Chapter Text
“And so ‘x’ is…”
Rasheed spoke through a pencil, the thing caught in a tight grip between his teeth. He sat with both legs up on the bench, notebook open on his lap while to his left — between us — sat his open textbook, a string of math problems running down the pages. Rasheed’s brow furrowed and relaxed as he worked through the problem, black pen sliding at an angle between blue lines.
A sudden breath left me and I looked away, leaning back and staring at a sky hidden by a massive, grey cloud – a scene that felt apt as it mirrored the heavy mass that had settled in my stomach.
In my periphery Rasheed worked, with dark brown skin and black, curly hair partially hidden beneath a topi. A gentle breeze moved between us and I could smell him, a scent which filled me with dread when it otherwise should have had me elated.
“Hey,” Rasheed said, his voice sending a low thrum running through me. I turned to see a narrow face with sharp, angular features tinted worry gazing into me. “What’s up?”
I swallowed and shook my head, suddenly overrun with too many feelings, all at odds with one another. My heart did a jig in my chest, forcing me to take a second to catch my breath, while my stomach continued to go as low as it could inside my body.
“Nervous, I guess,” I muttered, putting my notebook to one side.
“But this is your subject,” he said.
“You say that about every subject,” I said.
Rasheed continued as if he hadn’t heard me. “You’ve got this in the bag.”
I shrugged, wearing a frown as the picture in my head continued to elaborate, all painted with a brush of discontent.
“Talk to me,” said Rasheed, slapping my arm.
A sigh left me. “Not just about the exam,” I admitted, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath — the air smelled of Rasheed and the promise of rain. “The future, I guess. Last exam and then we wait. All going well, we’re off to university. Into the future,” I said, trying to push cheer into my voice.
Rasheed snorted and smacked me lightly with his notebook. I opened my eyes and turned to him, feeling a lump in my throat at his crooked smile.
“You say that like things aren’t already set,” he said, his volume increasing with cheer.
A courtyard stretched out in front of us, tarred over but with trees placed strategically to offer shade, immediately across was the tuck shop — closed with most students now on holiday — and a walkway that mirrored our own, with eaves that protruded out, seats under them, all leading right to the assembly hall, where double doors provided entry into the school building. There weren’t many, but there were people there, books between them, and they turned our way as Rasheed’s voice crossed the courtyard.
Rasheed ignored them, letting his feet drop and rise to a stand. “Early acceptance, baby! Half the stress is already gone. All we have to do now is pass.”
“I mean,” I said, keenly aware of how many people were looking at us, “we could still fail. We don’t know how we did.”
Rasheed waved it off. “No way that could happen,” he said. He took his notebook, opened it to the problem he’d been dealing with and handed it over. “Check over my work?”
I took the book and glanced over it. The problem was a simple one and Rasheed had tackled it the long way instead of taking the shortcuts I’d tried to teach him, but that was how he usually did things and the answer, as usual, was correct.
“Looks alright,” I said.
Rasheed grinned as if he’d just won something.
“See,” he said, surging forward and grabbing my shoulders. Rasheed began to shake me and I let him, a smile slipping onto my expression. “See. You didn’t even have to think about that. Just superpower scan and you worked it all out in your head—”
“I didn’t scan, I looked at the path you took,” I said, speaking over him. “It’s easier than working through the problem myself.”
“You got this in the bag,” he said, speaking over me and shaking me with more force. “Say it with me, Jabu. I’ve got this in the bag.”
I didn’t say anything and he shifted from shaking to pulling me to my feet. Rasheed was short and scrawny, to the point that he looked like the kids in the lower years than the rest of us matrics, and I was both tall and hefty. If I’d wanted, I could have resisted and won, but then Rasheed would have found another way of being a nuisance.
With my help he pulled me to my feet, shaking me with more force.
“Come on! Scream it to the heavens! Let your god hear you! I’ve got this in the bag!”
I didn’t say anything, laughing as I felt the heavy weight of others’ eyes on us. It was easier to do that when he was around.
For most, the school year had already ended, and left on the school premises were the boarders who hadn’t gone home yet, and the matric students who’d chosen to come to school early so they could get some last-minute studying. It meant that there were two reactions to our commotion: mild amusement from kids who were out of uniform, enjoying their freedom, and irritation from those who were stressed about the coming exam.
“Okay, okay,” I said through a laugh. “I’ve got this in the bag.”
“Shout it!” he said.
Still laughing I shook my head, pulling out of the hold. “We both know that’s not going to happen,” I told him.
