Pearl

We signed Gcina up to write her matric this December. We have all the material she needs. I hired three home-schooling teachers to teach her the material. She hates it, but she will get over it. They use the study to work and have their classes. She starts at 8am and her day ends at 4pm. I am working from home as well because the Covid-19 third wave has kicked in and people are dying again.

I think Qaphela is back in crime again because he “works” now and managed to buy himself a car – a Golf 7R to be specific – cash. I pretend to turn a blind eye to his actions and movements, but I’m not stupid. Yesterday I asked him, begged him actually, to not get caught. “Whatever it is you are doing, always think about Gcina and I and always make sure you come back home. We will not survive it again if you go back to prison“, I said to him.

He looked at me like I hurt his feelings. He must know. Every step he takes and every move he makes, he must just have it in his mind that this time, his family will not make it if he leaves us again.

He is always here at our place. Now that the third wave is real, I told him to move in and lessen his movements because he will make us sick.

I have just concluded my last meeting for the day and am in the kitchen having my late afternoon snack. I will cook when I come back from dropping Ronica off. Gcina is still in her class and Qaphela has texted me to say that he is on his way back. I drive our domestic worker home now, and not let her use public transport because Covid.

I told my mom to come stay with us, but she refuses to leave her house. I’m fine with that. But I do sleep better and appear to be a better person because I offered and cared for five minutes.

“Gcina, I’m taking Ronica home. Your dad is on his way”, I say.

“Okay mah. Please bring me something nice”, she says.

Whatever that is. On good days, she calls me mom and it feels nice. On days when she feels like being herself, she calls me Nobantu.

Ronica and I get into my car. I take off.

I think about asking her about her family, but I don’t want her thinking that we are friends. She didn’t come to work yesterday because her child was sick. So let me ask her about that.

“Is your child better?”

“She will be fine, Sis Pearl. She got hurt at school and we think her baby might not make it.”

“Baby?”

“Yes, she’s pregnant. That child is just so forward. She is only in grade nine and she is already pregnant.” Ronica says.

I don’t comment because I was sixteen when I had that brat I left at home.

“Now, we can’t take her to a hospital because it is full of people who have Corona. They make us go back home when our situation does not seem urgent. A pregnant teenager is not exactly urgent.” She says.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Things will work out though.” What else can I say?

“She needs to find a job. Who will look after that child of hers?” Ronica says.

I’m really not interested in hearing anymore of this story. But Ronica goes on and on about how much of a disappointment her daughter is and how grateful Ishould be that Gcina is such a good child and she doesn’t bring me such issues. If only she knew.

We finally arrive at her house and she gets out of the car. I drive back home. I decide to call Thomas because I want to follow up on how things are going with Palesa. I also miss him. He was a good man. We had a good life together. I have moved on, but I do miss him from time to time.

“Hey”, his voice is so smooth, but he also sounds tired.

“You sound exhausted. What’s wrong?”

“Oh man, it’s just hectic around here. We are working late hours and shit.” He says.

“Shame man. But at least the stilettoes girl keeps you happy and relaxed.” I say.

“She’s great. Plus she gave me a gorgeous baby girl.” He says.

“I’m glad that you are happy, Thomas. That’s all I ever wanted for you and I’m sorry for the times that I never showed you that”, I say.

“Look, we both played a part in making each other unhappy. I played my part in hurting you as well. I do apologise for that and I’m extremely happy for you that you’ve moved on. You sound very happy”, he says.

“I’m content.” I say.

“That’s good. I’m sure your daughter is happy to have you around.” He says.

“We fight all the time. But we are getting there. I need to get her life back on track because she was definitely falling off the rails. Her father is around to help me, so that makes things a lot easier.” I say.

“Oh. He’s out of prison?”

“Yep. And it’s nice having him around. His daughter loves him more than she loves me and I’m the one who’s not scared of her. He is too soft on her. So we balance each other out quite well.”

“That’s good, Pearl. That really is. We both found our happiness after our marriage. I’m glad we are not enemies.” He says.

