Like it Matters (14 page)

I watched the shape duck its head. Its shoulders went up and down, like in a deep sigh.

The door slammed closed.

I
NOTICED AT THIS
S
PUR
, they really cashed in on the Red Indian thing.

All the waitresses were Malay-looking, and they were all wearing tasselled leather skirts and pieces of turquoise and they all had feathers in their hair. We cheersed our drinks and then Dewald and Charlotte looked at each other. Dewald said to me, “Raait, Ed, are you ready to hear the plan?”

“Fuck,” I said. “First, Charlotte, please just listen to me. Can I just tell you about Freddy, please? That all really happened, I promise. How else did I find out about the battery?”

She rolled her eyes. “Just listen to Dewald,” she said

And he broke in, “We organised a buy, Ed. It’s
lots
, and it’s cheap.”

And never mind my worries about Freddy and the car, and never mind the wheel I’d put myself through the last few days about getting back on some kind of path with Charlotte—

Straight away the equation presented itself in my head.

I needed to use Dewald to get the drugs and get them sold and get some money in my hands, then use the money to get Charlotte and me as far away from him as possible.

“How much is lots?” I said.

“Enough.”

“Enough for Mozambique?” I said, and I looked at her.

And I don’t know what I wanted to see in her face—
excitement
? Maybe some kind of confidentiality, even, like half a secret we were sharing

But there was nothing like that.

She looked away, almost like she was annoyed, and it deepened this worry I’d had the past few days, ever since she’d lied to me about snorting in the room with Dewald—

This worry that maybe I’d moved in on her dream with the Mozambique thing, when there wasn’t actually any space for me in it.

“Fuck, bra, Moz would be the easiest thing in the world,” Dewald said.

“Wow.”

“But you need to help.”

“Why me?”

“It has to look right,” Dewald said. “The guy thinks he’s selling to my boss. You talk nice.”

“And what will you do?” I said.

“Who you think’s driving?”

I couldn’t come up with any more questions.

I said, “Cool, I’ll think about it.”

“
Poes
, man,” Dewald said. “This is proper money, naaier. Either you in or you out.
Now
.”

Charlotte said, “Jesus, Dewald—”

But I just looked at him and said, “I’ll definitely need to dry out a bit.”

“Kiff, fine,” Dewald said. “You got a few days.”

I looked at Charlotte and I said, “Will you stay home?”

She bit her lip and nodded at me.

“I’ll also need weed or some painkillers or something, otherwise I’ll kill myself before we get there.”

“Ja, sorted,” Dewald said. “So you in?”

“I’ll think about it.”

I think it was in a Kierkegaard book that used to give me a migraine, I only got halfway through it, but this line about how you can lose yourself—the greatest hazard—you can pass off into the world so quietly you don’t even see it happen, you’re too busy focusing on the decay of everything else that’s meant to keep the carnival afloat: your marriage, your house, all the stuff you’ve bought to put in your house …

It was just like that—it was in a fucking
Spur
, watching Dewald go one-on-one with a rack of ribs, piling the bones on the table next to him as he went, while Charlotte got drunk on cocktails that she topped up with a flask under the table, more kids came in, more birthday parties, one in the booth right behind ours

And in the midst of all that

Me—filling my head with dreams about Charlotte’s mother, about us living with her and getting fixed, getting suntans and going jogging on the beach

And I see it now—

I see it so clearly—

Even before the worst night, it was already too late.

The rope’d already gone snap, you’d already lost anchor

You were drifting out, Ed, long before the storm blew in …

T
HE MOON WAS HUGE
, there was even moonlight in the car—

And I was still feeling up, even though a couple of things had threatened to throw me—

And we’d been clear of Simonstown for ages but we were still going very slowly.

Forty, forty-five at the most. The car stayed out of gear mainly, then Dewald would just slip it into third on the hills, and then we’d sail down the other side again with his foot tapping on the brakes.

“We got to be like ghosts tonight, bra,” he said. “Like ninjas. No one must notice a thing.”

I stared out the window. Under the full moon, the sea looked like a huge piece of crushed velvet. Shimmering midnight blue. I closed my eyes and I tried to Zen out as much as possible, which wasn’t easy thanks to the pipe Dewald had racked us just before we left the house.

Breathe, Ed.

You know why you’re here.

You know why you’re here.

I felt the car slow down and I opened my eyes.

Dewald said, “Raait, Eddetjie, now’s your time to shine.”

We were on a bit of a downhill, and near the bottom of the slope, before the road climbed and switchbacked to take in a peak on the coastline, I saw a turn-off coming up on the right. And a couple of houses there where the new road started.

Dewald took a long look in the rear-view mirror, then peered forward to see if anything was coming towards us round the bend—then he turned off the lights and cut the engine. We went soundlessly over to the other side of the road with a feeling like floating, then he got us onto the turn-off and past the houses just steering by the moonlight.

The car stopped.

“Jesus, what’s up?” I said.

“Ja. Nou word dit exciting,” Dewald said. “Duidelik. You got to help me steer, Ed, blind like this.”

I saw him reset the odometer.

He started the car with his finger on his lips—like that was going to make it quieter or something—and then we went on slower than before, even though the moon made it brighter than most of the streets in Muizenberg. I don’t think I’d ever been on that road. It was tarred but really narrow, barely any shoulder, probably an old service road or something.

We did maybe ten kays at that careful pace, pretty easily, but then we passed through this shadow-line in the road—these trees planted right along the edge of the tar—windbreakers. We slowed to a crawl, but even then it was quite strange, a bit like we were navigating through deep space.

We stopped again.

