Staffrider Vol.6 No.2 1985 - DISA

one night in Meadowlands, another inPimville, another in Kliptown, anotherin — goddamn! I am becoming a regularhobo, he thought.H le hummed inaudibly asthe bus passed the Johannesburgzoo. He gazed wistfully at thehuge mansions.He swung onto the For Natives Onlytrolley bus at the corner of Fraser andDiagonal streets just as the bus wasleaving, paid his five cents and headedfor Parktown North. He hummedinaudibly as the bus passed theJohannesburg zoo. He gazed wistfullyat the huge mansions, with oversizedyards and carefully manicured lawns. Itwas like being transported from aderelict, barren Masakeng into a gardenof Eden. The contrast between Shantytownand Parktown turned his stomach.Approaching Tsidi's working place,he nimbly swung off the bus with anagility he was accustomed to, taking themomentum of the bus on his dirtytennis shoes. Soundlessly walking in theshadows, he crept towards Tsidi's 'dog'smeat'home, so-called because whenthe maddie went shopping, part of themeat she bought was allotted theservant. 'These fucking dogs live and eatbetter than we do, 'Vuyo thought.Stealthily he went to the backyardwhere the servants' quarters was located,hoping that the bloody dog would notbark. The massive mansion in front wasbuilt rococo-style, of rough-hewn granitebricks with creepers climbing up to thecupola-like roof. Vuyo thought this wasa lot of money spent in bad taste.Facing the street was a white-railedveranda with deck chairs where themasters had their sundowners.Surrounding the house was a hedge ofwell-trimmed rhododendrons.The servants' quarters comprised ablock of three brick rooms — one forthe maid, one for the cook, the thirdfor the gardener. Adjoining the maid'sroom was a lavatory next to a coalshed.Vuyo thought the set-up lookedsumptuous compared to Tandie's hoveland its raggedy companions.He tapped lightly on Tsidi's door.No answer. He tapped again, a littlelouder.'Who is it? Tsidi asked.'Vuyo,' he answered, thinking thatliving in Johannesburg was a pain inthe ass because one was alwayssuspicious of knocks at night: if theywere loud and peremptory, it was thepolice or the boss; if they were soft andtimid, it was a hustler or a poor relative.After what appeared to be a longpause, Vuyo was about to knock againwhen a baritone voice growledaway, we're asleep.'le tiptoed into the lavatory.It was too small, and spendingthe night on the commode wasvery uncomfortable.Vuyo sucked in his breath sharplyand cursed softly. He was thinking fast:The shit's up the creek for me. There'snowhere nearby where I can spend thenight. I'm bound to be picked up by theprowling 'flying sqaud' if I leave here.My pass-book isn't in order and I'llbe arrrested for not having worked forthe past year or so. The last bus into thecity has already left ... I don't havebus fare anyway. It's past 9 p.m. andthe curfew for blacks in the city ison . . . goddamn!He tiptoed into the lavatory. It wastoo small, and spending the night on thecommode was very uncomfortable, ashe discovered after he had tried it for awhile. He then explored the coal-shed.It was as black as some of the pondokkieshe had been in in Masakeng.Lying next to some bags of anthracitewere some empty sacks. He spread twoon the floor as if he was making up asick-bed in a hospital. He sat on them,knees hunched, arms folded, chin onchest, craving a cigarette, staring at theblackened wall, thinking about Tandie'swarm tender body, calling Tsidi aregular rubber-neck — bitch. It was hardfor him to believe that he was inParktown spending the night on sacksas if he was in Shantytown. 'Hit thesack, Jack,' he said to himself, resignedly,and tried to sleep.IllustrationsbyPercy SedumediAfter about an hour he heard a keyturn, a door open, the toilet door close.He quickly slipped out of the coalshed,stepped lightly into Tsidi's darkroom, and locked the door behindhim. Taking out his gonie he relaxed;he even grinned wryly when hediscovered in the dimness of the roomthat it was Tsidi who lay in bed. Hecould just discern a man's pair of pants,jacket and shirt on a chair; the man'sshoes were under it. He climbed fullyclothed, with his sneakers on, into thebed without disturbing her.,'That was quick,' mumbled Tsidi.She sounded very sleepy and poopedfrom screwing, Vuyo thought.'Mm,' Vuyo responded indistinctly,anonymously. A few minutes later thedoorknob turned. Then:'What the hell! Tsidi, open thefucken door!'Vuyo had the blade of his gonie onTsidi's neck as he hissed:'One squeak out of you and you area dead duck!' Loudly, he said in abaritone voice:'Go away, we're asleep.'36 STAFFRIDER, VOL. 6 NO. 2, 1985