Max Annas - The Wall

A low hedge, stop, take the curve to the right, and slip between a house and a medium-height wall.

A female guard was walking toward him from the other side of the street. Shit. He came to an abrupt stop and ran back. The woman called out something. He took the next cut-through. Bad call. A sturdily built man stood there, grinning at him. He should have risked it with the woman. Although… You couldn’t be sure about anything these days. What he couldn’t do was stay put. He kept running and jumped at the man. Outstretched leg in the stomach. The guy collapsed and stayed on the ground. Moses kept running. Finally on the street. Turned left and continued running. Just don’t stop. A quick glance back. There were people. Not close.

Run.

He was sweating buckets.

Were these security guards carrying guns? Run , Moses thought. Just run .

“Should we?” Nozipho asked.

She tugged the dress straight and pivoted in front of Thembinkosi. Purse on her shoulder. She took a sniff under her arm. Wrinkled her nose.

“Yes… although… wait…”

“What is it?

“Just wait,” he said again. And then: “Come on!”

“What?”

“Just come!”

Nozipho walked over to the window. A third car was now sitting outside, covered by a section of the wall along the street. An old station wagon. A door opened, and a man stepped out. “Shit!” she said. “What should we do now?”

“Is that them? Have they come back?”

“How should I know?

“You’re the one who saw them,” Thembinkosi said.

“No, I didn’t.”

Two men in casual clothes were standing beside the white man. The one had curly hair, the other was bald. Both in jeans. The officer was telling them something, gesturing. The men nodded. One of them pointed at the house in which they were hiding. We can go in there, right?

The bald guy looked at his companion and pointed at the garage.

Thembinkosi grabbed Nozipho’s hand and picked up the briefcase. He pulled her into the smaller of the two bedrooms. Opened one of the doors to the wardrobe he’d looked in so long ago. Pushed her inside, closing the door behind her. Then vanished behind the adjacent door.

Both of them heard the squeaking of an unoiled garage door. Up. Engine noise. Then down.

Insane , Moses thought as he dashed down the street. First, the referee and the other white guy. And now the security people. Their numbers were increasing. And yet, all he had was an old car that wouldn’t start, which was why he needed help. But he had already assaulted three people. And interrupted two others having sex. Which was more serious?

And what would’ve happened if he’d just let the referee…

Screeching tires. Up ahead, yet another silver-and-blue vehicle. A bakkie that was speeding toward him. Moses glanced around. He was back in bungalow land. One-storied houses. Closer to the exit. Good.

But the car was driving at him. Very bad.

He decided to stay where he was standing for a moment. The car raced toward him. A small property wall to his right, less than a meter tall, and behind it a nicely manicured lawn. To his left, tall weeds and car parts in front of the front door. No hiding places on either side.

The bakkie didn’t slow down. On the contrary.

The bakkie was still forty meters away. Moses tensed his muscles. Twenty meters. Still wasn’t braking.

The bakkie had almost reached him. Three.

Two. One.

Moses threw himself to the right and rolled to the side. The driver hit his brakes hard.

Moses’ shoulder slammed into something. He leaped to his feet. Dashed across the perfect lawn. Saw some kind of movement inside the house, didn’t have time to concentrate on it. Heard the bakkie slam into reverse. Between several terraces and back doors. Finally stopped for a moment. Breathe evenly. His heart beat in unison.

“He’s back here!” A woman’s voice. Behind him. In the house with the super-lawn? No time to look back.

In front of him, a row of bungalows. Beyond it, another street.

Crap. The referee was also in front of him. Had just caught sight of a patch of blue from his t-shirt.

The referee had also seen him. Was walking toward him. Wait a second longer. Lure him over. Away from the street. Then back again.

Moses took the next cut-through. The bungalow was now to his right. A wall that increased in height, step by step, to his left. If he had given the referee enough time, he wouldn’t turn around but would run after him.

This was the next street. A little further to his left was a nanny with a small white child. Moses couldn’t tell if it was a boy or a girl.

The nanny shook her head. Not in her direction? Is that what she meant? The other direction seemed empty.

From where the nanny and child were standing came another voice. “Is he out there?”

Moses crossed the street. Dove headfirst over a knee-high wall and landed on a bag of trash. He remained stretched out on the ground and waited for something to happen.

The garage door rolled down.

“Didn’t I tell you?” A high masculine voice. No answer to the question.

“You almost lost it.” The same voice. Pissing in the toilet. Followed by flushing.

“You know what?” Again the high voice. “It’s funny how long you can smell perfume. I mean… Gwen’s been gone… How long is her training? Five days. And yet that perfume is still in the air. I can smell it so clearly. Really weird.”

The sound of boots in the house. “I gave her that for her birthday, remember? The salesgirl had just looked at me when I’d asked her about it. Well… you know already. And then I gave her a super sexy slip as well. Hot. Really hot. You know.”

Thembinkosi grew warm. Hopefully, High Voice wouldn’t want to show the other man the slip. Was that what he had? In his jacket pocket? And had Nozipho really tidied up the bedroom?

“What should we do now?” Again, High Voice.

“Can you shut up for just a second?” Notably deeper, different. Someone who didn’t say much.

“Of course!” High Voice. “You know I can keep my trap shut. But that was awesome with the security guys out there. I mean…”

“Just be quiet!”

“Okay. Okay.”

Footsteps. The boots and other shoes. Was High Voice wearing soft soles? Quiet squeaking on the floor. What kind of floor was that anyway? Didn’t matter. Tiles , Thembinkosi thought, of course . It was hotter in the wardrobe than it was outside of it. He wanted to wipe the sweat from his face, but it was too tight for that.

He very cautiously scratched the wardrobe partition that separated him from Nozipho. A responding scratch came instantly from the other side.

“What should we do now?” High Voice. “We can’t just take her out of here now.”

“No, we can’t!”

Moses cowered behind the wall. Half on the trash bag, half off. A dead bird was lying next to his head. Dark with a streak of red. Ants had already begun blazing a trail to start the evisceration process. Just lie here for a bit , he thought. Had the nanny warned him? Black solidarity?

Maybe that’s what it was. A few black families had to be living in here. Somewhere he was bound to be able to get help. He recalled the Kaizer Chiefs banner in the window. That had been ages ago. He looked at his watch. 2:06.

“Is he over here?” Moses heard a voice. That was the white guy with the club.

“No, boss!” The nanny.

“If you see him… let me know!”

“Yes, boss!” She was actually helping him. Good woman. A motor. Brakes.

“He isn’t here.” The white guy. On the street right in front of him.