Max Annas - The Wall

“Well?” Nozipho asked.

“Pick something out.”

“But what?”

“Whatever fits. And looks good on you. And you like.”

“Hmm… And you think this is the best strategy?”

“Can you think of anything better? The maid get-up is only good as long as no one looks too closely. Now we need something new.”

Nozipho pulled a dress out of the closet. Yellow and white pinstripes. Sleeveless. She hung it back up. Another one was red with randomly splattered ochre spots. A plain one in navy.

“What’s wrong?” Thembinkosi asked. “They’re all nice.”

“Don’t really fit.”

“What do you mean? Too tight?”

Thembinkosi picked one up and examined it. It was black, and the fabric flowed pleasantly through his fingers. Somehow the fashionable dresses didn’t fit with the rest of the apartment.

“Obviously too tight.”

“Mmhmm… Just keep looking. You’ll find something.”

When Nozipho didn’t reply, he added: “And even if something’s a little tight… I like it that way. And the boys out there will, too!”

“Get out now,” Nozipho ordered. “I’ll figure it out.”

Hedges and walls, waist and shoulder high. For the time being, they were shielding him. Crouched between four houses, Moses saw the ninety-degree angles of the walls. The street he had just come from was behind him, the next one in front of him. This was the one he needed to cross now. And the one he was afraid of.

“The hunt has begun,” he muttered quietly.

A voice behind him. “He has to be somewhere.”

That was the white man. If he was talking to someone, then the car and whoever was in it had to be behind him as well. And the street in front of him might not be watched yet. So now he had to run. Moses burst through the hedge and caught sight of a barred living room window. To the right or the left past it? Didn’t matter.

He veered to the left.

Past the house with another wall along its side, now the front yard. Something was blooming there. He hesitated briefly before reaching the street, then sprinted on.

Quickly checked down the street both ways. The one side of the street was empty. Anything but empty in the other direction. He leaped into the next yard. Rapidly assessed the situation. One story. Blinds down. Good. Unoccupied or empty. Behind the house. Think fast.

The only thing sitting in front of him was the outer wall. What was it he had seen the split second before he had slipped back here? A car, parked, someone standing next to it. Had it been painted blue and silver like the security company vehicles? Yes, probably. So, another car. And the person? What did he remember? A man. No, a woman. How old? Who cared. He couldn’t remember all the details. The important thing was the car. Whoever had been sitting inside had seen him. And what would they do now? Drive in the direction that Moses would be heading. Toward the exit.

And so he would do the opposite. Even if it pained him to do so. Back toward the river, in the other direction. In the wrong direction. He kept running. Hedges and walls.

Walls and hedges.

He was now being careful whenever he leaped over them. After taking a few jumps, he knelt down and looked around. He hadn’t even noticed that the houses around him were all two-storied again. This wasn’t good, since it meant that he had finally reached the back part of the gated community. When all he wanted to do was get out of here.

Moses was crouched on a terrace decorated with an array of flower tubs. Colors splashed everywhere. Plastic table and chairs. Bars on the door and windows. He raised his head over the hedge and looked back.

He caught sight of a uniform back where the one-storied houses were standing. At least he had made the right decision. Running toward the exit would have put him on an intersect course with that man. A second person in uniform joined him. They were talking, coming in his direction. Walking. Far away. No danger.

For now.

He turned around.

In the neighboring yard, a man was standing on the terrace, gazing in his direction. Moses jerked his head down immediately. Scooted a little to the side. The bushes were a little less thick here. Tried to peer through them.

The man was around fifty. Heavyset. Mostly bald on the top. Probably blonde originally. T-shirt with the stupid Sharks logo, the one with the shark running around with a rugby ball. He now turned around and reached back before putting on some glasses. Stared back in his direction. Removed the glasses again. Squinted. Then vanished into his house.

Moses slowly turned around. The two guards were walking toward him, but were still far off. He squeezed through a gap in the hedge into the next yard. On hands and knees. Peeked over a wall that was only knee-high, into the house in which the man had just disappeared. He couldn’t see him through the terrace window.

That meant… absolutely nothing. The man might be hiding behind something and watching him, too. But what other choice did Moses have? He scrambled over the little wall and looked through the window once more. Nothing. Crawled on. Took a header over the next wall. Waist high. Landed in a bed. Pain. Moses pulled himself together and rolled on. A thorn was stuck in his lower arm. He pulled it out. Studied the small bush he had just flattened. Some kind of yellow fruit. The guards weren’t far now.

Getting closer, and he was caught in a corner formed by the outer wall. Close to the river. Scrambled over another wall and another hedge that he more squashed than cleared. Now he could see around a house corner.

Not far away, perhaps only three yards over, several people were standing and chatting. A guard was with them. Moses could sense their excitement. Most of them were white, only the guard was black. He really didn’t want to know what they were talking about. He wanted out of here. He wanted to get away. But how? Look around!

And Moses couldn’t believe what he saw. Shut his eyes and opened them again. It was true. The neighboring terrace door, only a few meters from him, was open a crack. People could be so careless, despite the fact they were so afraid of burglars, of black burglars… But when it came to precautionary measures, the normal ones, they failed miserably. Through the door and into the house. And then catch his breath. Like before. That was the new plan.

Nobody was looking his way. He very slowly pushed apart the hedge and crawled through. Slowly, don’t do anything frantically. Only a few more meters. The stretch between the well-manicured yard and the tiled terrace. The open door was almost within reach. Only one more meter.

He had to pull the door open a little, then he was through. Flipped over onto his stomach before sticking his head back out the door to check the situation. No one had noticed him.

Moses stood up and stretched out his back. All this crawling around was demeaning. The running, too.

As well as the hiding. He closed the door quietly and listened inside the house. Nothing. No noise anywhere. Nonetheless, he decided to be very careful. But first he needed something to drink.

Thembinkosi watched yet another security vehicle drive up. Now there were two Polos and a brand new Toyota bakkie from which emerged four more people. Five men and two women were now standing in front of the house, all in Central Alert uniforms. The driver of the second Polo looked like he was in charge or, at least, the highest ranking among them. He was talking and gesturing, and then he shrugged quickly. Just wait. He wagged his pointer finger, too. We’ll catch him. Someone in the group nodded. Of course, boss. What else could he say?

“Well?” He heard Nozipho behind him.