JP lay there in pain, not knowing how serious his injuries were. He cursed under his breath, but decided not to try and move since he knew he was too drunk to be able to run away. After a minute of waiting he heard the sirens of a police car approaching.
Chapter 8
JP sat on the cold bench in the jail cell, his head throbbing with pain. He tried to squeeze his eyes shut tightly to get back some sense of sobriety, but it was not working. He had been there for two hours already, and his mind had gone to every paranoid thought that it could in that time. Would he face charges? Would he be kicked out of Ridgemont? Would he be dropped from the swim team? He tapped his foot nervously on the floor of the tiny, smelly cell as he waited.
The cell was brightly lit and it only made his headache worse. He heard the guard laughing in a deep voice in the distance. Luckily, he had no visible injuries from the crash through the window. But his emotions were scattered.
He thought of Peet’s idiotic grin as he ran away with the other guys on the swim team, abandoning JP to face the consequences on his own. What did he expect? They were only being true to form, and even though he was boiling with anger for them, he couldn’t really blame them. He might have even done the same if he were in their shoes.
The guard came to his cell then, and stood smiling smugly at JP through the bars. “Ridgemont boy, hey? We get some of you lot once in a while. Always fun to see how you rich kids squirm. You’ll have a nice, long night in the cell.”
JP tried to ignore the man’s taunting, and rubbed his head. He’d called his mother, but she had hung up before letting him know if she would come to help him. He thought better of trying to call Peet. He knew he would not be able to sleep that night, no matter how drunk he was. He felt a crushing sense of self-loathing then, and sat back against the cold wall behind him, trying to get as comfortable as he could.
The phone in the holding area rang then, and the guard went to answer it. JP could hear the guard’s deep voice grunting in assent to whatever was being said over the phone, and a few minutes later he returned to JP’s cell looking much less satisfied than he had been before. “Get up, boy. There’s someone here to see you.” The guard unlocked his cell and grabbed JP forcefully by his arm, escorting him through the holding area to a private room. There was a single chair and JP was instructed to sit down. “Typical,” said the guard. “No consequences as usual.” He walked out of the room, leaving JP alone.
After a few minutes the door opened again, and JP’s heart began racing when he saw who stepped through it. “Oupa?” he started, “Who called you?”
“Who do you think, boy? Your mother calls me in the middle of the night, telling me to come deal with you. The fruit that I spoiled, she called you. And you know what, she’s right!”
JP steeled himself for another lecture from his grandfather. This time, however, he knew that he had messed up in a big way, and that he deserved to sit through it. The old man’s face was contorted into the angriest expression JP had ever seen on it. His cold, blue eyes seemed to show only disgust for his grandson. His head of grey hair was parted neatly, and the business suit he wore gave him the air of strict authority that JP had feared and resented so much while he was growing up. “I should have known it would come to this. I went through the same thing with your father, you know. I put all of my expectations, all of my resources into turning him into a proud Terreblanche man, worthy to carry on our name. It was nothing but wasted energy. And now he disappoints me again by the way his son is turning out.”
JP wanted to say that his father had dedicated his entire life to the Terreblanche company. That nothing he ever did was good enough. He wanted to stand up to the old man. But his mother’s words came back to him, her detached voice telling him to be grateful for all of his advantages and to hold on to them at whatever cost, and he bit his tongue. “What do you think I should do with you?” his grandfather asked. “How do you think I should handle this? First you show me such pathetic grades for your first term, and now you could face criminal charges.” His grandfather’s features seemed hollow and tired then. JP was ashamed.
“It was an accident, Oupa. I just had a bit too much to drink.”
“That’s the whole problem right there. Do you think you can just carry on with these frivolous things, act like you have no reputation to uphold, no name to live up to, and there will be no consequences? Do you really think that you can do whatever you want and you won’t be held responsible? Maybe your mother is right, and you are too far gone. Maybe you are taking the privileges I shower you with for granted.”
“I’m not. I am doing my best,” JP half-whispered, suddenly feeling his exhaustion catch up to him.
“Well, clearly your best is not good enough. Definitely not good enough for a Terreblanche man.”
JP sat quietly as the old man’s scornful eyes surveyed him. Tense seconds passed in the quiet room. Finally, his grandfather spoke again. “I have shareholders to satisfy. If I don’t have a viable heir, someone who seems capable of taking over the company one day… I thought you could be that man, but now I’m not so sure.”
JP found himself speaking before he thought it through, giving in to the fear and shame he had so often felt around his grandfather, “I’m sorry, Oupa. It was one mistake. But I won’t make it again.”
“We can’t have a dropout jail-bird be next in line to take over our company. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Oupa,” JP said sheepishly.
“Then I will give you a final chance. Your grades need to improve drastically by the end of the semester. You need to start an internship at the company on weekends and over your break. You will not spend time with those degenerates you seem to enjoy the company of. And you will quit the swimming team; you don’t need these unnecessary distractions.”
JP looked up at his grandfather in stunned silence. “I don’t need to quit the team, Oupa. I will stop partying and do everything else you’re asking for, but swimming makes me happy. It’s important to me.” JP hated how much his voice was shaking, but he had to say this to his grandfather.