“Me too. Anyway, keep well. Be a good father to your little angel. You’ve wanted one for years. Now that you have her, cherish her. I hate her mother, but I do ask that you be a much better man to both of them than what you were to me.” I say.

“Keep well.”

The call ends.

I don’t know how I feel, but I guess we are both where we need to be.

I get home and see Qaphela’s car parked in the driveway. I get in the house and find him and some dude, both wearing beanies and overalls, eating chips, Russian, white bread and drinking coke. I can’t!

“Hello baby”, Qaphela greets me.

“Hey. You guys are eating a whole meal of cholesterol”, I say.

They both laugh. That’s not funny though. It’s a fact. Qaphela and I will be old and wrinkled one day. And while my biggest issue will be my knees or arthritis, he will have to worry about arthritis, his knees and some diet-related illness. I’ll be in my old age having to make sure he takes his diabetes insulin shots and medication for cholesterol and high blood.

“Do you remember Mthimbane?” Qaphela asks me.

Oh my goodness. This is the guy he was arrested with. Mthimbane is that friend who was always there, covering up Qaphela’s shit and taking me home when Qaphela couldn’t. I didn’t like him, but Qaphela trusted him the most.

“Kunjani Themba?” I ask him.

“I’m good. It’s good to see you. You look good!” He says.

“Don’t look at her like that.” Qaphela warns him and he’s not laughing. I also saw him undressing me with his eyes. What the hell?

Gcina’s teachers walk out and Gcina comes into the kitchen. Her day is over too.

“Hello baba. Hello uncle Mthimbane”. Gcina.

“You good, baby girl?” Qaphela.

“Yep. Mama, did you bring me something nice?” Gcina.

“Nope. I didn’t stop at a shop. I just dropped Ronica off and came back home. But I’m cooking”, I say.

“You cooking your rabbit food? I’ll eat here with dad and uncle Mthimbane.” Gcina.

What is it with these people and unhealthy food?

The men are laughing at Gcina’s statement.

“Baby, can I see you for a minute in the bedroom?” Qaphela says. I lead him to the bedroom.

…

Qaphela

“Mthimbane is staying over for the night. Is that okay?” I ask her.

I am expecting Nobantu to lose her shit and tell me this is not my house, but she is super chilled about it and simply asks, “Where is he going to sleep?”

“On the couch”, I say.

“Excuse me? On my fifty-thousand rand couch? I’ll go to Westpack and get that inflatable mattress”. She says.

I giggle.

She smiles at me.

“We are good together.” I say.

“We’ve always been. Had you never gone to prison, we would be married with three kids.” She says.

I can see that she means it.

“It’s not too late. We can still get married.” I tell her.

“We are so old now.” She says.

“But we love each other. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of not being sure whether we are together or not; whether we live together or not; whether we share a bond deeper than a child together or not.” I tell her.

She looks at me. Her eyes are vulnerable. Nobantu is not the vulnerable type at all. Truthfully speaking, she is the only woman I have ever truly loved. I’ve always said that if I don’t marry her, I’d never get married. When I heard she married some man from Venda, I almost died in prison. But here we are, she’s come back and I truly believe that she has been brought back to me.

I hold her face, her perfectly smooth face. She rests her cheek on the palm of my hand.

“That day, Nobantu…

Her body tenses. That day changed our lives. We both know which day I’m talking about.

“I tried so hard to forget that day”, she says.

“How can we? Nobantu, our love has history and passion. Gcina wasn’t a mistake. We may have been young, but the reason she brought us back together is because she is evidence of where you and I come from and where we always wanted to end up.”

She comes into my arms and I hold her. My portable Pearl. She has always been skinny and short. Now, she is curvy – yet still thin – and she is still up to the bottom part of my chest. Gcina is even taller than her. She is the shortest person in this house, but she is the biggest bully of us all.

“Let’s go get that mattress for Themba.” She says.

“One round, first?”

I mean, I do need her.

I don’t even have to ask twice, she is already undressed and in her lace underwear. I am already in my boxer shorts, naked too. The best part about my portable Pearl is that I can carry her on my waist and have her against the wall like I do right now, thrusting in and out of her in this position. She loves it. I just know it. She loses her mind and surrenders her entire being to me in this position.

