else to submit for consideration, those must be brought to the hall the first thing in the morning.

  “Ensure that everything is clearly labelled with your name, as well as the name of the person who will be judging your work.

  “Some advice. It is always a good idea to visit several of the stands, and speak to more than one of the representatives. You may think you know who you wish to go with, but you can keep your options open until the moment you sign up with them.

  “Anyone who needs advice, or more information about any of the exhibitors, make an appointment with me. You will find the list of exhibitors up on the noticeboards, as well as many pamphlets.”

  -oOo-

  When Gia got home, she found that both her parents had gone out. Mandy was in the tiny backyard, taking down laundry. Karel had told her all about Gia’s trip to see Brakman.

  “You’re always rushing into things, Gia,” she said. “But no use crying over spilt milk.”

  She picked up the laundry basket and started making her way back up the stairs. “Madam’s been worrying herself sick all morning. She went out to Granny’s to get some milk and bread, and came back as white as a sheet.”

  “Do you think Granny told her something?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  Being grounded meant that Gia was not allowed to leave the house without her parents’ permission. Things were still tense with Saraswati, and she hesitated to do anything to worsen that situation, but in the end, she decided that she would risk visiting Granny’s shop while her parents were still away.

  Granny was sitting at the counter. “Good afternoon,” she said as Gia came in. “What can I do for you today, sweetheart?”

  She had a row of jars and bottles lined up in front of her and was wiping one of them with a soft cloth.

  “My mother was in earlier, wasn’t she?” said Gia.

  “She was,” said Granny.

  Gia tried to imagine what Saraswati would have said. Surely she would not talk about their troubles to a relative stranger. But she would still need information.

  “Did she ask you anything about a man called Brakman?”

  Granny’s eyebrows rose, but she went on polishing the bottle, working with slow care. “She did, at that.”

  “So you know him? Brakman?”

  The old woman turned the bottle upside down and worked the cloth carefully inside. “I might.”

  Gia hesitated. She did not know quite how to phrase her next question. “Brakman told me he worked for the Belle Gente.”

  “Hmm,” said Granny. She gave the bottle a last wipe, then put it down and selected another one.

  “Is it true? Does he?” asked Gia, but before Granny could answer, two women came in, and Gia had to wait while they had a leisurely chat with Granny about the weather, the new umbrellas that Granny was going to order, and the fact that tomatoes just did not taste the way they used to. When they’d finally bought their cigarettes and left, Gia spoke again.

  “Is it true? About Brakman?”

  Granny scratched at a spot on the bottle with a long, yellow fingernail. “Why are you asking?”

  “You told my mother what you knew about Brakman, didn’t you?”

  Granny shrugged. “I might have.”

  “And I bet you did not make her explain why she needed to know.”

  Granny seemed to find this amusing. She held the bottle to the light and squinted at it critically.

  “You’re right about that,” she said. “Your mother knows how to get what she wants.”

  Gia clenched her fists. She did not have time for this. Her parents would be back soon, and she wanted to be home before them. But before she could say anything, Granny spoke again.

  “Maybe I can tell you why you are asking me all these questions.”

  She rubbed the cloth over the bottle in a meditative way.

  “Saturday, you had Special Branch sniffing around. Interesting, that. Special Branch don’t do that without a reason. Maybe it’s got something to do with that brother of yours. Don’t look so surprised. Special Branch has been after the young ones for a while now. What got their attention on your brother, I don’t know.”

  She shot Gia a gleaming look. “Any road, when your mother comes in here and asks, ever so casual, about Brakman, well. I can put two and two together. Special Branch have got their hooks in you, and they want to test that little boy.”

  Granny’s mouth twisted up and for a moment Gia thought she was going to spit. “Test him at Valkenberg. And who would you turn to, but Brakman?”

  “So he wasn’t just trying to trick me? He really can help— he does work for the Belle Gente like he said?”

  Granny nodded. “That’s right. He does. And he can.”

  Gia was not sure whether to feel relieved or alarmed. She had not been fooled after all. She’d been right to trust the caretaker. But that also meant that the contract was real, and that the Belle Gente might act on their claim.

  “Some advice, sweetie.” Granny put down her cloth, and focused her full attention on Gia. “It seems you’ve been getting mixed up with us crooks. And maybe you’ve found that interesting. Having an adventure like a girl in a story.

  “Thing is, the old ones— the Belle Gente— they’re not like me, or the caretaker, or any other little ones you might have run into here and there. We’re just regular people, even if we might seem a bit odd to you.

  “The Belle Gente, they’re the lords and the ladies. Most of them aren’t even from around here. Some of them are very old, and they’ve have been fighting for a very long time. Crooks and straights, that’s all they see.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Gia. “What are you telling me?”

  “The old ones are old,” said Granny. “They saw slavery, and wars, and worse, and survived. They are willing to do anything, to sacrifice anything. They have no doubt, you see. They know they're right. They set their mill grinding, and don’t care that the small ones break their bones between the mill-stones.”

  A shudder prickled down Gia’s spine.

  “Now, I would guess that if you’ve been dealing with Brakman, you got yourself into an agreement with the Belle Gente. Signed a contract, maybe. You may find that paying their fee is not quite as straightforward as you’d like.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Let me put it this way. What the old ones want is not gold. Gold they have in plenty. But if they can get a soldier, even a small one, that may be worth more than gold to them. And a soldier that’s been certified as a straight— certificate of purity, don’t they call it that? That would be very convenient.”

  “They’ll try to take Nico?”

  Granny looked at her for a long moment. “Not try,” she said at las
t. “Take. What’s to stop them, after all?”

  She picked up her cloth again. “Unless, of course, you can make them a counteroffer.”

  -oOo-

  As she’d feared, Gia’s parents returned home just as she reached the front door. But neither of them noticed that she’d been out without permission. They seemed preoccupied, and asked her to join them in the studio.

  “Gia,” said Saraswati. “Did the man you talked to, that Brakman, explain how to make this payment?”

  “He gave me a sort of bank card. He said you could use it on any bank machine.”

  “Do you still have it?”

  Gia got her wallet and fished out the card. “Have you decided to pay then?”

  Saraswati frowned at the card. “How does it work?”

  “He said there’s a number on the contract. Apparently you just punch it into the bank machine, then there will be instructions on how to pay.”

  Saraswati took the contract out of her handbag and Gia showed her the stamped number.

  “Any bank machine?”

  “That’s what he said.”

  Gia noticed a shopping bag of fabric on the cutting table. The little bit she could see was a dusky ivory, and had the sheen of silk.

  “Is that Kavitha’s fabric?”

  “Yes,” said Karel. “Shantung silk. We went there this morning to do a fitting with the toile, and it’s pretty much there. They’re insisting on us finishing the dress as soon as we can, so we’re going to be busy next week.”

  He glanced at his watch.

  “Sari, if we go now, we can do this payment and pick up Nico on our way back.”

  Then they were gone. Gia stared after them thoughtfully.

  Whatever Granny had said to Saraswati, it was enough to convince them to pay Brakman.

  -oOo-

  Gia did her homework while Mandy ironed, then she helped fold and put away the laundry. Neither of them spoke much, but Gia kept glancing at the clock.

  Something must have gone wrong.

  It could not take this long simply to deposit some money into a bank machine.

  Mandy got out the Brasso and polishing cloths, which told Gia that she, too was feeling anxious. Mandy loved polishing copper- and brassware, and tended to bring out the polishing things whenever she was unhappy.