Chapter four
Entering Mark’s house, with the gate being left open. The entire structure looked the same; it was surprising that it was still holding together with no hope of reparations. The peach colour had remained; however, it now finds itself in desperate need of repainting. The significant change was that there was no Blonde, woman in a towel, as Mark opened the door. Something about the initial words would make sure this visit would be one that was not welcomed.
“What do you want now?”
Mark asked as he looked like a man whose best years were ten years ago. Spotting an all grey Nike sweat fit, he looked like someone who smucked a jog but didn’t need one. No time wasted, hostility was the theme of the day, especially with someone who had threatened him. Sizwe pushed passed Mark to enter the house, and took a seat on one of the smaller blue couches that formed part of a 3-piece set. The house was either minimalist or didn’t have much furniture; there was a coffee table in the centre of the lounge, with its components held together only by tape. One would think this was a trap house. A child and the baby mother would never live in such conditions. One had to conclude the mother of the child had got her place without the help of Mark.
“Something to drink then? Since you are making yourself comfortable without an invite”
“You call this place comfortable? Glad to see you still have jokes. I am not sure what you have in this place, would you call ahhh home? But something Alcoholic would work.
Mark made his way towards the kitchen, in his Nike slippers matching an entire Sports attire that featured his favourite sports team, Chelsea. Sizwe was left alone and facing what looked like a T.V Stand which had an old-school Television, those with a little personality to them in the back. On the stand stood old pictures of what appeared to be a happy Caucasian family. The reality of the state of household told one of a family torn apart, ept together only by memories of a house which was on its last legs. Mark returned with a bottle of Castle lite, with its cap still screwed on tight, as a token of his hostility.
“Here. Don’t choke, do look I left it closed so you wouldn’t assume I did anything it.”
“I appreciate that”
Mark sat on a couch on the left side of Sizwe; there was a lack of finesse in the way he crossed his legs. It appeared there was a high amount of tension in his body. It would have been difficult to comprehend why that would be as he is a person who shoots teenage boys. Being a killer was in veins and was starting to show by the desire in his eyes as he watched Sizwe take his first sip. Looking at his throat take a gulp, what he would love to do with his delicate hands, groping that beer out of his throat.
“Are you looking to take tips on how to drink a beer?
“No no, only wondering what brings you here after vowing to want anything to do with me.”
Sizwe put down his beer after taking a big sip, thirst for blood was not easy to satisfy yet somehow Castle lite had to be enough for now.
“Okay, bullshit aside I am here to talk about you shooting someone.”
“Well, …you going to have to be more specific than that. You know who I am, I tend to do that more than I would like to please but it happens.”
“Thinking about it, I am not sure how your racism was not clear to me because I am sure that is why you could not stomach seeing my son with your daughter.”
There was a stillness, a dead stare between both Fathers. A simultaneous stand from both men one surprised by the development of the situation, and another confronting his past demons. It became a stand-off, Sizwe clenched his fist signalling the calmness had faded from his body, with rage finally taking over him. Knowing very well that if he were to get into an altercation with Mark, it would probably end in never seeing his family again. So he let go of the pain, for now, he had to be a little rational. A smirk manifested on Mark’s face, spreading from ear-to-ear.
“Isn’t it funny that this drug is like a trail, one you helped formed and it is still following you around even though your son. Me, shooting your son had nothing to do with Race, it was about him being with my daughter.”
Sizwe chuckled and could not believe what was being said to him, the chuckle escalated into a laugh. For a second it felt like a laugh from a villain who had engineered their master plan. Except there was no hero in this story, definitely Mark would not be cast as one either. A conclusion was made that war with Mark would only be won through the involvement of parties, which meant something to each of them. Sizwe lifted his hands, as a sign of resignation of the situation. Making his way back to his vehicle was not a sign of defeat but rather a strategic move. Mark followed and watched as a BMW 3-series left his house, wondering what made BMW such an appealing car to successful black folk. In less than 5 minutes, his two goons came in speeding as if they were a security detail responding to alarm distress. Both of them were dressed in all black, holding guns as they disembarked the vehicle; it would’ve been Sizwe’s funeral if he stayed a little longer.
“Took you two long enough, I sent you a message in the Kitchen when I was getting him a beer. Now you missed him, including wasting my time. If I by any chance I find out that you were getting high off your supply, there will be problems.
Roads appear a little different when you have rage spewing all over your face. There is an appearance of only seeing something one dimensional. This dimension came to Sizwe as he knew the man he was in bed with is someone dirty and the only way he could get any pleasure from this encounter was to strike Mark at the core. The GPS had started to point in the direction of home as these parts were ones he had forgotten about, at the same time there was a part of him that knew there was nothing for him at work. Yes, Mdu had finally been released from Hospital, with Phila taking days off at work to look after their child; but Sizwe’s presence, with his mind so clouded, would be unpleasant.