…

Today is Friday. Gcina is doing that home-schooling thing that Nobantu forces her to do and Nobantu is working from home. I find it funny how they fight so much about that home-schooling thing. Nobantu gives Gcina no breaks or options. Gcina finds every possible reason to defy Nobantu. I don’t even know why she bothers because you can never win against Nobantu. That portable Pearl is extremely vicious. But I love that Gcina has started calling Nobantu mom. That’s special. She has her moments when she will say Nobantu, but for the most part, it’s mom.

I am at my office. I bought a warehouse and I have an office at the top of the warehouse. How do I describe my job? Hmmm… I am the CEO of a business that operates in the illegal market. I bought a Spar Tops franchise to clean my money and does well enough to throw off the suspicious people. Nobantu said I should do that. Nobantu knows business. She is one hell of an asset. She knows that I am back in the illegal market and she knows that my rank in the church is higher than what it was before I went to prison. I have never confirmed it to her,but she knows. One night I came home and found her asleep. The next morning, she told me that she bought a Spar Tops franchise for me and I must just know that’s where I will launder the money I make when I am not next to her. I didn’t even fight her. The next week, she told me that I now own a Checkers Hyper as well. I have never been to these shops. She manages them for me. She is in her element when she bosses the employees around. Gcina tells me how much she shits on the employees, so I shouldn’t worry about anyone stealing from me. Gcina and I have fun laughing at this person that Nobantu has become.

My real job is hijackings, organ trade and drug dealing. I have a high-end clientele and they keep me busy. I have people who work for me who ensure that things get done smoothly. We have cops on our payroll as well – their salary from me is much higher than what the government pays them after playing with their feelings by calling them the heroes of our communities. Heroes have to eat too and there is nothing fun about being a humble hero. In this workshop, we strip cars for parts if parts are what we need, and we change the plate numbers and vin numbers of the cars before we give them to our clients. We sell the stripped parts through our legal shop that sells car parts and does wheel alignments for cars. So, if you are involved in an accident and your insurance tells you that they will get you alternative parts that are bought locally instead of internationally, they are fixing your car with the parts found in my shops.

We run a tight ship here and discipline in extremely important. The people who do the high-jackings are highly disciplined and experienced people. I also have people who do house robberies. The only thing we look for is money. We know the houses that keep money in a safe. We know houses that keep valuables in the house. We hit them and we disappear. The drugs are strictly served at expensive parties that have expensive sex workers doing hours for rich people who leave their homes under the lie of going to a work function. I don’t sell to irresponsible kids or ratchet parties that will lead the law abiding police to my door. I make a lot of money. It’s what I know and it’s how I survive. Sometimes, there are jobs that I have to do myself. But for the most part, my employees are more than capable of keeping the ship running.

The pandemic has only made me richer. We have had to become more strategic and disciplined, but people are so paranoid with the pandemic that they forget that there are such things as crime.

I see Nobantu walking through the workshop. She has food. She must be tired of spending the day locked up in the house with Gcina and she came to me for a break, just like Gcina comes to me for peace. I watch her walk up the stairs and in no time, she is in my office.

I smile at her.

“So many cars?” She asks me, her eyebrow raised. The cars are being stripped in the warehouse downstairs.

“Business is good”, I say.

She raises her eyebrows at me again.

“I brought you some lunch. Do you have a minute for me?” She says.

“Always”, I say. We settle on the couch and she opens the food. This food looks weird.

“It’s sushi”, she says.

Jehova!

“It’s nice. Try it before you dismiss it.” She says.

I put a piece in my mouth. I would never be caught dead eating such food. It’s not bad, it’s just the type of food only Nobantu eats in our house. If Gcina were here, she’d be giving Nobantu a piece of her mind regarding Nobantu’s choice in food, then Nobantu would tell her that she will die of cholesterol and diabetes and and and…

“So I’m thinking of resigning from my job”, she says.

“Why? You don’t like it?” I ask her.

