Crooks and Straights

by Masha du Toit

  “Not you,” he said as Granny made to follow, and the troll put out one of his arms to bar her way.

  Gia opened her mouth to argue, but caught Granny’s eye, and shut it again.

  “Go ahead, girl,” said Granny. “Go on. I can’t help you anyway past this. Remember what I said.”

  Gia wanted to say something, but the man was already disappearing back into the club, and she had to hurry to catch him up. She tried to see more of him, but he walked quickly down the stairs so all she could tell was that he was young and had long brown hair. Instead of going down the main stairs to the club, he pulled aside a part of the fabric that draped the walls, and opened a door.

  “Are we going in that…tunnel again?” she called out.

  Granny might say what she like about good impressions, but it would not be fun negotiating manholes and underground tunnels in these clothes.

  “No,” the man said over his shoulder. “You’re lucky. The Lady is upstairs tonight. Wouldn’t let you go to the tunnel anyway, not without a blindfold.”

  The man unlocked another door, and this time they were outside, going up an exposed staircase. Gia climbed, wincing as the metal stairs rang under her heels.

  At the top of the stairs was a door protected by a rusty metal grid. It did not look like much, an unimportant back-entrance, except for the fact that there was a troll standing in the shadows on each side of it.

  “Stop here”, said the man who’d been guiding them, and knocked on the door.

  Gia tried not to shiver as she waited. Her heart was pounding, and not just from the climb.

  Somebody opened the door.

  It was the white-haired girl who had been Gia’s guide when she’d been blindfolded. She met Gia’s eye for a moment, but showed no sign of recognition or greeting.

  “You can go back,” she said to the man, and “come,” to Gia.

  -oOo-

  The corridor beyond the door was quite empty. The floor was tiled with red, white and black tiles, but they were broken, with large stretches missing. The windows had been painted over, so very little light came in from outside. There were several doors, but only one of them had slivers of light shining round its edges.

  The girl went to this door and knocked softly. A voice said something from inside, and the girl opened the door, blocking Gia’s view.

  “My lady,” she said.

  Once again a voice spoke, and the girl nodded, then turned and beckoned to Gia.

  By now, Gia felt ill. Her shoes clattered on the tiles and she wished she’d thought to wear something more sensible. Remembering Granny’s words, she drew in a breath and straightened her spine.

  Pretend to be your mother.

  It was a different room, but just as dark as the previous one had been. It was lit by two white-shaded paper lanterns that glowed on the face and hair of the ivory woman.

  The White Crane, Gia told herself, and made herself meet the woman’s regal stare.

  “You can go now. I will call you when I need you.”

  The white-haired girl bowed and backed out the door, closing it behind her.

  The woman said nothing, and Gia felt herself starting to lose what self-confidence she had.

  Better say something.

  “Thank you for agreeing to see me,” she said, and bowed slightly. She was relieved to find that there was no one else in the room. The ivory woman was bad enough, but she was not sure if she could have faced the Blind Man as well tonight.

  “Why have you come?” said the woman. “And how did you know to find me here?”

  Gia’s eyes were adjusting to the lack of light, and she could make out that the woman was sitting perfectly still, her bony hands folded in her lap.

  Gia swallowed. “I have a request.” She was proud of how calm her voice sounded. What had that girl called her? “My lady,” she added belatedly.

  The woman did not nod, or blink, or stir a finger and Gia felt the silence sucking at her, tempting her to fall into nervous chatter. Instead she closed her mouth, and waited.

  At last the woman spoke. “You have a request. Why should I listen to you?”

  “If you don't,” said Gia, “then I won't be able to help you.”

  She dared to look at the woman’s face and saw her eyebrows twitch into a frown.

  “You mean, you won't be able to spy for me. Is this blackmail?”

  “Oh, no!” said Gia. “No, it’s nothing like that. If you would allow me to explain?”

  Again Gia felt her ignorance about the polite way to speak to such a person, but the woman did not seem to take offence. The white face nodded once.

  “You know about my mother, Saraswati? I think you know what she is?”

  The woman nodded again.

  “You probably know what has happened. That she’s— that she’s gone?”

  “I have heard. And I’ve heard of the manner of her leaving.”

  “Then you know that she’s not coming back.”

  Again, that single nod.

  “The thing is, without my mother, my father cannot run his business. If I was staying at home I could help but now I’m leaving to, well, to spy for you. At Special Branch.”

  The black eyes blinked twice, slowly, and Gia wondered what thoughts or emotions lived behind them. It would be easy to think of this woman as a lifeless carving, an automaton incapable of emotion.

  “I cannot leave my family like that, my lady,” she said. “And I cannot break my word to you. How can I resolve my dilemma?”

  The eyes closed briefly as The White Crane nodded. “You speak well. I acknowledge your right to ask my help in this. As you are my spy, you are under my protection, at least for as long as you remain useful.”

  The cold black eyes were staring at her again. “Some would say that you are presumptuous to demand this from me before you’ve even proved your worth. But then again, some would say that the very presumption is proof of your worth. I have no use for blind obedience. What is the nature of the help your father requires?”

  Gia hardly dared hope.