Looking at the time, it was almost 14:00 pm, so there was still time to go past his son’s high school. Residing outside the school, all the students coming out; it was like a flood of milk with sprinkles of black chocolate drowning in search of their identity. Sizwe had decided to go through his son’s phone in hospital, only to gather information as to who Mdu this Desdemona was. There she was, the centre of attention as a group of Caucasians ladies were exiting the gate conversing about their social currency. Their Green uniform did not do them any favours, luckily there had never been a schools fashion week, or this school would come last without even entering the competition. Jessica had dispersed from her group of friends, crossing the street and being in clear vision of Sizwe, but he knew there wasn’t anything he could do in public. Moving was a Toyota Corolla, en route to their house was Jessica and her mother, the blonde lady from his early drug days who was difficult to miss on the hand of the steering wheel. Tailing a car looked easy in movies, but Sizwe knew that it was easier said than done. He assumed that the mother had a specific idea of knowing whether or not she was being tailed; if she had been with Mark long enough, she’d come to know if a BMW was tailing her, turning at each turn she took. Her experience started to show as there was an increase in speed and movement, especially on the high way. Lucky for Sizwe, there were some cars on the road so he could keep a reasonable distance while moving so there was no grounds for suspicion. The Toyota had eventually taken its off-ramp, there was a delay from Sizwe as it felt like a tour of another part of the northern suburbs of Joburg. Majority of them had high roads, with even taller houses populating them. They eventually pulled up into a house, with a wall that stood tall. A tall wall born out of the fear that thieves primary root of exit would be merely jumping a fence, especially after committing a crime in such a well-protected neighbourhood. Sizwe had seen the Toyota enter a black gate, he parked his car a little closer to it but was not sure how to approach the situation from this point. It is effortless to talk a big game as to how you are going to save the day, but it becomes a little harder when you have to follow throw with your words. Something became apparent, the gate had not closed, and it wouldn’t have surprised him if the blonde lady identified a BMW follow them for more than 30 minutes.
Approaching the gate was the only card left to play in an already empty hand. Entering with caution seemed logical, but it wouldn’t be irrational to think Dominic could have texted Mark when it occurred to her that trouble could be looming. Meaning Sizwe would be trapped and all signs pointed to that direction as the gate closed immediately as the car was in the driveway. Marveling at the meticulous design of the house, one would think Pablo Escobar left home for South Africa to rent to this very family. Sizwe tried to take it all in, picturing Phila’s car part in one the four wooden garage doors. Her all black Porsche reflecting well with the white paint of the double story house made a treat with the glass windows above the dooraking sure you see the beauty of the fountain before you went to bed. A place his family could’ve made a home in if Phila had the stomach to take in the fact that a little drug money could have been their ticket to the upper north side. There had been a short time to take everything as he saw the blonde lady spotting jeans and a white shirt, but it had been the shotgun in her hands which moved him. Not sure how she was able to hold it with such little weight on her, but stepping out slowly with his hands up was the next logical move to make.
“What the fuck do you want here?”
Contemplating whether, but the way she held the gun, it looked like the gun would eventually be too heavy for her so prolonging the conversation would be to his benefit.
“I am only here to talk, can we possibly do that?”
“If you wanted to talk, then you would have pulled up next to me at school. There was no need to follow me into my house.’’
She mad a valid point, but the pointing of the gun made it more convincing. Maybe it would have been safer around other families; it was too late for maybes
“Okay before I divulge my reasoning, may I please get your name as I am tired of referring you to as the blonde lady. Is it too much for the lowering of the gun? ”
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“My name is if you don’t tell me why you hear, it won’t matter what my name is. Also gun stays.”
Sizwe’s shoulders were starting to hurt from holding up his hands, it felt like being part of an altar call, but the pastor comes to you last. Deciding to put down his hands would appear as the sign of waging war which would be difficult without him having any weapon at his disposal.
“I am Sizwe; I came here in hopes we could discuss how your husband, or ex, shot my son for dating the lovely lady up there who seems to have been watching up our interaction from the balcony.”
A look of bemusement took over her, settling as she lowered the gun to better handle the situation. Her daughter had seen a different side to her mother, one she had kept hidden since last time it was revealed when she had been with Mark during altercation at their old house. Making her way from the door to, in perfect sight to see her daughter, unarmed, she realized that situation had escalated to a critical point. Jessica had been holding a phone in her hand throughout the entire ordeal, knowing the youth of today it was possible for her to record and post it on social media, but that would do more harm than good.
“Jessica sweetie, please go back inside the house. Everything is okay.”
Jessica looked at her mother for a while, contemplating whether or not to leave the woman she loved with a man who birthed a son that broke her heart. Deciding to admit defeat seemed a good move. Now, the Blonde lady was close to Sizwe, unarmed, which worked for his shoulders setting them down and stretching them to get a bit of feeling back into them.
