Signed, Hopelessly in Love. Lauri Kubuitsile

Batho because it was built on an ancient burial ground. When I pushed them for the source of their information, they became cagey and aggressive, making me think something was up. It was then just a matter of interviewing the uncle, who didn’t know anything about any charms or the thokolosi at the school. It turned out the charms were nothing more than a chunk of eucalyptus wood and a piece of fur from Gopolang’s dog, tied up with a red piece of cotton. Business had been so good, she’d nearly shaved the poor dog bald.

      After the story came out in the paper, Gopolang and Mosetsana had to buy back all of the charms and they got beaten on the hand by Pigs at assembly. They vowed to get revenge and troubled me and any other Voice of the People staffers every chance they could get.

      Gopolang moved close to my face and grabbed a piece of my school jersey in her hand. “Stay out of my way, Amogelang. One day I’m going to teach you to have some respect.”

      Just then Nono came up. “Leave her alone, Gopolang.”

      “Stay out of things that don’t concern you, Moongirl.”

      I thought I heard Gopolang growl.

      “Amo’s my friend, so it does concern me. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll let her go.”

      Gopolang obviously knew what was good for her and dropped me to the ground. Nono is a bundle of muscles and enjoys every opportunity to flex them.

      Gopolang clicked her tongue at Nono. “Moongirl, you better watch your step! I don’t like people getting in my business. I’ll make you pay for those words!”

      “Ooooh … I’m so scared,” Nono said mockingly.

      Gopolang clicked in annoyance again, then she and Mosetsana turned and walked away.

      “What’d they want?” Nono asked.

      “Same old stuff,” I said, watching them. I got up and dusted the gravel off my scraped knee. I didn’t like the tone of Gopolang’s threat. She can be scary.

      “Listen, I gotta rush to art,” Nono said. “But I’ll see you after practice.”

      “Make sure you do – I have a problem.” I was hoping Nono might have a clue about how to deal with On the Way Out.

      I watched her run to the block at the end of the school and slowly made my way to my design and technology lesson. My mind was somewhere else so I didn’t notice John Gababonwe passing.

      “Howzit, Amo?”

      I looked up and said something like, “Googoo gat sa didio.”

      He smiled and nodded, so I assumed he was fluent in idiot and stumbled on my way.

      Chapter 5

      I sat down under a shade tree. From there I could see the athletics team out on the dusty red track. I was reading a novel I’d just checked out from the library so I didn’t hear Duncan sit down next to me.

      “So, another John Grisham … Can’t get something a bit heavier?”

      “Like what? Long Walk to Freedom or The Manifesto of a Cuban Hero – The Fidel Castro Story? I don’t think so. The Struggle’s over, Duncan. How about you move on?”

      Duncan is in Nono and my class – 2A. He also writes for the newspaper. He likes to hang out with us, even though in his eyes we were political lightweights. I thought he saw us more as a cause than anything else.

      Duncan looked out at the team on the track. “Nono’s looking good. Maybe she’ll win the nationals this year.”

      “Likely, she’s pretty serious, but first she needs to get through the regionals this weekend.”

      “Piece of cake. So anyway, I heard Lorato’s starting one of those agony aunt columns for the newspaper. Do you know about it?”

      I looked across to where Nono was running more than a track’s length ahead of all of the other girls. “Yeah, sure I heard about it.”

      “Well, I think it is ruining our reputation as a serious newspaper. It’s bad enough we need to put up with Tebby’s stuff – now this?”

      “I don’t know, Duncan. It’s a service. Some kids really have problems. They don’t have anyone to help them. They need guidance.”

      “And you think some fool with clichéd responses is going to help?”

      I was getting annoyed. Duncan didn’t understand.

      “You don’t know who’s doing it. Maybe it’s someone responsible who is taking the job very seriously. They might really help people.”

      “Maybe, but I doubt it. I think it’s a stupid idea.”

      Nono was out on the field. She’d long finished the race and was waiting patiently near the finish line for the rest of the girls. It looked like she could have run another 3 000 metres without any effort.

      After the team had done some cool-down exercises, Nono came to where Duncan and I were sitting. She plopped down on the ground and took a long drink from her bottle of water.

      “Hey, Duncan. What was up with The Mouse today?”

      The Mouse was Mr. Phuti, the art teacher. He was a very sensitive guy, who was known to cry with little provocation. “Let’s Make The Mouse Cry” was a well-known game at Puso Ka Batho.

      “I don’t know. I guess he wasn’t in the mood today.”

      “What happened?” I asked, since I wasn’t an art student.

      “He just sat there like a zombie or something, for the whole lesson. The only time he moved was to scratch himself,” Nono explained.

      “Maybe he’s possessed by Gopolang’s thokolosi,” Duncan said smiling. “At least he wasn’t crying like usual.”

      “I feel bad for him, actually. He’d be an okay teacher if it wasn’t for all his quirks. He used to be fine. I wonder what’s going on?” Nono said, then turned to me. “So, what’s up? You said you had something to talk to me about?”

      “Ah … it was nothing really.” I looked at Nono to let her know this was not the time.

      “Oh, I get it. It’s girl talk. What is it, Amo, you want to talk about John Gababonwe?” Duncan asked.

      How would Duncan know about my crush on John Gababonwe? I was shocked! My eyes flashed at Nono, but she shook her head. Duncan saw it.

      “No, no one told me. I have two eyes – I can see. I don’t know why you would waste time on someone like him anyway.” Duncan got up, collecting his book bag, heavy with the political tomes and newspapers he loved to study. “Go siame, girls. I’m outta here. Kamoso.”

      Once I was sure he was out of hearing range I turned to Nono. “Eish, do you think everyone can see I’m in love with John Gababonwe? I think I want to die!” I fell back on the ground.

      “No, I don’t think that. Duncan is your friend. He likely picked up clues. No one is paying any attention to you, Mrs. Gababonwe.”

      “Stop it, that’s not funny. I’ve got serious things to discuss.”

      “Okay. Whatzup?”

      “It’s this Aunt Lulu thing. I think I’m seriously out of my depth.” I dug in my bag for the Aunt Lulu letter and handed it to Nono.

      She read it with a very serious face.

      “Do you see?” I said. “I told you it would be important stuff. I can’t do this. I could really mess up someone’s life. What do I tell this person?”

      “I think it’s obvious – she must tell her mother. If her mother doesn’t listen, she must move on to another