There in my pitch-dark lounge, Attie is going on and on about sky-diving.

“I’m telling you, Jos! It’s the most thrilling thing in the world!”

And I just bet Attie is doing all the arm movements too – even though Jos can’t see them.

I’m thinking: poor Jos. But he is playing his part perfectly.

“Gracious, Attie,” says Jos. “That is so brave! I have no head for heights. I panic at the top of a ladder.”

Oh, and I just know – Attie is lapping it up that some other guy thinks he is brave. I bet Attie is warming to Jos.

I sit alone on the hard stool. It’s the only other seat in my lounge. And I am smiling to myself. Even though the stool is really hard. And even though my shin is hurting like hell where I banged it on the coffee table. But hey – what’s a little pain and suffering when you can do some good in the world?

Look at the pain and suffering Mr Mandela had to go through. Twenty-seven years locked up on that island and never getting to see his family! But he accepted it because he knew he was bringing good to the world. So my sore shin is a small price to pay.

Attie says, “Tell you what, Jos, why don’t you and Dennis come with me tomorrow?”

Wow! Attie only invites his really close friends to come sky-diving, and here he is, inviting Jos.

“I’ll think about it,” says Jos. But you can hear in his voice he isn’t keen.

And then – miracle of miracles – Attie stops talking about sky-diving. Instead he asks Jos, “So, are you from England then?”

And Jos starts talking about his studies in London.

“A musician! Oh wow!” says Attie. He sounds impressed. “So who’s your favourite composer?”

Composer? I can’t believe Attie actually knows a word like that.

“Mozart,” says Jos.

“Aah, Mozart,” says Attie, like he knows all about old-fashioned music. Like he discusses Mozart every day. Like he doesn’t only listen to heavy metal – the heavier, the better.

I’m laughing quietly to myself. But this is good. If Attie is trying to impress Jos, that means a lot.

I say, “Jos, tell Attie about your landlady in London.”

So Jos starts talking about his red-headed, mad, chain-smoking landlady. Just like he told me on Monday when we were at that coffee shop and those white guys at the counter were mocking us. And I tell you what, the stories are just as funny the second time around.

Attie is packing up laughing there on the sofa. “Jeez, that’s hilarious, Jos!”

Oh man, I am feeling so good. My bullet plan is working out, bullet-point by bullet-point. I feel like I’m the director of some amazing Oscar-winning movie! Even though I can’t see a thing. I haven’t felt this good since – hey, since back in Grade 8 at school when I wrote a poem and the teacher said it was the best in the whole class. I even had to stand up and read it in front of Friday assembly! … Sorry, I’m going off at a tangent again.

But suddenly there in the darkness I hear something that scares the pants off me. Attie is saying, “Let me tell you this joke, Jos. It’s really good.”

Oh no, please. If Attie comes out with one his racist jokes, everything will go pear-shaped. All my hard work will be for nothing!

***

Tell us: How do you think Jos will react to one of Attie’s jokes?