Max Annas - The Wall

“As long as he’s out there…” Nozipho said, her voice was lowered. Distant. “Man, it’s hot in here!” he heard her continue.

Thembinkosi had no idea where his wife was at the moment.

“Of course!” he said. “We’ll just wait.”

Outside the guard was still sitting on the hood of his Polo. He was nodding, either into the phone or to himself, and wasn’t saying anything, or was listening, or was doing both. Thembinkosi wished he could see more of the street, to get a better perspective. Somewhere inside the house, a door slammed heavily. That’s right, they hadn’t checked out the garage.

The boy he’d seen run past. Was all this about him? He hadn’t seen much of him. About twenty, maybe. Fit. What could he have done in here? What had he pulled off that would justify a chase? Was the guard calling for backup?

They had to get out of here somehow. Maybe Nozipho needed to change clothes. There were enough women’s clothes in the house. If she looked nice enough, nobody would try to stop her. At least not a black security guy. He wouldn’t dare , Thembinkosi thought.

How should you move if you don’t want to attract attention? And where were the next cameras?

Moses was back out on a street in the middle of The Pines. It had a slight curve to it, and he could see a fair distance in both directions. Good, if he wanted to see what was going on. Bad, if he wanted to avoid being seen, he thought.

The outer wall was behind the row of houses behind this one. He weighed his options. It was hard to see the wall from the street since it was always at the back end of someone’s property line. This was a good thing since he could climb it without being seen by the referee, his wingman, or the security guy. The down side was that anyone stuck in bed sick or skipping out on work today would see him. Someone with a phone. Someone with a weapon.

Moses reached the next T-intersection. Looked around, then to the left and right. Disappeared between a two-storied house and a waist-high wall. A swift survey of the windows, a brief listening for threatening sounds. Nothing.

He was standing at the wall.

He couldn’t hear the river from here, since the land rose uphill on the other side of the wall. Moses stood on his tiptoes. With his arms outstretched, he could just reach the upper edge. No protrusions or holes that would make the climb any easier. However, the greatest obstacles were the wires that ran along the top of the wall. Moses counted them. Four all told. He had no idea if he’d feel a twinge if he touched them, or if he’d end up roasted like a chicken in the oven. And there was no way he was going to test it. He just wanted out. Somewhere behind him, the sound of an engine. He looked around, but couldn’t see anything from here.

He suddenly recalled a TV show he’d once seen. Not on SABC, probably online, maybe on YouTube. Some kind of scientific experiment in which someone had thrown aluminum foil over an electric fence in order to disrupt the current. Something from the US. It had been easy to climb over the fence after that. Breaking in for beginners. Was that realistic? he wondered. And if so: Where the hell could he get some aluminum foil?

Thembinkosi opened the briefcase, adding the ring and pen to the cash and jewelry from the previous house with the little dog. He then shut it and picked it up. The clattering bothered him. He walked back into the larger of the two bedrooms and opened the wardrobe. Shirts you’d wear if you were a farmer. Cargo pants with outer pockets. He shook his head. Nozipho had been right. He took three of the shirts from their hangers. Opened the briefcase again and lay the shirts inside. Shut it again. Picked it up. The clattering was gone. Went back to the front of the house.

He cautiously approached the window. The guard was just standing up from the hood and was waving at someone some distance away. A few seconds later, a second Polo joined the first one. Two men and a woman were sitting inside. The driver rolled down the window to chat with his colleague who’d already been standing there for a while. Then the three new arrivals got out of their car. The driver was in his mid-forties, and he moved as if this wasn’t his first rodeo. The other man and the woman were young. Rookies. Glanced around. Had come along to learn something.

Rookies were always bad news. Sense of responsibility, minimal experience, no broader perspective. An unpleasant cocktail that could quickly lead to overzealousness.

“Thembi!” Nozipho called. She was much too loud. He kept his eyes on the four on the street, but none of them seemed to have heard anything. Nozipho only said “Thembi” when she was sexually aroused—or in danger. “Thembi!” she called again.

“Sssshhh!” he said much quieter. “I’m on my way.”

“Thembi, come here!” The garage door slammed again with a dull thud. Nozipho stood in front of him, her mouth open.

“What is it?”

Nozipho tried to talk. Failed. Her eyes… Thembinkosi had never seen her eyes like this. What was it? Panic? No… Horror.

“What is it?” he asked again.

Nozipho opened and shut her mouth, but couldn’t make a sound. She held out her hand, which was shaking. Thembinkosi took it and let himself be led away. Together they walked down the narrow hallway to a metal door. Nozipho opened it, and they entered the garage. Hardly any breathable air, so stuffy and hot. At the end of a cable, a lightbulb dangled from the ceiling, providing the empty space with a little light. Two or three sunbeams had managed to creep under the door that led outside. The space smelled of engine oil. A shelving unit stood against the wall. Tool boxes. Cooler. Rubber boots. A steel cabinet stood open, almost empty except for two yellow plastic containers. Thembinkosi caught sight of a very large freezer in the corner. That was it.

Nozipho pulled him toward it. She stopped in front of it and stared at the lid.

It took a few seconds for Thembinkosi to realize that he was supposed to raise it. He grabbed the handle and slowly opened the chest.

In the dim light, he could make out the outlines of a human body. He swiftly slammed the freezer shut.

A tall ladder or aluminum foil? Or some other way out? But how?

Moses returned to the street and glanced around. A mail carrier two corners down was busy doing what he was paid for. Sticking letters in slots. No danger there. Or maybe he’d been informed about everything and was keeping an eye out for him.

If he avoided the main street through the gated community and alternated between the street closest to the wall and the wall itself… Maybe he could reach the exit. Then straight out. First to catch his breath and then to take care of his car.

He thought about Sandi again. It was already after one thirty. She had to be really worried by now. People disappeared every day in South Africa. Just like that. Rarely was this a voluntary decision. Most of them reappeared later—though typically not breathing.

However, before he could be in touch with her, he had to get out of here.

“Hey!” someone behind him yelled. Moses spun around and saw the white man with the club. He took off at once. “Stop!” he heard, but he had already slipped between two houses and was only a few meters away from the outer wall. Keep running. Away from the white guy.

This isn’t going to go well , Moses thought as he hurtled over a shrub. Someone would see him. Hopefully, they’d just call the cops and not shoot. He didn’t want to imagine that scenario.

The cops , he thought, leaping over a waist-high wall. As he cleared it, he caught one of his shoes on the topmost edge. He briefly struggled to keep his balance, then everything was all right. That wall had been tall. The cops , he thought again. Why shouldn’t they come to his rescue? He hadn’t done anything. Hadn’t even thought anything marginally criminal.