I grab her face again.

“Like we said, we only want Nhlanhla,” I say. “This has nothing to do with you. You have a choice. If you relax and do as I say, no harm will be done to you. But if you do otherwise and call the police, we will come back and kill you. Do you understand?”

She nods vigorously.

“How does your helper get in the house?”

“She has a key,” she says.

I bind her feet and hands with duct tape and carry her on my shoulder to a bedroom. I throw her on a bed and look into her eyes.

“If you value your life you won’t report what happened here to the police,” I say.

She nods. I tear off a piece of duct tape and cover her mouth.

“Your helper will find you in the morning. Stay put until then.”

I lock the door from outside and leave the key on the lock. There is no one in the lounge. The VW kombi is idling outside.

I get in the back of the kombi and take off my balaclava. Nhlanhla and the unconscious dealer are both bound. Mgodoyi has plastered duct tape over their eyes. I understand that now comes the dangerous part. Nhlanhla and the dealer are going to be killed. I quickly count the cash. Nhlanhla has only spent R12 000 of the money he withdrew.

“We need a secluded spot where we can get rid of these two, old man,” says Mgodoyi.

“I know a place,” says the old man.

I count R60 000 in R200 notes. We come to a stop at a red light. A petrol station glows fluorescent in the night beyond the red light. I shove the R60 000 I have just counted into my jacket pockets. I jump to the passenger seat, open the door and get out.

“Hey Mandla!” says Mgodoyi.

“No ways, Mgodoyi,” I look straight into his eyes. “I’m taking this R60 000. R30 000 is to pay the guys who actually did the grass cutting. The other R30 000 is mine. There is enough money left to pay back what I owe Senzo in that bag. If you take out Senzo’s R65 000 you’ll be left with plenty to share between you.”

“Mandla!”

“No, Mgodoyi. I’m not going to do what you want me to do. There is no need to kill them, if you look at it. Those two at the back won’t talk. The girl won’t talk. We have found the money.”

“Mandla, I’m warning you! Get back in the car!”

The light turns green.

“No, Mgodoyi! There’s no need to kill them!”

I turn and head for the petrol station. I’m expecting a bullet to hit the back of my head but it never comes. The kombi takes off slowly. The passenger window rolls down. Mgodoyi jumps into the passenger seat. They both look at me. They raise their left thumbs at me and nod. I nod back and raise up my left thumb.

I catch a cab straight to Park Station. I wait until morning and get on the first taxi home. I switch on my cellphone when the taxi enters Durban. There’s a message from Senzo sent thirty minutes earlier. I open the message to find two thumbs-up emojis. I don’t reply. I call Gugu instead.

*****

Tell us: What do you think of Mandla’s choice to call Gugu instead of going with Mgodoyi? What does this mean for his future?