The Street Detectives, page 2
Thabo looked at Miss Collette in total surprise. Fancy her liking soccer. He would never have guessed. A sudden thought struck him.
“I’ve got two tickets … best seats … for next Saturday afternoon … Would you like to come with me?” he said awkwardly.
“I’d like that better than anything in the world,” Miss Collette declared happily. “Thanks!”
“Then it’s settled!” Thabo was pleased. “We’ll go and enjoy the performance and grab something to eat afterwards.”
“Great!” Miss Collette felt like hugging him but thought better of it as Tembile appeared at the kitchen door.
“Any bread left over?” he asked hopefully.
“In the bread bin,” laughed Miss Collette. “But go and eat it outside so that Mrs Misengana won’t find any evidence in the morning!”
Post reading
1.
How well does Mrs Misengana know the boys?
2.
Suggest possible reasons why she keeps a careful eye on the food in the kitchen.
3.
Miss Collette says, “Oh! Did you watch it too?” What does Thabo think she means?
4.
Do you think that Thabo has asked Miss Collette to go out with him before? Explain.
5.
Tembile comes looking for bread. Do you think he has not been fed today? Explain your answer.
— Chapter 4 —
Pre-reading
1.
Gangsters are often involved in violent crimes. Can you think of some reasons for this?
During reading
2.
Notice the details that contribute to a scary atmosphere in this chapter. How is the suspense achieved?
The small cellar stank of unwashed bodies, urine and excrement. High up on one wall, where a brick had been removed, a lighted stub of candle threw a faint glow onto the scene below.
There was no window and a short flight of concrete steps led up to a strong wooden door. An old coal stove was burning in one corner and a rickety chair and an old farmhouse table were the only furniture in the room.
Mlibo looked around apprehensively. The afternoon had been full of surprises. Louis had read the address on the note for him and the delivery had gone smoothly.
Then Lynch, Blade and Terro had picked him up, blindfolded him, bundled him into the back of a van and brought him to this place! Apart from telling him to shut up, no one had spoken to Mlibo. He was scared. Very scared!
Lynch grabbed the chair and sat in it with his feet up on the edge of the table. His finger traced the scar that disfigured his dark weather-beaten cheek. He had won it in a fight to death with the previous gang leader.
He tried to give the impression that he was totally relaxed, but Mlibo could see that Lynch was on edge.
“What’s up?” Mlibo asked cautiously.
“Boss wants to meet you,” Lynch muttered.
Mlibo swallowed hard. Was that a good sign or had they found out that he could not read and had asked Louis du Toit to help him with the addresses? Were they going to punish him?
Mlibo broke out in a cold sweat. He had heard terrible tales of boys who had had their tongues slashed and their ears cut off or been whipped to death for splitting on gangsters.
Blade casually leant the chair against the wall and proceeded to sharpen his already razor-sharp knife on a brick. The scratching noise was the only sound in the cellar. His small, black eyes shifted constantly as if always on the alert for trouble. No one spoke.
Terro took some electric flex out of his pocket and twisted it nervously to and fro in his fingers. His skin was lighter than the others. Two small gold hoops pierced his bottom lip and another one pierced his left eyebrow. He spoke with a lisp, revealing the absence of four front teeth and a gold stud in the centre of his tongue.
Mlibo wished he could run away.
Terro’s fingers began to make loops in the flex and his hands shook slightly as he drew each knot tight. Blade continued sharpening his knife. The seconds ticked away slowly.
Suddenly there was the sound of footsteps approaching the cellar door. Lynch quickly pulled his feet off the table, leapt up and stood stiffly to attention.
The door opened to reveal a small, slim figure dressed in a black shirt and black trousers. The person moved rapidly down the steps and approached them.
Mlibo gasped. A beautiful young woman! The black hair drawn tightly back from her face revealed perfect features, but her dark brown eyes were hard and calculating as she disapprovingly looked Mlibo up and down.
“We brought him like you said, Queen,” Lynch declared eagerly.
Mlibo’s mouth was dry. What was going to happen?
“Get water and a spoon,” Queen demanded.
Blade ran up the stairs. Seconds later he reappeared with a cracked mug and an old bent spoon. He placed them carefully on the table in front of her. Without thanking him, Queen took a small phial from her pocket, unscrewed it and tipped some white powder into the water in the mug. She picked up the spoon and stirred until the powder was dissolved. Queen lifted the mug and offered it to Mlibo.
“Drink!” she ordered curtly.
Mlibo gazed in panic at the woman. Was it poison? Were they going to kill him? Instinctively he knew that he should not drink it. Terrified, he backed away from her.
“Hold him down!” Queen hissed.
Blade grabbed Mlibo by the arms and dragged him towards the table. The boy tried to get away but Lynch caught a firm hold of his legs and the two men lifted him onto the table.
“Yaaaaaaaaaah!” Mlibo screamed in terror.
Terro took hold of the boy’s head and yanked it backwards so that his mouth fell wide open. Queen moved swiftly forward, held Mlibo’s lips open in a vice-like grip and tipped the white liquid down his throat.
