Mr Katz lay like a heap of old rags on the garden path. With a thudding heart, Thabi bent over him, and felt for his pulse. Was he dead? “Tata, can you hear me?” she called. He opened his eyes.

“I’m phoning the ambulance,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Hang in there, Tata. I’ll get you to the hospital.”

He groaned, “Thabi…”

She tried to assess the damage. It looked like he’d fallen and hit his head on a brick. The blood was coming from a cut just above his ear. She took off her jersey and wrapped it around his head. Then she grabbed her cellphone and dialled 10111 – the emergency service.

She waited for the ambulance to arrive, talking gently to him, trying to keep him awake. Poor old man, she thought, as she watched him fluttering in and out of consciousness. He must have been lying here for hours. If only Mrs Ram had let him stay at the coffee shop instead of kicking him out. I knew he was too sick to go home alone. She took his hand. He was deathly cold.

“Wait here,” she whispered, finding his house keys in his pocket. She unlocked the front door and went inside to find him a blanket. The house was filthy. And it was filled from floor to ceiling with old newspapers, cardboard boxes, empty packets, broken furniture: more junk than she’d seen in her life. She found his ‘bed’ – he was sleeping on the sofa in the lounge, surrounded by piles of junk. It was like being in a rubbish dump, with just a few pathways through the mess to show that someone lived there. She grabbed a blanket and hurried out to him, appalled. How could anyone live like this – like a rat in a garbage heap?

“Here, you go,” she said, tenderly wrapping the dirty blanket around him. “The ambulance will be here soon.”

What she had seen inside his house had shocked her. Someone needs to get hold of his son, she thought. He needs someone to look after him. Or he needs to move to an old age home.

She heard the sirens, and patted Mr Katz’s hand. “They’re here, Tata. The ambulance is here to take you to hospital.”

Not a moment too soon, she thought as he opened his eyes and his body was wracked by a cough. It only took a few minutes for the paramedics to assess him, and to lift him onto a stretcher.

“Does he have medical aid?” the paramedic asked her.

She shook her head. “He’s very poor. I don’t think he has anything.”

“We’ll take him to the government hospital,” he said.

“I’ll come and see you tomorrow,” Thabi said. She bent over and kissed his cheek. “Hang in there, Tata. We’ll make a plan…”

He opened his eyes. “Thank you, my dear.”

Her heart was heavy as the paramedics rolled the stretcher into the ambulance and drove away, lights flashing. Would she ever see him again?

It was only as she left for the train station that she realised she still had his house keys in her hand.

***

Tell us what you think: What will Thabi do next? Will she try and tidy his house for him?