Themba rolled up outside of Mama’s, freshly showered and dressed in a Polo T-shirt. He didn’t want to be too formal but thought he should make an effort. Still humming Boyz II Men’s Song for Mama, which had just played on the radio, he parked on the pavement dirt, locked the car and strolled into the tavern with his head high. He was early, but to his surprise, all of them were there already, with a bucket of beers and a two-litre bottle of Coke on the table. He sat down and gave them each a handshake. Bust popped open an Amstel and held it out to Themba.

“Hey, Tee, take it.” He took it, reluctantly, vowing to himself that this would be his only drink tonight. His mom was on his mind. She hadn’t come home by the time he left, which was unusual. She hadn’t called either, or picked up when Themba tried to call her. She’s fine, he thought.

“Cheers,” he said, and they all clinked beer bottles. After a few moments of quiet drinking, Prince broke the silence.

“So,” said Prince, seriously, “you are new here. And we think you need some friends to have your back in case something bad happens.” What bad things, Themba wondered.

“We know you’re not part of our culture but we don’t mind. You’re cool, Themba. So we want to invite you to be part of our group.”

Themba did his best to hide his big grin. This was exactly what he had been waiting for! He took a quick swig of his beer.

“But you’re not in yet,” said Prince slowly, and with that same strange look as before. Themba felt uneasy.

“OK, so what do I have to do?” He had kind of expected something like this but kept pushing the thought away, especially because there was so much on his mind already. He was hoping it wouldn’t be anything too bad. In particular, he didn’t want to steal anything.

“Well, we have to see if you’re gonna be good with us. We know you can fight.” He nodded towards Vusi.

“And you have itransie. But uyibharu?” He smiled a secret smile at the others. They smiled back.

“Well, are you?” he asked Themba. “You didn’t do much to help us in the mall.”

“Uh, no. I’m not. I fought Vusi. I didn’t know what you were doing at the shops. You didn’t explain.”

“Let’s see how you handle your ispinza first. Can’t have an ibharu hanging around with us, vomiting or making a scene. Vusi, the brandy please.” Vusi handed Prince a bottle of brandy under the table. Prince poured about two shots into a glass and added some Coke.

“For you,” he said. Themba’s heart sank, but they were all watching. He would have to drink it. And then, out of the corner of his eye, Themba saw the last thing he wanted to see – his mother walking into the bar. He turned to get a better look. It was definitely her and she had come alone. He watched her walk towards the bar and ask if a seat was free, between two seedy but flashy-looking men. He watched as one of the men, the one with the large pot belly and shades, ordered her a drink. Themba felt his blood boil; this was too much. What was she doing here?

He pulled his hood over his head, leaning forward towards the table, hoping that she wouldn’t see him. He told himself that he didn’t need her.

The others were all staring at him. He took a sip of the brandy and Coke. It very strong but he kept a straight face. Maybe this could work. Maybe these guys could become like family to him. He drank deeply and was almost finished the glass.

“Nice job,” said Prince. “But let’s see how you’re feeling in an hour.” He topped up Themba’s glass with brandy and Coke.

“And now that you’re in our part of the country, you have to try the local ladies, doesn’t he, gents?” They laughed. “We were just talking before you arrived, Tee, and decided that if you’re really not bangbroek and you want to join us, you have to have sex with Lettie – and prove it.”

“Even if she doesn’t want it. That will teach her. She thinks she’s so special,” Vusi sneered.

Themba didn’t say anything. With what felt like a stone in his heart, he downed the second brandy and Coke, and chased it with a gulp of beer. He was in a daze.

“Hang on, I need to go to the bathroom,” he mumbled. He stood up.

“Booo, you chicken! Bawk, bawk, bawk!” he heard the others yell as he walked away. With his hood hanging low over his face, he stumbled to the urinals and unzipped his pants. He stared at the wall, into nothing. Lettie? Really, Lettie? He knew he wanted to be in the gang, and he liked Lettie a lot, but what if she didn’t want to? What then? He couldn’t bear to think of the word, ‘rape’, but it kept coming back to his mind. Could he do it?

But his mind was swimming, in beer and brandy, in the confusion about his mom somewhere in the shebeen – and about Lettie. He washed his hands slowly, with lots of soap, his mind a blank, and walked back to the boys, numb inside and out.

He sat down while the others were talking and laughing noisily. He finished his drink and pounded his fist on the table, sitting up straight. In a loud voice he interrupted their conversation.

“I’m gonna do it! I’ll show you! I’m not a bangbroek! Watch out, Lettie …” He ended in a show of bravery that he didn’t feel.

“Just watch, guys, this chick is gonna love me! Ha ha! Pour me another, Prince.”

“Glad that you’re not a bangbroek, Tee. As we always say, ndoda, ‘Money and brothers over bitches, that’s for sure’, right, ouens?”

“Right,” said Bust.

“You’ve got one week,” said Prince.