No Turning Back (9 page)

T
he days followed in the same pattern as his first week at Mr. Danny’s. Six long days of working in the shop with only Sunday free for a few hours to go looking for his friends. In the evenings David had nothing to do with him and made a point of calling Copper away if he saw him with Sipho. Judy remained very friendly, while Mama Ada also took an interest in him. She was especially pleased whenever she saw Judy helping him at night with some writing.

“It’s good. You must study hard. Then you can be someone in life,” she commented as she cleared the dishes from the table.

But Sipho continued to be tired by the evening and not able to take much in. The work at Danny’s Den became harder and his time off at midday shorter after Mr. Danny had an argument with Maria. It was about her being late. When Mr. Danny shouted that he was going to take some money off her wages, Maria declared
that she wanted to be paid right away. She was leaving. Her brother was getting her a job in a supermarket right near her home. And it was going to be more money. Mr. Danny could keep his job!

“You people are all the same!” Mr. Danny said angrily. “You want something for nothing. You come late but I must pay you. Then you hear about an easier job and you leave.”

Sipho was inside the shop, watching the whole scene. Mr. Danny opened the register and flung some notes and a few coins down on the counter in front of her. Catching Sipho’s eye, Maria nodded at him grimly. With a loud complaint about bosses who expected you to work for next to nothing, she strode angrily out into the street. Seeing Sipho silently standing there, Mr. Danny suddenly turned on him. His face was still red from the argument, and his mouth and mustache twitched as he spoke sharply.

“What are you doing there, just standing? You’ll have to help with Maria’s work until I can find someone else!”

By the time they were going home in the car, he seemed a little calmer. He even said that he was sorry for having been short-tempered with Sipho.

“But you know it’s not easy to run a shop. There’s always something to worry about.”

It was a few days later that Mr. Danny announced that some of his stock was missing. There had been a delivery of jeans, but some of the batch seemed to be gone. They hadn’t been sold—and that could mean only one thing. Mr. Danny questioned Sipho.

“I don’t know, Mr. Danny,” was all he could say.

But when Mr. Danny started talking about
malunde,
he became worried.

‘Are you sure that some of your street friends aren’t wearing nice new jeans, Sipho?” The one eyebrow was raised.

Was Mr. Danny accusing him? Of stealing the jeans for his friends? He was almost too shocked to reply. He shook his head fiercely. A lump in his stomach seemed to shoot up to his throat and stick there. At last he swallowed and managed to get out some words.

“How can I do that, sir?”

“Well, it’s very strange, Sipho…very strange. But I’ll get to the bottom of it in the end. I always do.”

Mr. Danny’s words hung like a threat over Sipho for the rest of the day.

It felt as if Mr. Danny’s eyes too were following him everywhere in the shop. Whenever he happened to look in Mr. Danny’s direction,
there were the eyes looking at him. As they traveled back to the house after work, Mr. Danny usually talked. But this evening he remained completely silent. Mama Ada knew something was wrong as soon as she opened the door. There was no “Evening, Ada!” Just a surly glance. Copper seemed to guess his master’s mood too. His eyes looked doleful and his tail less jaunty as he rubbed himself up against Sipho’s legs.

At dinner, when Judy asked what was wrong, her father replied in a low, serious tone that some stock was missing.

“How could that happen, Dad?”

“That’s just what I don’t know, Jude…just what I don’t know.”

As he looked up from his plate, Sipho caught Judy’s eyes flicking away from him. He didn’t look at David. He could imagine the fixed stare and, this time, a sneer.

He went to his bedroom early to avoid being in the family room with them all. How could he prove that he knew nothing about the missing jeans? Judy wouldn’t want to believe he was a thief, but if her father said it was very suspicious, then what would she think? Once again, he began to think it would be simplest if he went back to the streets. But if he went now, they would all believe he was guilty…

Thirsty for a drink of water, he went to the
kitchen. Mama Ada was just preparing to leave but stopped when she saw him.

“What is this I hear, my child?” she said, frowning.

He hoped her deep, searching eyes would know that he was telling the truth as he went over what had happened. Mama Ada sighed.

“In this life there’s always trouble. But maybe Mr. Danny will find what he has lost.”

Mama Ada was right. When Sipho came into the kitchen for breakfast the next morning, Mr. Danny was at the kitchen table, smiling. He had spent the night checking his papers and found a mistake in his records. There were no jeans missing after all! The delivery had been smaller than what he had ordered, but the full number had still been written in the book. It had happened the day after Maria had left.

