Whisperers Read online

Whisperers

  By Khaleel Jooste

  Copyright Khaleel Jooste 2013

  This free e-book may be copied, distributed, reposted, reprinted and shared, provided it appears in its entirety without alteration, and the reader is not charged to access it.

  Foreword

  I seek protection in Allah from Satan the outcast and I start with the name of Allah, the Gracious, the Merciful.

  The events in this novel are just a glimpse into my imagination, of which my Lord is also the King.

  However, the book tries to fashion the circumstances of the then South-West Africa, now Namibia, and South Africa, just as with former President Nelson Mandela's release from Robben Island. Then of course, the current situation in and around Cape Town, South Africa.

  Under no circumstances am I trying to encourage the use of hard liquor or consumption of pork. It is indeed prohibited by my Lord. Nor any violent behaviour as illustrated in this book.

  As Allah wills.

  Ayat Al-Kursi

  Allah - there is no deity except Him, the Ever-Living, the Sustainer of [all] existence. Neither drowsiness overtakes Him nor sleep. To Him belongs whatever is in the heavens and whatever is on the earth. Who is it that can intercede with Him except by His permission? He knows what is [presently] before them and what will be after them, and they encompass not a thing of His knowledge except for what He wills. His Kursi extends over the heavens and the earth, and their preservation tires Him not. And He is the Most High, the Most Great. (Surah Al-Baqarah 2:255)

  For

  Mariah Carey Cannon, Britney Spears, Shakira, Oscar Pistorius & Justin Bieber

  May the Lord be with you. Salaam, Khaleel

  Sherwin

  Handsome devil.

  Oh, yeah.

  Sherwynne, I love you.

  Sherwynne, I do.

  Uhm.

  Uhm uhm.

  Bond.

  James Bond.

  *Wooooof *

  Ha-ha!

  Refill, for you, my daisy?

  No.

  Oh, no, man.

  What's that?!

  Yes.

  A pimple.

  Uhm.

  And always in the neck.

  Oh, these darn specks!

  Relax, brother.

  Nothing can spoil this face.

  Look.

  Uhm uhm uhm .

  You're on fi-ya.

  Hold the pictures, please.

  Ladies, ladies.

  Give a brother some room to breathe.

  Please.

  Ladies.

  Practice a little restraint.

  Please.

  Yeah, yeah.

  Stand back.

  Get the entire frame in.

  Just like that.

  Uhm.

  Uhm uhm uhm.

  Sherwynne, I love you.

  Sherwynne, I do.

  Pump those muscles.

  Uhm uhm.

  Flat chest.

  Ridiculous.

  Girls love muscles like these babies.

  Flex 'em more.

  More sessions with the concrete dumb bells and you're a-for-away.

  Turn around.

  That's it.

  On your toes.

  Flat.

  On your toes.

  Flex 'em.

  Yes.

  Look at those bulls.

  Iron!

  Oh, yeah!

  Listen, my brother.

  No worries tonight.

  They won't know what hit 'em.

  For sure!

  Enough.

  I must focus.

  Simoné.

  The Devil will catch you.

  Mommy told me so.

  Every day.

  i

  My name is Sherwin.

  Sherwin Esterhuizen.

  So Bond.

  James Bond.

  Can you be more boring.

  Sherwynne, I love you.

  Sherwynne, I do.

  How about, once upon a time…

  Spare us the clichés.

  Please.

  Spare us the drama too.

  People have enough drama of their own.

  They seek an adventure.

  With a hero.

  They wish for a world, unlike... the mess... around them.

  Where they can imagine the things around them do not exist.

  But there must be love.

  Sherwynne, I love you.

  Sherwynne, I do.

  Enough.

  Hmm.

  My name is Sherwin.

  Sherwin Esterhuizen.

  Like many people, I have a secret.

  In order to put into words is difficult.

  But I will try.

  Let me start at the beginning.

  Where my secret began.

  When my other life began.

  CRYPTIC.

  I like it.

  Sherwynne, I love you.

  Sherwynne, I do.

  You sound like a properly scratched record.

  And why sing all the words like that.

  I am practicing for my debut.

  I am going to be a star.

  Bright.

  They will call me the great.

  Compare me to Luciano.

  Tenor galore!

  You forget.

  You cannot sing.

  Well, duh!

  That is why I am practicing.

  Practice makes perfect.

  Tra-lala-lal-lal-la-la-la!

  We will have a problem if you carry on like that.

  I am trying to... listen... and you are strangling a cat.

  No man.

  Enough.

  Hmm.

  1991

  It was a few months after we first moved to Cape Town.

  I was in a school near home.

  Thank God for that.

  All praise be to God!

  Hmm.

