Smile parks his car on the pavement in Unit 1, a section of Hammarsdale Township. Kids are playing soccer on the street a distance from where he is parked. Normally, the kids would run towards a beautiful car with a loud engine and praise it, but these kids have received strict warnings from their parents to stay away from this particular car because it belongs to Smile. Most houses in this area are the standard four rooms.

Smile takes out his iPhone and dials. “Bhizos, I’m outside,” he says.

The door of the four-roomed house across from where Smile has parked opens. There are several whoonga boys chatting in the yard. They avoid looking in Smile’s direction. There are also several cars parked in the yard, and two guys fixing one of them. Bhizos emerges from the house. He has a black gym bag slung over his shoulder. He quickly looks up and down the road and darts to Smile’s car.

“Whose car does that look like?” Smile points with his head to a black Mercedes Benz parked down the street.

Bhizos smiles and shakes his head. “You’re the devil’s dog, brother Smile. You are seeing your enemy everywhere now. But relax. That Benz looks like Sphamandla’s car but it’s not. The old man who lives down the road bought that Benz with his retirement money.” He shakes Smile’s hand and gives him the black gym bag.

“You and your bags, Bhizos. Why are you scared of carrying money in your hands?” Smile takes the black gym bag and gives Bhizos the blue Nike bag full of whoonga parcels. “How much money is in here?”

“Fifteen Gs,” Bhizos bends and looks at his reflection in the closed mirror-tinted window behind the driver’s door. He wipes off a spot of butter on the corner of his mouth with a thumb.

“You were eating, Bhizos?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s why you’re weak, Bhizos. Real gangsters don’t eat.”

Bhizos laughs. “If that is true then you’re the fakest gangster there is, brother Smile.”

“I’m not a gangster at all, Bhizos, I’m a businessman,” Smile points at the black Mercedes Benz. “Are you sure that’s not one of Sphamandla’s cars?”

“I’m sure. Just relax, will you?” says Bhizos.

“Like I was saying. I’m not a gangster, I’m a businessman. That is what Bhengu didn’t understand. He wanted me to sell whoonga and do all the dirty work only for him to come and take all the money. That’s what ruined our relationship.”

“Ey, but brother Smile, there’s a rumour going around that Sphamandla sold one of his father’s taxis to pay for hit men to off you. There is a heavy price on your head, brother Smile.”

“See? This Sphamandla boy is not a businessman at all. He is wasting money trying to kill a man who did nothing wrong,” Smile says. “If his father didn’t try to kill me when I stopped working for him, he’d still be alive.” Smile opens the cubbyhole. He takes a sealed box of fifty pistol bullets and gives it to Bhizos. “They might also come for you. Take these and make sure you don’t die while you still have bullets.”

“I won’t die at all, brother Smile,” Bhizos takes the box of bullets.

Smile chuckles and starts his car. “You’re not me, Bhizos,” he says and drives off.

***

Tell us: What do you think of Bhizos calling himself a ‘businessman’?