“You know, Sipho, my mind must have been really wandering then!” He brushed his mustache with his forefinger. “I have to admit I was very worried that I’d made a big mistake about you. Lots of shopkeepers have stories about street children stealing from them. They would say I was a real fool…”

Sipho could tell that Mama Ada was listening as she dished up the porridge behind Mr. Danny. She gave him a wink as she came across to the
table, a bowl in each hand. Sipho tried to relax. But inside himself, he felt the knot that had been there all night still tightly twisted. Even Judy’s wide-open laugh didn’t untwist it.

“Honestly, Dad, you’ll really have to watch yourself in your old age! Getting everyone worried like that!”

She turned to Sipho.

“Dad is hardly a brilliant detective, is he?” She grinned.

He could feel she was trying to cheer him up, but it was difficult to respond. Did Judy have any idea what it felt like to be accused of being a thief one minute and then be expected to forget it all the next minute, because it was a mistake?

That evening, when Judy asked if he wanted to do some reading or play cards, he said he was too tired and would go to bed early again. He could tell from her face that she was disappointed. But he wanted to be alone. All day in the shop, he had felt Mr. Danny was trying to be nice to him. He had even sent him to buy burgers and chips for them at midday. What he needed, however, was time to think. The one person he would like to talk to wasn’t even able to come into Danny’s Den, let alone Mr. Danny’s house.

W
hen he turned on the light in the bedroom, the first thing that caught Sipho’s eye was a folded piece of paper propped up on the desk next to his bed. In large letters was written the word THIEF. The pile of old grade two books that had belonged to David—which he kept on the desk—was also missing.

His first instinct was to tear the note up. The anger hidden deep inside when Mr. Danny suspected him now wanted to burst out. But no, he wouldn’t tear the paper up. He would go and face them all with it. Let David explain in front of them all what he meant. He was sick and tired of David looking at him like he was a nothing…a piece of dirt…and now a thief.

With the paper in his hand, Sipho hurried back down the corridor toward the family room. The door was slightly open, and he was about to push it when he stopped himself. An argument was going on, and he heard his
name. Judy was saying something about him.

“It’s not right, Dad! Kids of his age should be in school! Like me and Dave.”

Her voice was determined.

“He could work in the shop
after
school and on the weekend,” she added.

“Look here, Judy, I can’t—and you can’t—sort out the world’s problems. There are dozens of street kids. Next thing you’ll be saying I must get them into school too.”

“No, I’m not. I’m talking about Sipho.”

Sipho could imagine Judy’s deep blue eyes steadily fixed on her father’s face.

“He should be grateful just to have a job and a roof over his head. Have you forgotten the state he was in when I took him in?”

Sipho clenched his fists, crumpling the paper. He listened as Mr. Danny started talking about how he had left school at fourteen. “I was buying and selling when I was hardly older than Sipho. You forget that. I’d gone bust three times before I was twenty!”

“But at least you could read and write properly before you left school, Dad.”

“Listen. I’m giving that boy a chance to learn something about business. And if he wants to succeed, he’ll succeed!”

“Then why don’t you pull Dave out of school and let him do the same?”

“For God’s sake, Jude, there’s a difference. David is my son. I’m just giving Sipho a helping hand. You need to get it into your head that I’m not running a full-scale charity!”

There was silence in the room. Sipho held his breath. Was there any point in going in?

“You, my dear Judy, might enjoy being Miss Lady Charity, but as far as I’m concerned Sipho is another employee to me—”

“So what do you pay him then, Dad?” interrupted Judy.

“Isn’t it enough that he’s being better fed and looked after than he’s been in his whole life? And if David, my own son, continues to be unhappy with him here, then something will have to be done.”

Sipho didn’t want to hear any more. All this pretense of being a friend was just a lie of Mr. Danny’s. What was the point in staying? Mr. Danny was going to throw him out anyway. He would rather leave himself. He flung down the crushed paper in his hand. It landed in the middle of the hallway with the offensive word staring upward through the creases. Tears were blurring the pattern on the red carpet as he darted to the door. Lifting the chain, he pulled and tugged at the handle. Cold air hit him in the face. He needed to dash to the bedroom to collect his jacket, but at that moment he heard Mr.
Danny’s voice coming closer. They were coming out of the family room. He didn’t want to see them, not even Judy She would insist that he must stay, and there would be a scene. With a quick jab at the gate button, he slipped out and pulled the heavy door shut behind him. His heart was doing its puppy-dog thumping as he ran toward the gate. Copper was barking behind the front door. He would have liked to stroke him one last time to say goodbye.