  The bullies could not torment me very long.

  Or should I say, more than they already have.

  After school, I habitually went to the train tracks.

  There was a bridge near there, where I used to play.

  With everything that happened to me, I never lost my sense of adventure.

  You can say that again.

  I concur!

  Oh, Sherwynne, I love you.

  Sherwynne, I do.

  Will you stop.

  What.

  I am doing no-ting!

  You hear the range of my TING!

  As far as I can tell you are still breathing.

  You are mean.

  I'd rather rest my vocal cords.

  They need their rest.

  Praise the Lord!

  Hmm.

  The bridge was a way away from home, just outside the neighbourhood.

  Near the bridge, were a lot of pipes lying around.

  Cement pipes.

  Twenty, maybe more.

  So big that I could stand in it hunched.

  Some were longer than others.

  What exactly they were, I did not know.

  But it seemed to be like the tunnels under some roads and sometimes under buildings.

  "Today is the day."

  I was full of it.

  Sherwynne, I love you!

  Hands-four feet I was in the shortest.

  I wanted to see if I could crawl to the end - and not be scared.

  True.

  I thought you're... resting... your vocal cords.

  Or should they still continue to scorch with the cracklings.

  Don't pretend to be so innocent.

  You forget.

  We've been together for a long time.

  Your silent treatments last just a word or two.
/>
  Prove me wrong.

  Come.

  I'm waiting.

  My lips are sealed.

  One... two... three, four.

  See.

  You can't stop yourself.

  Can you.

  Are you... telling... this story.

  Enough.

  Hmm.

  The first one was easy.

  The second was a little longer and my heart started beating faster.

  In the middle, it was pitch black and you could not see around you.

  Only the end was clear and it looked like a circle of light where I looked from the dark.

  I was glad when I was out of there.

  Along the pipe was one that was just as long, but where it ended, one of the same length started and it made a very long pipe.

  It was now my big challenge.

  I wanted to show myself - and the bullies - that I could crawl through.

  From where I stood at the entrance, the end seemed small.

  You could just make out that there was light at the end of just black.

  Where the two pipes came together, there was a thin ray of sunlight.

  To crawl to the ray was my first goal.

  I took a deep breath and entered.

  First slowly, then faster.

  I wanted to reach the center as soon as possible.

  The darkness was worse than when I was only in the single long pipe.

  The black was like a heavy weight around me.

  Panicked, I quickly crawled further.

  "Ouch!"

  Something cut me.

  However, I kept crawling.

  The ray of light was near.

  First it was just a thin slice, but as I approached it, it grew.

  With my back against the edge, I turned my face so that it was in the sunlight.

  Still, it was dark, but the warmth against my face, made me feel better.

  Then I heard it.

  A voice.

  At first it sounded like it came from where I came in, but I was not sure.

  I heard it again.

  This time it was harder and almost right next to me.

  My heart started pounding.

  I heard footsteps in the gravel.

  It sounded like it was moving away from me, closer to the pipe's end.

  There was a man.

  No, two.

  I could only see them from the waist down.

  They were busy arguing.

  The darkness around me suddenly didn’t matter.

  All that was important was not to be seen.

  I moved away from the sunlight, in the direction from where I came in.

  In the middle of the pipe, I rested against the edge, my eyes still on the far point.

  The men's voices, I could still hear, but I could not hear what they were saying.

  The man on my right hand went on his haunches and looked straight at me.

  It felt as if he looked into my eyes.

  Then he looked up and said something to the other man, who still just stood there.

  He did not see me.

  The other man then hunched too.

  "Where are we going to hide it?" asked the one to the right.

  The sound was so clear; it was almost like he was sitting next to me.

  His face was hard.

  There was a deep cut over his left eye to the top of his cheek.

  Scarface.

  “Don’t know," the other replied.

  I could not see his face clearly.

  He had a tattoo on his right arm.

  The numbers 28.

  "We can’t take it home. It's too dangerous," said Scarface.

  "Well, what do you suggest?"

  "We leave it here and come fetch it later. When it’s dark. The cops are blind at night."

  "Never!" shouted 28. "I don’t trust you."

  He arose and went where I could no longer see him.

  Scarface watched him.

  Shook his head and looked at me.

  Again, it felt as if he was watching me.

  I was scared.

  If the bullies could see me now.

  "There is no other way," pleaded Scarface.

  "We risk everything if we take it home."

  "Don’t talk sh!t with me!”

  Again he hunched next to Scarface.

  "You want it all for yourself. Over my dead body!"

  Scarface shook his head and began to laugh again.

  "Why are you so nervous cousin? Did I ever give you reason not to trust me?"

  His voice was softer, but still harsh.

