Piranha. Rudie van Rensburg

Then he grinned and waved at the couch.

      ‘We need to talk.’

      Kwaai groaned as he sat down on the couch. Jackal sat down next to him.

      ‘Special project,’ Kwaai said, placing a puffy hand heavily on Jackal’s shoulder. He snorted a ball of slime down his throat and said: ‘Operation Kidnap.’

      Jackal did not like the sound of this thing.

      Dada looked over the newspaper. ‘Kidnap? That’s not our core business. I tell you: stick with the core business and the money angels smile.’

      ‘Money,’ Kwaai said, pausing dramatically, ‘is our core business. And here’s an opportunity to make more of it.’

      He leaned forward with some effort to reach for a box on the coffee table. He opened the lid and tipped the box so Jackal could check inside. It was packed with R200 notes.

      ‘Fifty K, my bru. Cash. Delivered via courier early this morning. A little deposit to do a recce and finalise arrangements. Once the actual job is done, our man sends another one hundred K our way.’

      He tapped Jackal’s chest with a forefinger. ‘And you, bru, are in charge of this operation.’

      Jackal’s ears rang as though he’d been slapped. He was a low-risk kinda brother. This wasn’t his vibe. ‘Sounds to me like a jobbie for one of our guns.’

      Kwaai laughed so hard his gums showed. ‘You chicken or what?’

      ‘No, man,’ Jackal said quickly. ‘But it sounds like there’s some violence involved. I’m a pacifist, mos, you know.’

      ‘Pacifist!’ Dada piled on. ‘Did you swallow a fucken dictionary this morning?’ He laughed as though Jackal had told a joke.

      Kwaai smiled at his father. ‘That’s exactly why Jackal must do this job. We need intelligence on the job. The guns haven’t got the brains.’

      He patted Jackal’s shoulder with his heavy hand. ‘Chill, brother. It’s a chick you have to kidnap.’

      * * *

      Theodore couldn’t take his eyes off the speaker. The chairperson of the business chamber had introduced her as Natasha van der Merwe of IESA. Theodore was there on behalf of African Curio to hand over a donation of R50 000.

      When he’d heard that IESA’s representative was going to be the guest speaker, he knew it was an opportunity that could be milked to the max for good publicity. Everyone who had a stake in conservation, all the most important businessmen from the district and the media usually attended the quarterly meeting.

      But his thoughts were not on the donation or the publicity now. He was enchanted by Natasha van der Merwe, the vision at the podium.

      She was young, not even thirty, and yet she held the mainly male audience in the palm of her hand. She spoke with conviction, rattled off strings of statistics without referring to notes and answered questions from the audience like an experienced politician. People were going to be falling over themselves to offer IESA money, Theodore thought, when she ended her address with a frank call for donations in order for IESA to keep fighting the good fight.

      She received a standing ovation.

      The chairperson hurried towards her and took the microphone. ‘This outstanding organisation that does so much to preserve the wildlife of our country needs us. Let us, the business community of Musina, show them where our hearts lie,’ he urged the audience.

      Theodore walked towards them, but two other people reached the front first. Another four fell in behind him.

      ‘Look at that,’ the chairperson practically shouted as the first cheque was handed over to roaring applause, ‘that’s the businesspeople of Limpopo I know!’

      Natasha van der Merwe shook hands with the man who’d made the donation.

      ‘Five thousand rand from Mr Tol Brummer of Safari Tours!’ the chairperson announced. ‘Seven thousand from Mr Kotie Kriel of Impala Lodges!’ There was a wave of laughter as the chubby Kotie leaned over to kiss Natasha’s hand.

      Theodore stepped up. He gave his cheque to the chairperson and then turned to Natasha. Suddenly the loud cheering when the chairperson read out the amount on his cheque became a background hum. He took her hand in his. No rings on her fingers. She watched him with her big, dark eyes and his heart fluttered a little.

      ‘The pleasure is mine,’ he said, when she thanked him with a lovely smile.

      A newspaper photographer stopped him as he was about to step away. ‘Can I get a photograph of the two of you?’

      Theodore stood next to her.

      ‘A bit closer, please,’ the photographer instructed.

      Theodore felt her arm lightly touch his. He could smell her perfume. He wished the photographer would take longer. He walked back to his seat with the overwhelming need to get to know Natasha van der Merwe better.

      Suddenly Carina Vosloo stood before him. He hadn’t noticed her before. She put out her arms to him: ‘What a wonderful gesture!’ she shrieked.

      She came towards him and threw her arms around his neck. Her kiss was wet and long. A few men wolf-whistled.

      * * *

      My life suddenly changed dramatically. My dream of graduating was a thing of the past. My marks weren’t good enough to apply for a bursary.

      Smiley found a voluptuous bottle blonde to rent my room and within a week I was homeless. He allowed me to sleep on the couch in the living room for a while. ‘Not more than a few weeks, though.’

      Wild parties the next two nights only allowed me access to my bed on the couch after three in the morning. I knew these weren’t going to be exceptions. I packed my things and, without saying goodbye to Smiley, I headed into the streets of Stellenbosch to see what I could find. I slept on a bench at the station for two nights until I found a room to rent in the backyard of a house in the poorest part of town.

      I was bitter about how I’d been evicted, but I didn’t dwell on it for too long. Our friendship had been over for a while.

      I didn’t blame Smiley for cutting me off financially. His father’s death was a knuckle sandwich from the universe and I accepted it as such.