Once past the moving gate, Sipho was absorbed into the darker shadows of the road. Above him the leaves in the trees were fluttering wildly. He was running as fast as he could, the wind biting right through his sweater into his skin. A sudden spate of barks from behind a high wall made him flinch and cross to the other side of the road. His own rapid breaths seemed to pound in his ears. When he heard his name being called by a girl’s voice in the distance behind him, it already seemed to come from a world away. A minute later, the sound of a car approaching made him turn and strain his eyes against the headlights. Was it Mr. Danny? Were they coming after him? But the car whisked by, its red tail lights disappearing down the road ahead. Once again, he was quite alone.

Around the corner, something came flying toward his face. He put out his hand. Just a
plastic bag whipped up by the wind. The last time he remembered the wind as fierce as this, Ma had been worried that the sheet of iron covering their home would be blown away. It was only held down by a few heavy stones. He and Ma had searched through their belongings for something else heavy to put on the roof, but there was nothing. His stepfather was out, as usual. The two of them had sat close together on the bed, listening to the wind shaking and rattling everything around them.

He could even remember the story Ma had told him about the wind and the sun having a contest to show which was stronger. The wind had lost in Ma’s story. With it raging all around them at the time, he had thought Ma had made her story up to make him feel better. And then all of a sudden everything had gone quiet and they had both gone to sleep, Ma in her bed and he on his mattress on the floor. But later, when his stepfather had returned, it was like being waked up by a whirlwind raging inside the room instead of outside.

Sipho’s mind returned to that night as, now running, now jogging, now walking—sometimes partly pushed by the wind, sometimes struggling against it—he weaved his way back toward Hillbrow. What was Ma doing tonight? Was she sitting on the bed all by herself, listening to the
wind tugging at the roof? What if it succeeded and the metal sheet went flying off, sending the stones clattering down? What then? And what…Sipho blocked off his mind. He needed to concentrate on getting across a main road wide enough for three lanes of cars traveling in each direction. But once he was on the other side, still pushing himself against the wind, a picture forced itself clearly into his mind. What if Ma’s baby had arrived by now and Ma was left cradling the baby while the shack crashed down all around her? Who would be there to help?

No, he couldn’t worry about that. It wasn’t his problem. He needed to attend to finding Jabu and the others—and somewhere to sleep for the night. He couldn’t have chosen a worse night to leave Mr. Danny’s. But then he hadn’t stopped to think whether it was a sensible thing to do. It was a bit like running away the first time. Something inside him had just said he must do it—and that was it.

With the wind so strong, there were fewer people than usual out on the streets leading up to Hillbrow. Jabu and the others would surely have already set themselves up for the night at the back of the drugstore, huddling together to keep warm. Tomorrow he would have to go to Rosebank to earn enough money to buy another jacket. Perhaps Jabu would come with him again.

Arriving at Checkers, Sipho looked for the gang of
malunde
who usually made their fire on the opposite pavement. But they were not there tonight. It must have been too windy for them. Walking down the street, he glanced at everyone he passed. Two children were crouched in a shop doorway, but he didn’t recognize them. Seeing ahead of him a couple of adults covered with a blanket, he stepped out into the road so as not to pass by too close. Coming at last to the block with the drugstore, Sipho made his way to the back alley. He had only been there in the daytime before. There had been nothing frightening about it then. But tonight, with the streetlight only reaching the entrance, it looked very dark, long and lonely.

To get to the
pozzie
meant passing by a number of other backyards. Biting his lower lip, Sipho entered the narrow passage. The smell of rotting food made him hold his nose. He wanted to run ahead to get away from it but, not able to see where he was going, he stubbed his toe against something and almost tripped. Trying to adjust his eyes to the dimness ahead, he wondered if he should call out. If the gang was still awake, he would hear their voices and, with luck, see flickering sparks from a fire. But ahead there was only darkness and complete quiet. Surely they hadn’t already gone to sleep? Putting out
his right hand to feel the height of the backyard walls and find the one that was a little lower, Sipho edged his way forward.

Reaching it, he called softly. “Jabu? Lucas? Joseph?”

There was no reply—and no sound or sign of any fire. Quickly he began to feel around the brickwork for the hole that would give him a foothold. Finding it, he swung himself up and peered over the wall. Even in the darkness he could tell that the yard was completely empty.

He stood there suspended for a few moments, wondering what to do. Should he climb into the yard and stay there, hoping the others would return? It would be very cold and very scary on his own. What if they had gone back to the first
pozzie?
To get there he would have to walk by the park where the
tsotsi
gangsters hung out. He didn’t like that. Perhaps he would walk a bit through Hillbrow and, if he didn’t find the gang there, he would come back to the yard a little later.

He was getting down from the wall when suddenly he was aware that someone else was in the alley. A match was struck, and in that split second of flickering light he sensed a large figure looming toward him with something glinting in its hand.

“Come here, you!”

Sipho leaped and ran.