“I don’t care. We all wish we could be doing frivolous things. Look at your father, flitting around Europe doing work well beneath his abilities because he wants to be happy. He’s a disgrace.” JP wanted to say, maybe he just wants to be away from you. “A Terreblanche man doesn’t have time for fun. We have important work to do. You will quit the swim team as soon as possible. I expect to see you at my office on Friday afternoon so that you can start your internship. And don’t look so dejected and pathetic. Carry yourself with pride, for God’s sake! You’re enough of an embarrassment already. When I was your age I was building my company from the ground up. Now you’re busy leeching up my money and swimming around like an imbecile. I expect more from you from now on. Or else, we’ll see how these charges miraculously reappear.”
JP sat with his head hung low. He was utterly ashamed of himself, not only for ending up in the jail cell that night, but also for being so weak around his grandfather. The old man turned on his heel and walked out of the room. An officer came in to let him know that he was being discharged, and that he could wait in the reception area until his papers were processed. There would be no record of an arrest, his grandfather had made sure of that.
As he sat waiting to be released, JP thought about everything that his grandfather had said to him. He knew that he was struggling with his courses, and that he had gotten poor grades every term so far. He wondered if he just wasn’t cut out to have a university degree. He had always had tutors in school, but had just barely scraped by. The only reason he made it into Ridgemont was because his grandfather was a regular donor. JP wondered if there was something wrong with him, if he was just stupid. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find his classes interesting, and he struggled to study. He was even repeating a course from his first year, Statistics 101, and shared the class with the arrogant first year student Darryn Fredericks, who was always answering the l
ecturer’s questions. Why did Darryn have to be the golden boy at everything? What did he have that JP didn’t?
JP knew that his grandfather wasn’t just making idle threats. He would stop paying for JP’s flat, probably stop his allowance if JP did not fall in line. But why did he have to say that JP had to stop swimming? It was the one thing where he felt capable in his life. The one thing where he was actually good at something. When JP realized that he had a talent for swimming, he finally felt like there was a part of his life where he didn’t owe anything to his family’s money or influence. He was good enough on his own to make the team and to be one of their best swimmers. He didn’t need anyone to help him or to pay his way. Swimming was the only place where it didn’t matter that he was a Terreblanche man, it only mattered that he was talented and that he practised.
But he knew that he had to quit if his grandfather demanded it. He knew that he couldn’t afford to pay the fine for breaking the window at Percy’s Pub on his own, or possibly face charges. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to stay at Ridgemont on merit alone, and that he wasn’t quite good enough at swimming to get one of the few sports scholarships. He had no choice but to rely on his grandfather and to continue taking his money. Being a Terreblanche, having everything that comes with that name, means that you need to put up with things you don’t want to put up with. His mother’s words echoed in his thoughts, and he sighed a heavy breath of resignation.
Chapter 9
The second term was progressing peacefully. Darryn was practising hard throughout the days, making sure he was ready for the upcoming semi-finals of the Ridgemont University swimming championships. At night, he studied hard whenever he didn’t have a shift at Best Burger, making sure that he stayed near the top of his class academically. He felt good about how well he was able to manage his busy schedule, and enjoyed the fact that he could see his hard work pay off in some of his fastest laps in the pool yet.
Darryn and Allison were working the late night shift again on a Thursday two weeks before the semifinals. Allison was telling him about how she had won the role of Viola in the community theatre’s adaptation of Twelfth Night. “You should’ve seen me, Darryn,” she said with animated gestures, “I was spectacular during our first rehearsal. The director was practically speechless.”
“I’m sure you’ll be great, Allison. You definitely do have the personality to be an actress. You just ooze drama out of your pores,” Darryn said, laughing. Allison hit him on his shoulder with feigned indignation.
“You joke, but I really think this is going to be a great showcase for me. I’m sending out letters now to some of the executives at Cape Town Film Studios and the local talent agencies. If they just have a chance to see me, I know they’ll snatch me up in a heartbeat. You’ll be there on opening night, right? I would give you a free ticket, but I think you should pay to support local theatre. The arts are severely underappreciated, you know.” Allison’s playfulness was comforting for Darryn, but he worried that she was being too distracting on a night when their manager, Monty, seemed especially moody.
Darryn finished wrapping a set of hamburgers and started to fry a new batch of patties. He wiped his tired eyes with his forearm, and readjusted his brightly coloured Best Burger hat. “Listen, why don’t you act busy before Monty comes in here and murders us both. We don’t need any more drama after the talking-to we got earlier.”
“Oh Darryn, my dear Darryn, you worry way too much about trivial things.” Allison’s heavy brown eyes and puffy cheeks gave her the look of someone who laughed a lot. She was much shorter than Darryn, and as she moved theatrically around the room talking about her plans and ambitions Darryn fully believed that she could be a very successful actress. She was certainly entertaining enough. “You’re giving yourself frown lines. We’re still young, Darryn. Young and free. If we can’t have a little fun in our lives, what’s the point?” She pouted with a look of playful reproach, and lifted her short arm to pat Darryn on his shoulder. “We have the whole world ahead of us.”