Mlibo choked, spat and tried not to swallow, but it was no good. His throat constricted involuntarily and the mixture trickled down his throat. He had no choice; he had to swallow.
Queen moved away and the men let go of the boy.
Mlibo rolled off the table and backed away to cower in a corner. He held his stomach tightly. What had he drunk? He tried to spit it out. He stuck his finger down his throat in an attempt to make himself vomit.
It did not work. Miserably, Mlibo slumped back against the wall and prepared himself for the worst. He was going to die!
The gang ignored him. Blade and Terro gathered eagerly near Queen who gave them some tiny white plastic bags. She gave Lynch a wad of money which he stuffed quickly into his trousers pocket.
Suddenly Mlibo knew what it was all about. Drugs! This woman was a drug dealer! How stupid he had been not to guess what was in those parcels!
Thabo had warned him not to get involved with the gangs. Mlibo’s head began to spin and psychedelic flashes whirled in front of his eyes. The floor lurched upwards to meet him and when the boy looked at Lynch, bright rainbows appeared over his head and the room danced to a thousand tunes.
Mlibo clutched the wall, dragged himself to his feet and stood swaying uncertainly as the room spun violently. Wherever he looked, he saw vivid changing patterns and intense colours.
“He’s ready,” Queen declared coldly. “Brand him!”
Mlibo teetered drunkenly. Blade and Terro moved forwards and each grabbed an arm to hold him still.
Lynch went to the fire, eased out a red-hot rod of metal and walked towards the boy.
The last thing Mlibo remembered was the sound of his own long howl of agony as the blistering hot metal seared the mark of the gang forever onto his upper arm.
Blade and Terro suddenly released their grip.
Mlibo staggered and fell flat onto his face on the bare concrete floor.
“Come,” ordered Queen. She headed towards the stairs. “He’ll be out cold for the rest of the night.”
Without a backwards glance Lynch, Blade and Terro followed Queen out of the cellar.
Post reading
1.
Describe Mlibo’s feelings when he is brought into the cellar. Why does he feel this way?
2.
Nicknames are given to people for different reasons. Suggest some likely reasons for the names “Lynch”, “Blade”, “Terro” and “Queen”.
3.
What do Lynch and Terro’s actions contribute towards the atmosphere of suspense?
4.
What does Mlibo find amazing about the boss?
5.
At first, Mlibo thinks he has been poisoned. What, in fact, has happened to him?
— Chapter 5 —
Pre-reading
1.
Think of the thousands of people in South Africa who make a living out of picking up scrap and litter. They work hard to earn a mere pittance.
During reading
2.
Notice how the writer fills us in about different strands of the story in the same chapter. Humour and suspense are balanced in this way.
“Shall I take this load to Louis?” Vuyo was helping Tembile and Victor fill an old, rusty trolley with cardboard boxes.
“Okay,” Victor agreed. “Tem and I’ll get that lot over there.”
Vuyo set off cheerfully, but it was hard work. The cardboard was heavy and the wheels of the rickety trolley did not want to go in the same direction that he was pushing.
“Here, I’ll help you,” Sizwe offered.
Tembile and Victor grabbed another trolley and rushed over to the fish shop where clouds of flies buzzed over the pile of rubbish in the side alley.
“Pfu! These stink!” complained Victor. “Shall we leave them?”
Tembile examined the cardboard and thought of the extra chips he would be able to buy with the proceeds.
“Hold your breath,” he suggested. “It won’t take long to sort it.”
Vuyo and Sizwe pushed the trolley to the building in the street where Louis du Toit had his junk shop. The street kids brought everything that they found to him – paper, wire, grills, car hubs, saucepans, broken toys, buckets. Louis took everything. Especially wire! And he knew everyone.
“Seen Mlibo around?” asked Sizwe as the old man checked the weight of the cardboard.
“Yeah,” Louis nodded. “He’s been in a couple of times this week to ask me to read addresses on bits of paper for him.”
“Where’s he hanging out?” enquired Vuyo. “He hasn’t been to the shelter lately.”
“You keep clear of him!” Louis turned angrily on Vuyo. “He’s a bad one. He’s in with that gang, The Devils. Drugs and that.”
Tembile and Victor joined them as Louis paid Vuyo twenty rand for the cardboard.
“Mlibo’s in big trouble,” Sizwe announced.
“Serves him right.” Victor shrugged. “He’s been told time and again not to get mixed up with gangs.”
“We should warn Thabo,” Tembile suggested.
“You can tell him if you want to,” Victor said. “I don’t care!”
In the shelter’s kitchen Mrs Misengana and her assistant Nombile were busily peeling potatoes to go into her famous Malay curry.
“Where’s Miss Collette?” asked Nombile suddenly.
“Gone shopping for something smart to wear on Saturday. She’s going to the Baxter Theatre.” Mrs Misengana winked. “Thabo’s taking her to a symphony concert.”
“Thabo interested in classical music?!” exclaimed Nombile. “I can’t believe it!”
“It just goes to show,” nodded Mrs Misengana, “you never can tell!”