“Sorry about that Sizwe, my name is Dominic. I had never thought we would officially meet this way, but I am not surprised to hear Mark have done something as horrific as shooting your child. How can I help?”
A look of confusion enveloped Sizwe, trying to figure out how Dominic knew his name but men tend to pillow talk with the woman they believe to be in love with at the time. Remembering how she looked before age and one child caught up with her, it was not a surprise to him that Mark spilled the beans. All the while in his thoughts, she spoke again.
“Don’t be surprised I know your name; Mark told me that if anyone could bring down his operation, it would be you. Making him very cautious over you, so he decided to tell me about you and throw in a picture here and there. I knew it was you who was following us when we left the school, never did I expect you to follow me into our house thus my reaction with the gun.”
“What do you mean by ‘our’ I thought it was only you and Jessica.”
“See what happens when you think? Mark and I are still together sweetie. He should be arriving…”
A motion, which saw the gate opening, Sizwe did not bother to look back knowing very who would be coming and his fate seemed sealed as soon as the gate closed in with an all-black BMW entering the house. Three people got out, one of them being Mark, with his goons in tow. Each of them holding Pistols, if this was Sizwe’s last day it was going to happen in a part of town where the neighbours had taken part in their share of crime, by stealing from the black people of this nation. So a little shooting would not ruin the neighbourhood’s integrity.
“You going to kill me with your daughter around Mark? I know you are tough but to shoot a boy she loved and then kill his father. Must you be on a roll huh?”
His two goons went straight for Sizwe and grabbed him on opposite sides, ensuring there was no movement. In the mean time, Mark was inserting a silencer into his gun; preparing to end this confrontation. There was a level of finesse in which he did this with; you could tell it was not his first rodeo. Pointing the weapon directly to Sizwe’s forehead with the trigger ready to be pulled.
“Any Last words?”
“Yes actually…… JESSICA!!!”
Dominic became frantic and a little confused as she looked for her daughter, it escalated when their daughter appeared from the door, still in her uniform. It was as if everything stood still for her; Mark had not moved his positioning even though his wife’s fractiousness. Not once did he flinch. One would assume the typical reaction after seeing his daughter would move him, but it did not matter at all, showing how blinded he had become by the bloodlust that manifested itself in his eyes. Jessica stared at her father. She had a look of plea directed at Mark, in hopes of saving Sizwe’s life.
“Go back into the house Jessica, right now,” Mark Said
“I know what you did dad, Mdu told me everything, and now it all makes sense why you wear these expensive suits, drive a fancy car, but you never go to an office. Why you don’t participate in career day as well. Anyway, I told them dad, and they are on their way.”
In saying that statement, Mark decided to resign his gun. A huge sigh of relief was released by Sizwe; he never thought his son would indirectly save his life for the moment. For some reason, the goons did not follow their leader and still held when they could have let go.
“Oh no, what do you want darling?”
“Nothing dad, I have already taken care of it.”
On Sizwe’s face, a smile grew; he knew something that everyone else did not. It was a good move on his part to communicate with his son about going to see Jessica’s parents about the shooting. For Mdu, it made no sense as to how his father would make an impact by going there but had to make sure that if anything happened that the police would be notified. A message relayed to Jessica, who did not hesitate when her mother pulled a gun on Mdu’s father. Sirens sang as the gate opened; the boys in Blue do respond quicker in these parts of town. There had been no time to entirely remove guns from the situation, meaning Dominic still had hers by the waist. Mark and his goons could not even pretend to have been innocent in that situation, with their gloves still on, pistols in hand. Cops had decided not to park inside, as it was starting to look like an episode of Top Gear with all the different cars being showcased in the driveway. Two men in uniform jumped off, caring guns and moving like they were recreating Bad Boy featuring Thabo le Jabu.
“What is going on here? Why are there so many weapons?”
Asked one of the cops who lacked height but made up for it in weight. It was apparent he was in charge as he pointed to his junior, who had the height but was physically in need of a little more time in the gym, to call it in. Both men did not expect such a scene; the majority of the time when they visit these parts was to follow up on break ins reported from the previous night. It was a little differing seeing a black man held by other two black men with a white man looking like he was about to collect a body. Dominic tried to save the day
“Officer, as you can see, our home has an intruder, so we decided to take care of them ourselves.”
Said in a rehearsed white women accent, spilling privilege with each word. Both of the cops chuckled.
“Woooo ma’am this is not America one? Here you don’t take care of a situation like this by yourselves. Plus your daughter told us that you were close to firing the gun. We are going to take all of you in a while tracing the guns. I am very sure that when we do that, it will be very apparent that these guns are illegal. Heck, you never know we might also find a link to some unsolved killings through the ballistics.”
Back up came quicker than anyone expected, so these new cops had to be in the neighbourhood. The police placed everyone in handcuffs, including Sizwe; it was probably a formality despite it not making any sense how a trespasser would be allowed to drive home safely.