Rasheed shrugged. “It was worth a try. But really, man, you’ve got this in the bag. I mean fuck, I don’t think I’d be this confident if you weren’t my best bud.”
I smiled, wanting to give him an elbow check and stopping myself. The tempest of emotions returned at full force, but where there had been dread running over everything, now it was frustration. It was so easy for Rasheed to show physical affection. I knew he wouldn’t mind if I reciprocated, but I still couldn’t bring myself to.
“Makes me worried about how I’m going to deal with university,” Rasheed continued, a question in his eyes that made me look away. “I really wish you were coming to KZN with me, like we planned. It's just a bummer you didn’t get in.”
The weight in my stomach reappeared. “Yeah,” I said, my head going down.
“Don’t get all down,” he said quickly. “It’s not the end of the world. You can still apply again after you pass—” my lips pressed together “—and even if it doesn’t work out we have to keep in contact, right? Five years of being friends, that can’t end in nothing.”
But that’s what’s going to happen, isn’t it, I thought, the mass in my stomach getting heavier.
The same promises had been made with friends in primary school. Seven years we’d been together, but because we stayed too far apart, regularly meeting up hadn’t been feasible. One year had passed and then another, text conversations had been fervent at first, but that had started to run dry.
Until it had stopped.
All of those friends still lived in the city, but Rasheed would be moving to another province.
This is the last time we’ll ever really be friends, a thought that filled me with dread and a hint of relief, something that felt treacherous.
“Fuck,” Rasheed whispered, pulling me from my thoughts. I followed his gaze and a new feeling joined the flurry, a yawing pit that sucked everything in and left emptiness in its wake.
They had been sitting on a bench over, the three of them, and now they walked towards us. Charlene, short with a petite frame, with a long face and thin lips, dark brown eyes that seemed almost black — now shinning as they stuck on Rasheed; to her left and right were Natalie and Sue, all three in their uniforms, and around their necks were gold necklaces with a cross as the centrepiece.
“Let’s maybe take a break,” I said, already knowing where this was going to go. “Go for a walk until we have to write?”
Rasheed, his smile gone and anger in his eyes, nodded stiffly. We began to pack up, but it wasn’t fast enough and the three reached us.
Charlene cleared her throat. Rasheed and I ignored her.
“Excuse me,” Charlene said, her voice high. “But…I heard something and I was wondering if I’d heard you right. You made a mistake, I think, and I wanted to take the moment to teach.”
“Can we not, Charlene?” I said, my voice almost a whisper and my heart beating faster. “It’s the last day of school.”
“That’s why it’s so important,” she said. “I don’t know if Rasheed will have this influence after he leaves. I’m offering the chance to save his soul, for the one and true God to—”
“Let’s go,” Rasheed said, throwing his bag over his shoulder.
I followed.
To our right lay the assembly hall, a two-storey building that split our school in half, and to our right was the sports field. Going left would have meant getting closer to Charlene and her friends, and the chance that they might follow, but going left offered more freedom.
We went left. Rasheed in a huff, walking with great speed, but I didn’t have trouble keeping up when I had a longer stride.
“Don’t let her get to you,” I said.
“Pisses me off,” he muttered, angry and tired all at once. “If there’s one thing I won’t miss about Hillmont High it’s that. It’s them. If it weren’t for you, Sinazo and Mr Owens I would have transferred out of this school years ago. Fucking—”
“Hey,” I said, taking his shoulder and stopping him — through shirt and jersey I could feel the knotted tension in his shoulders. My throat went dry but I shoved the feelings aside. “Don’t let her get in your head. Just ignore her and the shit she says, okay?”
When Rasheed said nothing I gave him a short shake and asked the question again. He smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, even so he gave me a nod.
“There’s Sinazo,” I said. “Charlene and them are afraid of her. Wanna go sit with her?”
“Better than the alternative,” Rasheed muttered with a shrug. “Even if she doesn’t like me.”
“I think you’re overstating things,” I said.
“Jabu—buddy—bro, when you’re absent the two of us don’t even hang out. I doubt she’d know who I am if it weren’t for you. Which — and don’t be offended—”
“He says as he prepares himself to say something offensive,” I muttered.
“—makes no sense at all because if there’s anyone between the two of us who’d be popular it’d totally be me,” he said.
“Maybe that’s why she doesn’t like you,” I joked. “Your ego.”
“I thought you said I was overstating things,” he said, offended, the usual lightness returning to his voice.
“Yeah, emphasis on over,” I returned. “You’re stating it just fine — no offence.”
He slapped my arm and when I laughed he threw one hand over my shoulder.