  "No, you haven’t. But..."

  "No buts!"

  He took something from his back pocket.

  I could not see what it was.

  It was black.

  "Trust me." He gave the black thing to 28.

  28 just looked at him for a while.

  Then he took it from him.

  It was a black leather pouch with strings.

  He started throwing the pouch from hand to hand.

  He then looked intently into Scarface's eyes and said, "I want no surprises. If we leave it here, then we leave together and stay together till we come back. Do you understand me?"

  "What? Are we Siamese twins now?"

  Scarface laughed again.

  "I don’t want you out of my sight!!”

  "Okay, okay. Relax. We can hold hands and weave each other’s hair. How does that sound?"

  I wanted to laugh.

  "Keep your f@cking mouth shut! You’re looking for a beating!"

  He tried to grab Scarface around the neck, but just got hold of his shirt.

  "Relax, brother." He tried to push 28’s hand away. "You know I’m just kidding."

  "Save your lame @ss jokes for the missis," as he pushed Scarface with his hand.

  Scarface lost his balance slightly, but was soon right.

  Again, he looked intently in my direction.

  "We leave it in the tunnel. Nobody will know there’s something in here."

  You're right, I thought to myself.

  Not even you.

  "Okay. But we throw it into the darkness. We can get it later with a torch."

  "Right. Give it to me."

  Reluctantly 28 handed the pouch to him.

  Scarface pulled the strings tighter and threw the bag in my direction.

  When he was satisfied, he stood up and said, "Come, girl, let me get that weave going." Without even waiting for an answer, he started walking.

  "Bloody @rsehole," said 28, still on his haunches.

  He looked intently in my direction.

  Again, the fear had me.

  Do not see me.

  He did not.

  With one swift movement, he said "Wait," and left.

  I just sat there quietly for a while.

  I waited till I could no longer hear them.

  Then it hit me again.

  The darkness.

  I had to get out.

  I moved back to where I came in.

  Then I stopped.

  What was it that the Siamese twins hid in the pipe?

  The curious one in me was bigger than my fear of the dark - and the twins.

  I turned around and went further in.

  Soon I was at the ray of light and soon past it.

  The pouch could not be too far.

  I felt slowly with my hands while moving forward.

  I could see nothing, but I was almost in the middle of the second pipe.

  I felt it.

  Only the strings at first.

  Then.

  Jackpot!

  Quickly I was out of the pipe.

  I breathed deeply.

  There is nothing better than fresh air after being confined in a small space.

  However, I soon ran.

  I had to get away.

  If the twins saw me, I would be minced meat.

  I put the leather pouch in my scho
ol bag.

  Quickly I was at home.

  ***

  "Where have you been all this time?"

  That was my mother.

  "And what happened to you? What blood is that?"

  Blood?

  I looked at my hands and legs.

  Oh yes.

  In the pipe.

  My left knee.

  Dried blood was all along my left shin.

  "It's nothing." I tried to pass her.

  “After school I was at the park and fell off the swing."

  "I’ve told you many times before not to swing so high. Let me see."

  "I'm okay. It’s not painful."

  She grabbed me by my arm and elevated my leg.

  "It does not look too bad. I will have to put antiseptic ointment on. Go wash it off."

  She left me.

  ***

  Mom gently nursed my leg.

  The ointment burned my cut, but I said nothing.

  Boys don’t cry.

  I focused on something else.

  The black leather pouch.

  What was in it?

  Why did 28 not want to leave it with Scarface?

  Worse, what would they do to me if they knew I took it?

  "Were you with your friends?"

  The question took me by surprise.

  "Mommy?"

  "At the park. Were you with your friends?"

  "Yes," I said unsure.

  The second lie I told that day.

  "I'm glad," she smiled, "I told you you'll make new friends soon."

  Yes, Mommy did say that.

  Just a pity it was not so.

  I still had no one that I would call a friend.

  I wondered if I ever would.

  ii

  2009

  The house was still the same.

  Full.

  Moldy smell.

  We did not have a television anymore.

  The stove was still the old black Defy my mother bought at an auction years ago.

  It was a lot rustier, but it still did its job.

  The carpet in the kitchen and living room were replaced with the worst looking tiles, dirty-white.

  It reminded me of a hospital.

  Aunty Anne now stayed in a Wendy house in the backyard.

  This meant I now had my own room.

  I have not had a chance to unpack all my stuff yet.

  With the many boxes, the room looked full.

  Besides the boxes, there was a single bed with a worn mattress, a small nightstand, and on top of it was my old box radio that my mom bought me when I was still in primary school.

  It was one of those radios that you yourself had to put together.

  You got a cardboard box and electronic components.