  “He needs a skilled seamstress, my lady. Somebody who can put together garments, and not just doing the seams or pressing things, somebody who can work creatively, under his guidance.”

  “I see.”

  For a few moments the woman looked down at her hands. Then she rose, and took up one of the lanterns. She moved deeper into the room and by its light Gia could see tall shelves of books and many boxes piled on top of one another. She had an impression of haste, as if these things had been moved into the room in a hurry, and would be moved out again soon.

  White Crane bent and pulled something from a shelf, then returned to the table with it. It was a narrow black box, made, as far as Gia could tell, from black leather.

  “Come.”

  Gia hesitated, then stepped closer as White Crane unfastened the metal studs that closed the leather box.

  “Do you know what this is?”

  The box was filled with row upon row of small white objects, ivory rectangles, each with a tiny picture or symbol carved into its surface. They clicked softly against one another as The White Crane drew her hand over them.

  “You don’t?” she said, and Gia was surprised to see a smile touch her thin lips.

  “This is a game. Mah jong. Maybe you’ve heard of it? No? No matter.”

  Her fingers were moving over the pieces, first picking out one, then another. “Some powerful magic here,” she said. “You cannot read the writing.”

  It was a statement, not a question. The letters were not in the Western alphabet. The looked like Chinese characters.

  “This is the East Wind,” the woman said, pointing at a piece. “This is the West Wind. The South, and North. We will not release these, not yet.”

  Her finger continued down the row of pieces. “Red Dragon, Green Dragon, and White. Their time has not yet come.”

  She picked out two pieces, cradling them in her palm. They clicked together softly
as she caressed them. “Plum and Bamboo,” she said, speaking down to them.

  “Yes. These will do.”

  -oOo-

  “So, after I point blank forbade you to have anything to do with these people, you went out anyway, in the middle of the night, and let Fatima, who is too young to have a driver’s licence, drive you there? Gia—” Karel shook his head in disbelief. “What is the good of my talking to you at all? You do what you want.”

  Gia looked unhappily down at the two mah jong pieces that lay on the table between them. They were in the studio’s workroom, she, her father and Mandy.

  “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

  “Dad, I had to go. I’m leaving! Today is my last day here—”

  “There is no—”

  “Dad!” Gia stopped. “Dad,” she said again, more softly. “I’m going. There is no way you can stop me. I don’t want to go, Dad. Do you think I want—”

  She had to stop again, as her voice was starting to wobble. After a few breaths, during which no one said anything, she continued. “I have to go. If I don’t go, they’ll come for Nico. It’s as simple as that. Now I can’t leave you and Mandy in the lurch like this, which is why,” she gestured at the mah jong pieces, “I got those.”

  Karel took in a breath to respond, but Mandy spoke first.

  “Gia is right, Mr Grobbelaar. It’s too late to go back now. That contract is signed and there’s no two ways about it. We’ve got to make the best of it.”

  Karel let his breath out in an exasperated puff. “So you’re against me too, Mandy?” But he sounded more defeated than angry, and Gia hoped that this was the end of the argument.

  “So,” he said, poking at one of the pieces. “How are these supposed to work?”

  “We summon them,” said Gia, relieved at the change of subject. “Or actually, you summon them.”

  “Won't people think it’s funny that I suddenly have two assistants helping me? How do I explain that?” said Karel.

  “The Crane said they’re not visible. I’m not sure I completely understand, but they’re not people, really.”

  “But they can sew?”

  “That’s what she said.”

  “You realise that that’s exactly the kind of thing that can get us into endless trouble? Invisible magical help? If any rumours of this get out, that’s the end of our good name.” Karel sighed and poked at the pieces again. “I suppose I have to try. What do I do?”

  “Take them in your hand, and breathe on them. Then you call them by their names. This one is Plum.” She pointed. “And this one is Bamboo.”

  Karel squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t believe I’m doing this.”

  He picked up a piece and, holding it up to his face, blew on it. Then he replaced it on the table. “Um. Bamboo?”

  There was a swirl of air, as if somebody had opened the door on a windy day, and the room was filled with a fresh, watery, marshy scent. Gia found herself thinking of mud, and frogs, and dragonflies. She was aware of a presence next to the table, although there was nothing visible there.

  “You called,” said a quiet voice. “I come.”

  “Ah. Yes,” said Karel, and swallowed. “Thank you. Welcome. I am Karel.”

  “I am Bamboo. I see Plum’s stone on the table. Are you calling her too?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “That is good.”

  The scent had faded, but not completely, and there was still the sense of outdoor spaces.

  Karel picked up the other stone and blew on it. “Plum,” he said, more confidently.

  The next arrival was gentler. There was a scent of sun-warmed stones, and warm grass. Gia thought she could hear the murmur of bees buzzing.

  Plum, when she spoke, had a softer voice than Bamboo.

  “You called,” she said. “I come.”

  “Thank you, Plum,” said Karel. “I am Karel. Thank you for coming.”

  There was the impression of someone bowing, although how she knew this Gia could not say.

  “We are here to help,” said Bamboo’s voice. “What are we to do?”

  “You can sew?” asked Karel.