Behind us, on the back seat, was a rucksack with all Dewald’s retrenchment money in it—a thick roll of cash and about ten little bricks packed in black plastic—and a backpack he’d also brought along. He reached over and opened the backpack, then took out a headlamp and a bandana and handed them to me.

“What’s this for?”

“Gooi the bandana
Desperado
-style,” he said, and mimed like I should tie it round my face. “You need to stick your head out the door and tell me if I get too close to the shoulder.”

“No, fuck off,” I said. “This is ridiculous.”

“This is
safe
,” he said.

He glared at me.

I put the headlamp on and tried to find the button. I shifted so my left hip was flat on my seat, then I opened the door and stuck my head into the gap. Exactly like if we’d been driving home and I needed to throw up.

As we rolled forward, I could see a bit of the front tyre and then the shoulder in the near distance. But we had to go so slowly, and it was cold with the air blowing in my face, and even though at least I wasn’t choking on any dust, my eyes were fucking suffering, and because I’d used a razor to neaten my beard up a bit before we left, my throat and my cheeks felt on fire. After what seemed like ages, just saying things like
Slow down
and
Keep right
and
There’s a bend now
, I said, “How much further do we have to go?”

“Like this? About twenty kays.”

“Fuck sakes. Just drive a bit faster or something, I’ll tell you when to slow down.”

That was just as awful, and to try to distract myself I thought about saying goodbye to Charlotte when we’d left the house. She was crying—I nearly was, too—and at the time I just thought, same as me, it must’ve been nerves. That soul-dread of having so much invested in one thing.

But I was definitely at the end of my buzz—you know when your thoughts just hitch onto your feelings, and you can’t stop them?—and all of a sudden I got a grim view of those tears, and it almost sank me.

Does she know, Ed?

That when you get home—she’s gone?

Is that it?

Has she made her plans already?

Every bad thought you could think of—I started crying at some point—and I didn’t say a thing to Dewald for ten minutes, at least.

When I knew my voice wouldn’t crack, I called out, “How’re we looking? Are we close?”

“Amper, amper,” Dewald said

But it was still ages till he stopped the car and announced, “Vyf en dertig. Hier’s ons. Kom binne.”

I took off my seat belt, found the water and opened my door, filled my hands and rinsed my face. “What’s the time?” I said.

“Just after eleven.”

“No ways.”

“Nee, regtig.”

“Even with all that stealth shit? Why’re we so early?”

“Nee, man, dis goed. It gives us time to get ready.”

He took off his seat belt and reached into the back seat and started digging around in his backpack.

First came the little pouch he kept his pipe in. Then a small bag filled with powder. He said, “Bra, if you going to stare, gooi that headlamp on there, please.”

He filled the pipe and then closed the bag.

“Buite,” he said, and opened his door.

There was no wind where we’d stopped and the night was quite warm. The moon was all alone in the sky between the trees, almost bright enough to be putting out heat. I was wearing all my black clothes, and the jacket I had on was too heavy so I chucked it on the bonnet. It was very quiet out there, just frogs and insect noises.

I heard Dewald’s lighter flaring and then the smell of the pipe started curdling the air. I felt like I was smelling it in my throat.

Dewald let the smoke out quickly, but it hit him hard. Either that or he was just being theatrical about it. As soon as he’d exhaled he jumped up and down, then spun around on the spot, then kind of got down on one knee and offered me the pipe.

“Moer.
Dis
’n Concoction,” he said.

I took a short pull, nothing special—

But when I swallowed the smoke my stomach just erupted, and I heaved and threw up thick bile.

My throat felt seared and my nose was completely fugged up, my eyes watered like they were trying to put a fire out, my hands shook, I felt like I’d been needing to piss for days

But then beyond the pain, almost
behind
it, I sensed the night coming into view again—

That deliverance you get maybe every fifty times you get high, every hundred—

That glorious feeling of being born again into a different place, a new world where, just for a second, you’re not you and you never ever have been.

My skin prickled. I ripped off my
T
-shirt and I said, “Are these moonbeams also making you
hot
? Fuck, it’s like silver sun.”

Dewald checked his watch.

“Ja,” he said. “Dis tyd.”

“Time for what?”

“Are you calm, Ed?”

“I
was
—what the fuck’s going on?”

He put his hands on my shoulders and said, “Bly kalm, bra. I’m about to tell you. It’s not a big thing.”

“Just say then, please.”

“You don’t want another little”—he mimed like he was hitting his pipe—“first?”

“Fuck, no man, come on. Just tell me.”

“Oraait, chill. Jissus.” He took a deep breath. “You know the guy I told you we meeting? The Congolese guy who works for the Russians in Sea Point? We not meeting him.”

“What do you mean?”

“We meeting a guy I know,” he said.

But I knew that wasn’t everything.

Before he spoke again—it was like when you see something delicate’s about to fall and break, and you know you don’t have time to catch it—I felt my ribs turn to ice

And he was smiling

“And we not going to
buy
a fucking thing,” he said.

I
DON
’
T REMEMBER SITTING DOWN
, or falling, or whatever it was—

But there I was, sitting in the road and it felt like I was swallowing blood.

Dewald sat down next to me and started rubbing my back—I think he was helping me get my breath. “What’s even better than buying so much tik for eighty
K
, bra? Hey? Not paying for it.”

I had one thing on my mind.

“Does Charlotte know? Actually don’t tell me. No, tell me.”

Dewald said, “Think of the money, bra.”

“Fuck man, we’re buying ten kilos of the easiest drug to sell in the world. You know how much we’ll make, it’s enough. It’s enough, man. Forget the fucking robbery part.”