or been whipped to death for splitting on gangsters.
Blade casually leant the chair against the wall and proceeded to sharpen his already razor-sharp knife on a brick. The scratching noise was the only sound in the cellar. His small, black eyes shifted constantly as if always on the alert for trouble. No one spoke.
Terro took some electric flex out of his pocket and twisted it nervously to and fro in his fingers. His skin was lighter than the others. Two small gold hoops pierced his bottom lip and another one pierced his left eyebrow. He spoke with a lisp, revealing the absence of four front teeth and a gold stud in the centre of his tongue.
Mlibo wished he could run away.
Terro’s fingers began to make loops in the flex and his hands shook slightly as he drew each knot tight. Blade continued sharpening his knife. The seconds ticked away slowly.
Suddenly there was the sound of footsteps approaching the cellar door. Lynch quickly pulled his feet off the table, leapt up and stood stiffly to attention.
The door opened to reveal a small, slim figure dressed in a black shirt and black trousers. The person moved rapidly down the steps and approached them.
Mlibo gasped. A beautiful young woman! The black hair drawn tightly back from her face revealed perfect features, but her dark brown eyes were hard and calculating as she disapprovingly looked Mlibo up and down.
“We brought him like you said, Queen,” Lynch declared eagerly.
Mlibo’s mouth was dry. What was going to happen?
“Get water and a spoon,” Queen demanded.
Blade ran up the stairs. Seconds later he reappeared with a cracked mug and an old bent spoon. He placed them carefully on the table in front of her. Without thanking him, Queen took a small phial from her pocket, unscrewed it and tipped some white powder into the water in the mug. She picked up the spoon and stirred until the powder was dissolved. Queen lifted the mug and offered it to Mlibo.
“Drink!” she ordered curtly.
Mlibo gazed in panic at the woman. Was it poison? Were they going to kill him? Instinctively he knew that he should not drink it. Terrified, he backed away from her.
“Hold him down!” Queen hissed.
Blade grabbed Mlibo by the arms and dragged him towards the table. The boy tried to get away but Lynch caught a firm hold of his legs and the two men lifted him onto the table.
“Yaaaaaaaaaah!” Mlibo screamed in terror.
Terro took hold of the boy’s head and yanked it backwards so that his mouth fell wide open. Queen moved swiftly forward, held Mlibo’s lips open in a vice-like grip and tipped the white liquid down his throat.
Mlibo choked, spat and tried not to swallow, but it was no good. His throat constricted involuntarily and the mixture trickled down his throat. He had no choice; he had to swallow.
Queen moved away and the men let go of the boy.
Mlibo rolled off the table and backed away to cower in a corner. He held his stomach tightly. What had he drunk? He tried to spit it out. He stuck his finger down his throat in an attempt to make himself vomit.
It did not work. Miserably, Mlibo slumped back against the wall and prepared himself for the worst. He was going to die!
The gang ignored him. Blade and Terro gathered eagerly near Queen who gave them some tiny white plastic bags. She gave Lynch a wad of money which he stuffed quickly into his trousers pocket.
Suddenly Mlibo knew what it was all about. Drugs! This woman was a drug dealer! How stupid he had been not to guess what was in those parcels!
Thabo had warned him not to get involved with the gangs. Mlibo’s head began to spin and psychedelic flashes whirled in front of his eyes. The floor lurched upwards to meet him and when the boy looked at Lynch, bright rainbows appeared over his head and the room danced to a thousand tunes.
Mlibo clutched the wall, dragged himself to his feet and stood swaying uncertainly as the room spun violently. Wherever he looked, he saw vivid changing patterns and intense colours.
“He’s ready,” Queen declared coldly. “Brand him!”
Mlibo teetered drunkenly. Blade and Terro moved forwards and each grabbed an arm to hold him still.
Lynch went to the fire, eased out a red-hot rod of metal and walked towards the boy.
The last thing Mlibo remembered was the sound of his own long howl of agony as the blistering hot metal seared the mark of the gang forever onto his upper arm.
Blade and Terro suddenly released their grip.
Mlibo staggered and fell flat onto his face on the bare concrete floor.
“Come,” ordered Queen. She headed towards the stairs. “He’ll be out cold for the rest of the night.”
Without a backwards glance Lynch, Blade and Terro followed Queen out of the cellar.
Post reading
| 1. | Describe Mlibo’s feelings when he is brought into the cellar. Why does he feel this way? |
| 2. | Nicknames are given to people for different reasons. Suggest some likely reasons for the names “Lynch”, “Blade”, “Terro” and “Queen”. |
| 3. | What do Lynch and Terro’s actions contribute towards the atmosphere of suspense? |
| 4. | What does Mlibo find amazing about the boss? |
| 5. | At first, Mlibo thinks he has been poisoned. What, in fact, has happened to him? |
— Chapter 5 —
Pre-reading
| 1. | Think of the thousands of people in South Africa who make a living out of picking up scrap and litter. They work hard to earn a mere pittance. |
| During reading | |
| 2. | Notice how the writer fills us in about different strands of the story in the same chapter. Humour and suspense are balanced in this way. |
“Shall I take this load to Louis?” Vuyo was helping Tembile and Victor fill an old, rusty trolley with cardboard boxes.
“Okay,” Victor agreed. “Tem and I’ll get that lot over there.”
Vuyo set off cheerfully, but it was hard work. The cardboard was heavy and the wheels of the rickety trolley did not want to go in the same direction that he was pushing.
“Here, I’ll help you,” Sizwe offered.
Tembile and Victor grabbed another trolley and rushed over to the fish shop where clouds of flies buzzed over the pile of rubbish in the side alley.
“Pfu! These stink!” complained Victor. “Shall we leave them?”
Tembile examined the cardboard and thought of the extra chips he would be able to buy with the proceeds.
“Hold your breath,” he suggested. “It won’t take long to sort it.”
Vuyo and Sizwe pushed the trolley to the building in the street where