  Both voices laughed. Then, “Yes, we can sew,” said Plum. “Although I’ve never used machines like these ones here. These are sew machines?”

  “Sewing machines,” said Karel and glanced at Mandy, who was watching him with wide eyes. “Don’t you like working with machines?”

  “I don’t know,” said Bamboo.

  “I’ve never tried,” said Plum. “We both sew very well, very quick. But we're willing to learn.”

  “I can show you how,” said Mandy, her voice a little shrill. “It’s not difficult.”

  A movement attracted her attention and Gia saw that Minou was at the open door. The cat stared at the spot the voices came from, eyes wide, first at one place, then the other. For a moment she puffed out her fur, then shuddered it flat again. She walked slowly across the floor and extended her pink nose for a sniff. Then she gave a little “brrrp” of greeting and jumped up on Gia’s lap where she sat smoothing down the fur on her flank with deft licks.

  Karel snorted a small laugh, and visibly relaxed. “Well, it seems her ladyship approves at any rate,” he said. “Let’s get to work.”

  The Liesbeek

  Gia looked from the Special Branch pamphlet to the suitcase on her bed. The list of things she was allowed to pack was short. In fact, it was more of a list of things she was not allowed to pack.

  No toiletries, perfumes or cosmetics. No books or writing materials. No electronic devices, e.g. cameras, texters.

  Nico sat on her bed, watching her. She was not sure he understood that she was leaving. And as far as she knew, nobody had spoken to him about Saraswati’s transformation.

  What do you say?

  What sense had he made of what he’d seen? It was no wonder he was traumatised. At least he was up and about now, and had even eaten some breakfast.

  Still no speaking, though.

  She looked at her half-full sketchpad, and reluctantly decided that it must fall under “books or writing materials” and set it aside. She’d packed what she could. Underwear, socks, and some t-shirts and jeans, but according to the pamphlet she would be wearing a uniform most of the time.

  What about pyjamas?

  That thought led to another.

  Where will I be sleeping? Will I have to share a room?

  It was the uncertainty that woke the butterflies in her stomach. By this time tomorrow, she’d be there. But where would that be? Her imagination drew blank, and that frightened her.

  What else should I pack? Running shoes?

  How long will it be before I can come home again?

  She sat on her bed next to her brother and put her head on her knees, feeling overwhelmed. It was not just that she was going to join Special Branch. She was going as a spy. And that, too, was unknown. What would she be asked to do?

  She felt Nico’s hand on her shoulder, a light touch that made her sit up and look at him.

  “You go look?” he said. “Mom?”

  Surprise drained her ability to speak.

  His gaze was intent, frowning a little with concentration to find the right words.

  “You— go find Mom?”

  “I— I don’t know where she is, Nico.”

  He shrugged, as if she’d said the obvious, and looked suddenly so like his mother that Gia felt a lump in her throat.

  “You know I’m going away, right, Nico?”

  He nodded.

  “And I won’t be back for a long time.”

  Another nod.

  The sound of her father’s footsteps made her sit up. He climbed up into her room.

  “You finished packing?” said Karel.

  “I think so.”

  “That suitcase big enough? You can borrow—”

  “I think it’s okay, thanks, Dad.”

  There was an awkward pause. Gia cast around for something safe to talk
about.

  “So I’m giving you a lift then, tomorrow morning?” said Karel.

  “Would you, Dad? I’ve got to be there before six.”

  “Of course I’ll take you. How else were you going to get there?”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Good.”

  And then,“Gia, I was thinking. I know it’s not full moon tonight, but I was thinking of all of us going down to the Liesbeek.”

  Gia looked at him. “You mean, go to the place where Mom used to go when the moon was full? To wait for— ?”

  “That’s right,” said Karel.

  -oOo-

  There was very little traffic along Liesbeek Parkway, so late at night.

  Gia could not help looking up the turn-off to Valkenberg as they drove past. There was a guard on duty, silhouetted against the light from the guard-post.

  That’s where I’m going tomorrow, she told herself, and shivered.

  Not much farther along, her father turned the car into a side street that led to a bridge. He pulled off onto the grassy bank. It was very quiet after the sound of the engine and for a while they just sat in the car, listening. Then Karel unbuckled his seatbelt.

  “Let’s go.”

  It was not nearly as dark as Gia had expected.

  The streetlights all along Liesbeek Parkway lit a wide area of grass and reed between the road and the river, and there was the occasional sweep of headlights from a passing car. Frogs cheeped, and she could hear the rushing of the river, quite low this late in the summer.

  She held Nico’s hand and the two of them followed Karel down a path that led in between the reed beds, until they were quite hidden from the road.

  For a while she could not see the river, as it was behind a screen of tall bamboo, but all at once they came out from the reeds to a wider grassy space, where they could look out onto the river.

  Karel stopped where he was.

  “This is where she used to wait,” he said. “Just down there on the bank.”

  Gia looked up at the sky then along the river on either side.

  All she could see were the silhouettes of the trees, stirring slowly in the night breeze. She could hear the breeze as well, rustling in the stand of bamboo behind her. Other sounds came to her ears.