The greatest of sights in Hillmont High was the view offered by the sports field. A great hill rose to form the suburb of Crawford and at its highest point sat the school, looking onto a city that sloped down, laying bare the rest of the metro before its shores met the ocean. Usually it was a breath-taking sight, with blue skies and waters that shone as they reflected the sun, but today there was only grey, from sky to sea, making it hard to discern where one ended and the other began.
Sinazo sat on the giant steps of concrete that served as the bleachers, looking onto a pitch that served as the soccer, rugby and athletics grounds. She’d been studying at some point, but now her books had been put aside and her focus was on the horizon; shorter than me but taller than Rasheed, Sinazo cut an imposing figure. She was built wide and muscular, though her form was hidden beneath a uniform that — even on the last day of school — was neatly ironed and straightened. Sinazo was dark skinned like me, with a square face, a wide nose and lips continually pursed as if expecting to be disappointed.
In a word she was intimidating, the sentiment compounded by her focus and drive, the entire reason she, me and Rasheed could be considered friends.
“Check it out,” Rasheed said in a loud whisper. Sinazo didn’t react. “I think Miss Genius is nervous.”
That she reacted to, head turning and eyes taking in Rasheed from head to toe, something that made him stop and tense. I smiled, careful as I went down the giant steps to a level below her. Sinazo didn’t smile, but her expression softened as she looked down at me.
“How’s studying going?” I asked. Rasheed sat beside Sinazo, visibly nervous and then calming down when she didn’t say anything. The sight made my stomach turn, especially when the why of it was so clear. Rasheed had a crush on Sinazo, something that meant…
I bit down the thought before it could reach its natural conclusion — it wouldn’t do any good.
Sinazo’s eyes moved to the horizon. “I haven’t been studying for the past while,” she said.
“That’s not like you,” I said.
“Yeah,” Rasheed joined in. “You’re like the study master.” He groaned. “I remember what it was like studying with you during the trial exams, torture.”
A bit of irritation ran across Sinazo’s expression but she tamped it down, her right hand went to the upper portion of her arm, close to her armpit and she rubbed it.
A shudder ran through me and I was left disappointed in myself.
It wasn’t something she announced, but it also wasn’t something she hid either. Sinazo had ubizo — the calling. She had been given the ability to commune with her ancestors, apparently the ability was still untrained and for a boost she had a band around her arm that increased her connection to her ancestors.
At least that was the story shared between the black kids in Hillmont High.
I didn’t believe it — the existence of the ancestors or any gods. Life was what we lived and beyond that there was darkness. But I’d been raised to believe, to put stock in the supernatural, and no matter how much I told myself I was an atheist, a part of me was afraid of messing with Sinazo not just because she could probably beat me up, but also because it would mean having to contend with her ancestors.
“I just have a bad feeling,” Sinazo finally said.
“Could be nervous,” I said.
Disgust dawned her expression as she shook her head. “It’s not what you’re thinking,” she said. “It’s not the exam. I’ve worked and made sure I know my stuff. I’ll pass, I’m sure of it.”
“Give some of that confidence to him why don’t you,” Rasheed said with a pointed jab at me.
Sinazo gave me her full attention. “You’re going to pass too, Jabu,” she said. “Without a doubt. Even you, Rasheed, if you don’t get distracted,” the last said with a chiding tone.
“I’ll choose to take that as a compliment,” he said and grinned. “Thanks.”
Sinazo let out a sigh, again turning to the horizon. Rasheed’s grin dimmed and he shrugged, a gesture that said ‘see, she doesn’t like me.’
I shrugged in return.
“I woke up this morning,” Sinazo said, the words slow and measured, “and I didn’t want to come to school. Even knowing how important today is, my legs felt heavy. I had to push myself to get here.”
“Maybe it’s because you know you’re seconds away from finishing with this place and being free,” Rasheed said and he glanced back in the direction we’d come from, where we could still see Charlene and her friends.
He meant her and the rest of them, the culture of Hillmont, but I couldn’t help slotting myself in there; because Rasheed would be free and that would be without me. It hurt to think about, reminding me again that there was a weight in my stomach.
Sinazo shook her head. “This feeling…it was outside of me,” she said.
“Your ancestors?” Rasheed asked.
Sinazo smiled and nodded. “I think it’s that,” she said, her tone unsure — unlike her. “School first and then I deal with my calling, that’s what I decided with my parents. But the ancestors have their own plans and sometimes they tell or show me things that I can’t interpret yet.”