Miss Collette parked her car and made her way to the shop that had advertised a sale in the newspaper. Cheerfully, she went to the dress department and began her search for a new outfit. She wanted to look her very best for Thabo. She always wore jeans and a T-shirt at the shelter. He had never seen her dressed up before.
She smiled to herself. How wonderful that they had an interest in common, apart from the boys!
“Can I help you?” a young assistant enquired.
“Yes. Thank you. I’m going to a concert at the Baxter Theatre and …”
“I have the very thing for you,” the girl said eagerly. “This suit. An Yvette de Paris! An absolute bargain!”
Miss Collette looked at the jacket’s plunging neckline and the short skirt and shook her head.
“Not quite me …” she muttered indecisively. “But it’s a very good price …”
“Try it on,” urged the sales assistant. “It’ll look divine on you. I’m sure you’ll fall in love with it!”
Post reading
1.
How much does Louis pay the boys?
2.
What advice does Louis give them?
3.
What do you learn about Victor and Tembile from the way they react to Louis’ advice?
4.
We know that Miss Collette has misunderstood Thabo’s invitation. Describe some of the amusing results of this misunderstanding so far.
5.
What kind of outfit do you think Miss Collette should choose?
6.
Try playing the following game. Whisper a short message (between 12 and 15 words) to the person sitting next to you. He or she must pass the message on to someone nearby and so on. The tenth person must say the message aloud. What is the result and what does this exercise show?
— Chapter 6 —
Pre-reading
1.
Drug addicts crave drugs more and more. They become addicted and cannot live without their “fix”. What do you think is the worst thing about being a drug addict?
During reading
2.
Notice how Mlibo is changing.
Tembile lounged alone at the kerbside in the car park and ate his hot chips. His friends had gone off with Thabo but he had decided to stay and watch that other street kids did not take over their patch. This car park was a prime earning spot and he didn’t want other street kids to take it.
Having finished his chips, Tembile wandered to the far end of the car park and looked down into the almost dry canal bed. Memories of the time that he had lived in the hole in the wall with Sizwe, Victor and Vuyo came flooding back to him.
He glanced quickly back around the car park. There were no other street kids in sight. It was just before lunch and nothing was moving. He would go and take a quick look at the hole, just for old times’ sake!
Tembile eased himself over the wall and jumped down to the level of the canal. Quickly, he ran to the jagged crack in the concrete wall. Like so many times before, he found the handhold, placed his foot in the shallow crack and pulled himself up.
He reached into the crack, shoved the sheet of cardboard to one side and heaved himself into the hole. It was a tight squeeze and Tembile realised how much he had grown since he had left here to go and live at Thabo’s shelter.
It was darker inside than he remembered. Automatically, his hand reached for the stub of candle and the box of matches that they had always kept on a small ledge by the entrance. He struck a match and lit the candle.
To think that this tiny hole had been a home for the four of them. It had seemed so cosy then.
Tembile was about to douse the candle and leave when he saw something lying near the entrance. He picked it up and examined it curiously. It was a carefully wrapped parcel, but there was no address on it. It could be worth some money! He stuffed the parcel inside his shirt, which he tucked into his trousers.
The boy snuffed out the candle and placed it back on the ledge. He scrambled backwards out of the hole, pulled the cardboard across the entrance and leapt down to the level of the canal. Then he jogged along the canal and climbed back up to the car park.
Mlibo’s hands trembled violently as he hurried up the road to the flower vendor’s corner. The “D” mark on his upper arm where the gang had branded him was inflamed and it throbbed painfully. He felt cold and sick, and his body ached for more of that white stuff Queen had given him. He would get some more after the next delivery, Queen had said.
The boy stood at the corner beneath the lamppost and waited. Come on! He was becoming desperate. The flower vendor checked around that no one was watching. Come on!
She slowly got to her feet, ambled over to him and pressed a note into his hand. Mlibo’s heart sank. Another delay! He would have to ask Louis du Toit again.
Feverishly, Mlibo made his way to the junk shop.
“Oh, it’s you again.” Louis did not sound welcoming.
“Read me the address.” Mlibo’s voice trembled.
“No! Not before you tell me what this is all about.”
“Later. I’ll tell you later,” the boy begged. “I got to go, quick! Please!”
Louis could not help feeling sorry for the boy.
“Lemon Street,” he read, “number twelve.”
“Thanks.” Mlibo snatched the note and hurried back towards the car park. Now he had to fetch the parcel so that he could take it to that address.
His head was spinning and his legs were giving way beneath him. He was feeling very ill. He had to get his fix soon!
Louis gazed pityingly after him.
“Another stupid idiot,” he remarked, turning round and walking to his phone. It was time to let Thabo know about this.
Mlibo headed for the canal at the far end of the car park. He was in such a state that he did not see Tembile sitting at the kerb as he hurried by. And Tembile, engrossed in another packet of hot chips, did not see him either.
Queen, very elegant in white trousers and a flowered top, was sitting in a comfortable armchair in the lounge of Spider’s yacht moored far out in Table Bay. Her dark hair hung loose, framing her face and giving her an air of delicate beauty. Spider looked at her appreciatively. She had class – and brains!