“I’m thinking of running the legal side of this business you have going on here. I will share this office space with you then do site inspections”, she says.

I don’t want Nobantu here. No ways. She will want to control shit and this is not a business that she is familiar with. Her loud mouth will cause many casualties.

“Nobantu, I can get you another office. But you can’t work here”, I say.

“Why not? Do your girlfriends come here to see you during the day?” She says. She is weird like that. She likes controlling men to the point where she wants us in one office? I know her office was opposite her ex-husband’s office as well. I’m not that Venda idiot of hers. She’s not going to control me.

“Nobantu, we are not working together. You can quit your job, run whatever you want run, but not from this office. There are no girlfriends coming here, I just need to be focused when I am here.” I say.

“Are you going to cheat on me, Q?”

What gives her this impression? I’m not brave enough to cheat on Nobantu. I don’t even remember us making things official between us, but I’d still not cheat on her. I proposed that we get married and I am still waiting for her to give me an answer.

“I don’t have a death wish, Nobantu. I want to marry you, love you and take care of you. I have no intention of doing the opposite of that.” I say.

She smiles. Good.

“I’m still setting up office here”, she says.

No, she’s not.

“Bozza, a minute?” One of my employees comes into the office and says. He is a deacon, so it must be important.

“Can it wait? My vrou is here.”

“Just a minute, mfundisi.”

“Love, do you mind?”

“Yes, I mind. He is coming, bhuti.” You see why I cannot have Nobantu here sharing an office with me?

“Ngiyeza M’Deacon” I say.

“After an hour. And please close the door and tell the rest of the staff that he is not to be disturbed.”

That’s it!

“Sthandwa sami, I’ll see you back at home.” I say as I help her stand up from the chair.

“I’m not leaving.”

“You have to leave, babe. Cops are on their way.”

“What?!”

“I have it under control. I just don’t want you here.”

“Qaphela, you promised me you wouldn’t go back to jail.”

I used the worst lie to get her out of here. Now she’s triggered. I don’t need this right now.

“Sthandwa sami, I have everything under control. Please – just go home. I’ll phone you after the cops leave and I will be in bed with you tonight. You have my word.” I kiss her fingers as I say this.

She’s not impressed, but she leaves.

Women!

…

“The bishop wants us in Tholoana Kingdom tonight”, my deacon tells me.

“Did you get a message as to why we will be there?” I ask.

“His deacon didn’t say much. He just wants us all there. We will be on a mission, so if we bring plus ones then they will need to stay put in a hotel. Pope will organise.”

I nod my head. I am wondering how I am going to propose this to Nobantu. Maybe I can position it as a surprise trip then propose once and for all to her. She will forgive me for being in meetings while we are there. Besides, Nobantu is not one to have an issue with a working man.

“Okay. I’ll drive down this evening.” I say.

“Your vrou is hectic. Is she going to be a problem?”

“My vrou is my problem, not yours. Ungazongenelwa ukuphapha.” Who does he think he is talking about Nobantu like that? Not even my friends discuss Nobantu.

“I was just saying –

“I’ll beat you into a fucken coma, son! Don’t talk about my wife or daughter.”

He raises his hands in surrender.

“I’m hitting the road, mfundisi. I’ll make sure all is set before you arrive.”

We shake hands and he leaves my site.

…

“Baby”.

“Yes, Q?”

“Please pack a bag for us?”

“Who’s us?”

“Me, you and Gcina.”

“Why?”

“We going away.”

“To where?”

“Tholoana Kingdom.”

“For what?”

“Nobantu, please pack. When I get there, we leave. I am spoiling you and Gcina.”

“In Tholoana Kingdom of all places? What happened to Paris?”

This woman!

“Nobantu, please pack. Or am I going alone?”

Silence…

“How long will we be gone for?” She asks me.

“Just two weeks.”

“Gcina has school.”

“But –

“No, Q. She is not missing school. You and I will go. I’ll get Ronica to come here and keep an eye on her and manage her days. You and I will go.”

“Okay. Thank you baby. I’ll be there in thirty minutes then we drive down.”

“Okay love. See you soon. I’ll start packing.”