Rasheed nodded. “Allah shows us the way,” he said. “Sometimes we’re not ready to see his vision for us, but he still tries to show us. It is our duty to trust him and his wisdom.”
Sinazo nodded, still smiling. “It feels the same way with the ancestors. They told me not to come here and it got worse when I arrived, now it feels…it feels like it’s reaching its crescendo.”
“What is?” Rasheed.
“I don’t know,” Sinazo admitted. “But whatever it is, it feels bad.”
“Maybe it’s gonna rain,” I joked. The look both pointed my way was unimpressed. I shrugged. “Sky’s been grey all day.”
“Maybe it’s nothing,” Sinazo admitted, though she sounded like she didn’t believe that. “Maybe I am just nervous. The university I want to go to still hasn’t answered me, even though my marks are good enough I should have been answered by now.”
“Same with him,” Rasheed said, which left me shuffling my feet, doing my best not to meet the gaze of the others. “Him and I planned to go to UKZN together, but they haven’t answered him.”
“Is that right?” Sinazo said, and when I looked up, I saw only disbelief in her eyes. I swallowed and looked down.
“You wanted to go to Medunsa, right,” Rasheed said, moving things along. “I think you mentioned that once.”
Sinazo nodded. “All going well, I’m going to join the family practice,” she said, the words hard. She took a breath and sat up, shoulder straight, her expression focused. “And everything is going to go well,” she said, more to herself than us.
“We’ve got this in the bag,” Rasheed said, nodding.
“Yeah, we do,” I said, grinning.
“Yeah, we do!” Rasheed said, rising to his feet and throwing himself at me, managing to wrap me in a half hug. It was dangerous but he had both a small frame and was lightweight, meaning that a shift of my weight kept me from stumbling back and down. “Now you’re feeling it,” he said.
Still grinning and heart aflutter, my eyes found Sinazo.
She knows, a deep part of me said, but it was hard to be moved, especially when Rasheed’s presence dominated my space. He tried to weigh me down and get me in a hold that only ended up as more of a hug.
“Gay!” I heard and the word was like cold water. At once I moved, a little tilt, a rise and a push that got Rasheed off me, much to his surprise. A moment ago my heart had been hammering because of him, our closeness, but now it pounded because of fear.
I looked around and saw them closer to the sport’s field: Ruaan, my height and build, though he was all muscle, with brown hair and dark brown eyes; Andre, extremely pale, with dark, curly hair, his expression impassive; and Mava, brown skinned and his hair closely cropped, average in build and musculature. Rugby players, all three of them, seated a few rows down without a book or book bag visible. Ruaan and Mava laughed, and Andre looked at the entire thing with an affable air.
Shame fought its way to my face but I kept it back, looking away from them and making sure I wasn’t looking at anyone. Sinazo’s expression was hard, as if she wanted to fight someone while Rasheed blew the trio a kiss, washing away the smile from Ruaan’s face who looked pissed off before a touch by Andre calmed him down.
“Ignore them,” Sinazo said to me, words that made me shift uncomfortably.
“Yeah,” Rasheed said, “it’s not like it would matter if we were gay or anything. It’s not like it’s an insult.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, but I couldn’t keep away the feeling that it sure felt like an insult, or the insult to injury which was that Rasheed didn’t understand. If he did then it meant…it meant that — it meant nothing because this would be our last day together.
A stray raindrop caught me, making me look up — my mistake because it had been the prelude to a deluge. The rainfall was hard, cold, and stinging, forcing my eyes closed as I was immediately drenched. It took a few seconds before I could react, looking down and opening my eyes once more, and when I did the day was as dark as night, rain so dense Sinazo and Rasheed were hard to see.
Rasheed was moving, rushing to grab Sinazo’s books and bag, but the girl herself was frozen, her gaze caught on something directly behind me. I followed her gaze, and squinting I saw something — three stories tall but narrow, shape hidden by the rain I could only see that it was coming towards us.
“Guys!” Rasheed screamed above the hiss of the rain, “Move!” and with that he was off, joining Ruaan, Andre and Mava who had already raced up the stairs.
“S’nazo!” I said and her eyes found mine. “Let’s go!”
She was quick to rise to her feet and as I took her arm, she pulled it away and we ran, across a paved section that separated the field and the school, and under the overhang Rasheed and I had been sitting a bit ago, joining the company of Ruaan, Andre and Mava; and Charlene, Natalie and Sue.
We had no sooner reached the safety of dry ground when there came a shrill scream that spoke only of death.
“It starts,” Sinazo said, the words so low they were almost lost to the hiss of the pounding rain.