The phone rings. Siyanda looks down at it. He doesn’t know the number, but he answers.

It’s Sizwe. He panics. Who gave Sizwe his number?

Sizwe says he wants to meet. Siyanda tries to put up a fight. “We have nothing to talk about, Sizwe. I have a new life apha. You didn’t come out of jail for me.”

Sizwe becomes enraged. “You think I give a shit about your new life? You and I know the truth. We know what you did in 2012. Do you think these people would give a shit about you if they knew what you did?”

Siyanda can feel himself begin to shake. He’d forgotten, blocked out, that Sizwe was there on that night. There’s no escaping this. He has to go. He’ll do whatever Sizwe asks. He has to keep the secret. Makhulu can’t know. Thandiwe can’t know. It would kill them.

They meet. The mood is tense, the conversation dominated by Sizwe. He’s blackmailing Siyanda.

“I’ll tell that little bitch of yours everything. And then when I’m done with her I’ll go to your new mother. What do people call her, again? Makhulu? Mam’ Nomasonto? Ya, I’ll tell her everything. It’ll probably just kill her. She looks old. I don’t know why she took in a dog like you.”

Starting the next day, they will run a couple of money-making schemes which Siyanda has no choice but to participate in. That’s the plan Sizwe blackmails Siyanda into. Siyanda feels like a passenger in a crashing car. There’s nothing he can do. His life, everything is at stake.

A voice inside him says there might be a way out. Beg. Siyanda tries to beg. He’s on the verge of tears. Sizwe isn’t letting up.

“I’ll tell them about that boy that we killed. Did you think I forgot? I remember everything. Do you remember who was digging the hole? You. You were digging the hole. And when his parents started looking for him, you watched just like all of us – doing nothing.”

*****

Siyanda looks at the time on his phone screen. It’s 07:30. Wednesday. The sun is already shining. He wishes he could hold the day back, stop time from moving. Today is the day, Sizwe had said.

He tries to go about his normal routine, which includes bringing a cup of warm water to Makhulu in bed so that she can gargle and rinse her mouth. Then he has to go and prepare breakfast for the two of them.

But thoughts of Sizwe are at the forefront of his mind. What are they going to do? He’s supposed to be done with this life. Even nightmares are better than this. At least you wake up from them, and know that it was just a dream.

If only Sizwe was joking. But why would he joke about something so serious? No, it’s real. It’s happening. Sizwe wasn’t joking. He really wants to mess Siyanda’s new life up.

Siyanda is trying to focus on the breakfast he usually makes for him and Makhulu, but it’s like his mind is refusing to cast Sizwe out. Visible through the kitchen window is the front yard and the gate. He’s got one eye on it and the other on the breakfast. What if Sizwe walks through, waving his fake redemption in Makhulu’s face, pretending to be good, to be Siyanda’s good, old friend?

He squeezes one egg too tightly and it cracks open and spills onto his hand and onto the stove. Shit. He tries to wipe it quickly. Makhulu doesn’t like messy people. Shit.

You said shit, a dirty word. Sizwe is back and you’re already changing: swearing, lying. You’re disappointing Makhulu and Thandiwe. You don’t deserve them.

The voice in Siyanda’s head torments him.

Makhulu walks into the kitchen in her purple gown, eyes still half-shut, hair grey and messy. “My chef is already awake,” she says teasingly, like it’s just another normal day. But it isn’t. Everything is about to change … if it hasn’t already.

His phone rings. Siyanda looks down at the screen. He doesn’t recognise the number. It’s Sizwe. It must be. Who else would it be? He can’t answer here.

Makhulu laughs as he quickly steps outside. “You young people will never change – so secretive with your phone calls.”

Siyanda puts the phone to his ear. He looks around for a quiet spot, out of sight. “Ya?” He goes around the corner to the back of the house. Silence. No-one will hear them here. There’s an empty field at the back, beyond the yard.

“Is that how you answer a phone now?” asks Sizwe, sounding agitated.

“Sizwe?”

“You can hear it’s me, man! Just shut up and listen.”

Siyanda doesn’t respond. He can’t say anything; that’ll just make Sizwe angrier.

“I want you at my house today. I wasn’t playing when I told you today is the day. Come before ten. Those taxis make the most money in the morning.”

Sizwe drops the phone.

Taxis. It doesn’t make sense. What does he want with taxis? A frightening thought occurs to Siyanda. Sizwe wants to rob the taxis. Taxi drivers! Guns! No-one messes with taxi drivers. They shoot to kill. Everyone knows that. He has to talk some sense into Sizwe. He goes back into the house.

“How’s your friend doing?” asks Makhulu, now standing over the stove, stirring something.

“Which friend, Makhulu?” he says, the look on his face telling a story about how lost he is in his thoughts.

“How many friends do you have kanti? I’m talking about Thandiwe, my future daughter-in-law.”

“Hayi, uright.”

The words finally register in his mind. ‘Daughter-in-law.’ She knows about him and Thandiwe. Makhulu’s a wise old lady. She’s clearly been watching him and Thandiwe together.

“So was she just saying good morning or was there something else that couldn’t wait?” asks Makhulu again.

“She was just calling to tell me I must study hard kuba the end of the year’s almost here.” Siyanda surprises himself with that answer. It came out so easily.

“I was surprised when you told me she’s encouraging you to go back and re-write your matric. That girl is good for you. She’s the kind of wife I want for you.”

“We’re just school kids, Makhulu.”

“The years will surprise you, mntana’m. They go by so quickly. But nam, I’m not talking about now. For now I want you to keep turning your life around. I’m sure when your old friends see you now they don’t even want to come close to you. They can see you’re no longer a tsotsi. You’ve changed.”

Another frightening thought crosses Siyanda’s mind. If she’s put it together that Thandiwe is his girlfriend, won’t she also figure out that something has changed, that Sizwe is forcing him back into the old life, the dirty life? It’ll kill her. She’ll never forgive him. She’d made him promise to go back to school, rewrite his matric exams, make something of his life, not this.

Not what Sizwe is dragging him back into. No!

***

Tell us what you think: Should Siyanda turn to Makhulu for help, come clean with her? Or deal with this himself?