“We might have the whole world ahead of us, but if Monty comes in here and hears us going on about anything but work, he’ll put me at the window again. And you know how much I hate the window.” Darryn turned his back to Allison and attended to the burgers he was frying.
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell him off for you if he tries anything funny okay. Monty can kiss me where the sun don’t shine,” Allison giggled, and slapped her own butt.
“I can what?” Monty’s voice bellowed from behind them. He stood at the door to the kitchen with his arms crossed and his brow creased.
“Uh oh,” Allison said, and cringed. She tried to cover it up, and said, “It was just a line from the new play I’m in. I’ll get you a ticket, sir, if you want?”
But it was hopeless. Allison was sent back to the front to deal with customers, and Darryn was banished to the dreaded window.
***
Darryn dealt with the customers as best he could for the first hour of his time at the drive-through window. He only managed to meet a few difficult customers; a particularly obnoxious woman complained that the serving of small chips she ordered was too small, and demanded a larger one. But besides this and a few other minor unpleasantries, the night was not too challenging. Darryn missed the mindless ritual of flipping burgers, but he knew that he could not always avoid working the window.
In his second hour at the window, however, things took a turn for the worse. He felt his pulse quicken as he noticed something he was praying not to see again: Peet’s blue Ford was in line for the drive-through. Darryn’s mind raced for a good solution. He considered calling Allison to take over the window for him, or simply refusing to serve them. But he remembered suddenly how weak he had felt the last time they had embarrassed him. He remembered that he had vowed to stand up to them. He would confront the guys in the car, he decided, and if they were jerks with him he would push back. He couldn’t allow himself to be bullied forever.
The car pulled up next to the window and Darryn gave them a blank expression. Peet was in the driver’s seat, and his two goons were with him again. Luckily, that arrogant ringleader JP was not with them; at least it was one less bully to deal with.
“Well, if it isn’t our good friend Fredericks! We were hoping to see you tonight, weren’t we boys?” Peet said with a satisfied smile.
“Looking good tonight, Fredericks. As pretty as a peach,” one of the other guys said, and laughed.
Darryn maintained his composure, and asked curtly, “What do you want?”
“Oh, I’m offended, Fredericks. Is that anyway to talk to a valued customer? We expect a little bit of respect when we come to this fine establishment, don’t we boys?” Peet offered in response.
“If you think you’ll get away with the same nonsense you pulled last time, you’re wrong. Just order your food and move on. Don’t make a scene.”
Peet sneered: “Oh, you’re cheeky tonight, aren’t you? Maybe I should have a word with your manager about the rude service I’m receiving tonight. I won’t stand for this type of behavior from someone who is meant to be giving me service with a smile. Where is that pretty smile, anyway?”
Darryn felt rage building in his belly. He wanted to jump through the window and grab Peet by the collar and punch him. He knew that something bad would happen if he couldn’t get rid of them soon. “You won’t win here tonight, Peet. I would stop talking if I were you. Just order your food and move on, or we’ll have a problem.”
Peet’s smile grew even broader as Darryn said this. He was clearly enjoying the exchange, and Darryn finally realized that he was simply feeding their games by standing up to them. Peet said, “Oh, well I guess we’re not going to get a smile from him tonight, guys. Looks like we will have to demand a new employee to serve us.” At this, Peet began to shout into the window, “Manager! Oh, manager! We need to speak to a manager right now!”
The cars behind Peet’s were honking at this point, and Darryn was feeli
ng hopeless. He couldn’t even process his thoughts before he saw Monty walking towards him and moving to push his face to the window.
“What’s going on here? Good evening, gentlemen. Can I help you?” Monty said, suddenly taking on a kind, helpful persona. Darryn knew what was coming. He considered defending himself before Peet could spout lies, but he felt too proud to give Peet the satisfaction of making him tremble in front of Monty. Darryn stood, steel-faced, ready to take whatever they would throw at him.
“We’ve been receiving terrible service tonight,” Peet said. “We come here all the time, and we’ve had many problems with this boy over here.” Peet pointed to Darryn with disgust on his face.
Monty did not turn to look at Darryn, but continued to try and appease Peet: “I see. Would you like to come inside to my office so we can discuss it, sir? Of course, your meal will be on the house tonight?”
“We don’t want to come inside. Do you know that this one was out here cursing at us? Do you know he threatened to… he said he would spit in our food? If you keep workers like this on your staff, we won’t be returning as customers.” Peet’s face was deathly serious, but his friends were both laughing like hyenas.
Monty finally turned to Darryn, looking more angry than concerned, “Is this true, Darryn? What did you say to them?”
Darryn stood by silently, stoic defiance painted on his face. He folded his arms and waited for what Monty would say next.
“I assure you, sir, that he will no longer work here after tonight. This type of behavior is unacceptable at Best Burger. Now please, let me get you all a meal on the house.” Monty went to get another server to give Peet and his friends a free meal, and on his way he whispered to Darryn, “Leave the apron and hat on your way out. And don’t expect a reference letter from me.”
Against the Tide Page 5
