I had my earphones in, Rihanna’s You da One cranked up to full volume, but I could still hear Mama’s voice floating through from outside.

“Eish, Levi!” she was yelling at my brother. “What do you think you are doing?”

Uh-oh, I thought. If she’s shouting at Levi he must have done something really naughty – like letting another stray dog into the yard. Six weeks ago he’d shuffled home, a half-starved mongrel trailing at his heels. Levi begged Mama to let him keep the dog, which he’d already named Zizu (my brother has weird taste in names), promising that he’d take responsibility for it.

Mama stayed angry with him for a while, but she always lets Levi have his way in the end. My mother is a tough woman – her sharp tongue can be more painful than a hornet’s sting – but where my little brother is concerned she’s as soft as butter.

I trudged outside, expecting to find another mangy animal sniffing round the yard. I seriously wasn’t prepared for what I saw cowering next to the gate.

“Holy crap!” I yelled.

Mama smacked me around the ear. “Nyameka! Do not use that language! And why weren’t you watching your brother? Look what he has done!”

So unfair! Why did I always get the blame? “But, Mama–”

“Enough!” She turned her furious attention back to Levi. “Levi. First you are late, making me worry, and then you come home with this!”

I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Ugh! It was gross. Its hair was entirely gone, its skin so dried onto its bones I couldn’t tell if it was once black or white. Its withered eyes glinted from deep in their sockets. It was still wearing a pair of battered Converse takkies, a pair of mouldy skinny jeans and a ripped T-shirt. Judging by its size and shape it looked like it might once have been a teenage boy, probably not much older than me.

Mama gathered Zizu into her arms to keep her from snapping at the thing’s legs, and passed her to me.

“Where could it have come from?” I asked, stroking Zizu’s head to calm the dog down. As far as I knew, the nearest camp was in Durban, at least an hour’s drive from here. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen one wandering free.

“Yes, where did you find it, Levi?’ Mama asked.

“I was at the soccer field. It came out of the bushes there.”

My mother clucked her tongue. “You should have left it where you found it.”

Levi scuffed his foot in the dirt, refusing to meet Mama’s eyes. That wasn’t unusual. Levi never looked anyone full in the face, not even Mama. Mama says he’s special, but I’m not so sure. He rarely smiles, never laughs and is always staring off into space. Maybe he’s just weird.

“He followed me home,” he said. “He wants to be my friend, Mama.”

“Some friend,” I muttered. I knew it wasn’t dangerous. I knew that it couldn’t infect us or anything like that, but just looking at it made me feel sick. And it smelled vile. Like rotten apricots. It just stood there, by the gate, weaving on its stick legs, making a strange moaning sound.

Mama grabbed the broom and poked at it. “Get away!”

“Mama! Don’t do that!” Levi said, his voice thick with tears.

It turned its head in Levi’s direction as if it was begging my brother to help it. But I knew that was just my imagination playing tricks.

I mean, you can’t ask someone to help you if you’re dead, can you?

***

What do you think they should do with the ‘thing’ that Levi brings home?