______________________________________

I don't have a cellphone anymore.

I don't have a microwave anymore, and I don't have a way to get to work tomorrow because the money I put aside for this week's transport is gone.

The food I just bought is gone, the braai pack and all the tin stuff which means our food for the next two weeks is cut in half.

I don't know what I'm gonna do.

I don't know how my brother knew I went over to Vivid's house but I know he knew mom was at church-- we try to go every third week once a month or so, but between working and not having time in the week for chores which then fall on the weekends, I don't go as much.

But I did go to Vivid's house earlier, crossed the tracks and everything like I used to-- like I still do and lately, like today, I can't get passed their gate.

It's a big, ugly iron thing, has a chain and lock. Their yard is made of a high brick wall. Still can't believe I bred into such a family. Their front door is always closed so I couldn't see if anyone was home and Vivid still won't answer my calls.

To say I'm pissed is an understatement at this point, I'm ready to fucking explode.

Anyway nxla, this little boy gets home while I'm screaming my lungs out outside Vivid's gates, and cleans me out.

And for what?

I mean I take him food every single day, walking all over this dump looking for him just to make sure he's okay. I've stopped trying to convince him to come home, or to take a bath but I do try to at least keep him alive.

And he does this to me?

What am I going to do now? It all falls on me, as it always does.

My mom is not angry enough for me which pisses me off even further. Lady, what are we gonna eat? What're we gonna do? How am I gonna be in contact with you when I'm not at home?

What are we gonna do at your check up?

It's on Wednesday. This Wednesday. Today is Sunday.

I can't ask any of my bosses for an advance on my cheque when I already have to ask for a day off.

Shad will be cool though I'm starting to feel like I'm taking advantage of him and the other girls at the club have been murmuring shit about it behind my back.

We are not even going to talk about the Mr Sin, or that Zayn man who's being weirdly nice to me.

I take a long breath and run my hands down my face. My head is starting to pound and my face feels hot in my hands, my chest is heavy but that might have to do with the fire burning a few feet from me -- ran out of dry wood and I just have to use the fire for everything now that I have to extraconserve electricity.

My mom takes a seat on the bench next to me, and I'm not in much of a mood to talk to her. I know she'll just defend my little brother, she always does.

She nudges my knee with hers, "Did you find them?" She asks of Vivid them instead.

I just shake my head, keeping my eyes on a fire infront of me. The sun is setting and in the sunset, this place transforms somehow.

It's not as ghastly in the bended light. Not as menacing.

"Ntombiyam, I'm sorry that your brother took--"

"Don't apologize for him ma," I'm tired of it, "And he didn't take anything. He stole. This is theft. He should go to jail."

I see her face fall a bit in my peripheral and my heart stings.

"You won't send your brother to jail," She says to me.

"Of course not but he needs to be somewhere he can't do things like this anymore. Somewhere where he can get better ma, I can't keep..."

Her arm smoothes over my shoulder and she gently pulls me to her. Good thing we're behind the house because my lungs squeeze for oxygen while I focus on trying not to cry. I can't cry.

I don't cry.

My mom's voice breaks a bit as she soothes me and rubs my back but my tears don't fall. I keep them back with very deep breaths which just tighten my chest more and more.

"I should rather apologize for not giving you the life--"

Not this again.

"Ma--" I sit back up and instantly wish I hadn't.

Her face, her eyes are pure heartbreak.

My throat starts to close. What have I done?

But she smiles warmly and cups my cheeks before pulling me into a hug with both arms this time.

She whispers into my hair before pulling me back and cupping my cheeks again, "You're doing better than I ever did."

We're face to face now. I look so much like her, or how she used look. The big hair, deep brown skin and dark eyes.

"And if you're tired... Enhle," I feel her hand tenderly brush mine, "If you can't go on, you can just stop, you can do whatever you want. It's okay baby, we were never your burden to carry. It's not fair on you."

Oh mama.

Now my heart sinks.

"I would never--"

She cuts me off this time, "But it is okay. You've done more than anyone else would've, so rest if you want to."

I know what she's saying but we both know I can't and I won't, it's not even an option. Come hell or high water, I stick with my family.

They would die without me and how can I live without them? My mother? This mother? I'd never leave her for the wolves even if it's the last thing I do.

She rubs my hands and gives them a squeeze, "You bore too much too young, not fair. You never got to just be a child."

"Ma--" I draw the line there in a sternish tone, though you can't really draw the line with black mothers.

Her and I have a very good relationship, always have and I can't imagine a day without her.

She shrugs her frail shoulders under her blue shawl, "We're not your responsibility. You are mine. I just want you to be happy always. Starting with my filing a case with the police about Lebone."

Is she--

"So I can't get Sphe arrested for burglary but I should call the police on Vivid for evading my calls..."

She raises an eyebrow at my tone, "Your brother is your blood, you can stop taking care of him but you don't put him in a jail cell."

"And Vivid is what ma?"

"You know it's much more than that Enhle," She lets my tone slide, "They're up to something and it's going to cost us a lot more than a microwave."

I sober up and pipe down the attitude, "I have it handled."

"No, you don't," Her voice is firm, "Because you're running around here focused on everything but the one thing that matters most," Her face reflect her ire now, "Are they still taking the money?"

I nod and fix myself up as school gets in session. My mother can't stand Vivid's family. She used to work them and... yeah... it ended in tears.

"They ask for more?"

I nod again.

"Good," She nods too, "It's when they stop that you should start worrying. The gates are closed?"

"Toe toe."

"When they open even an inch of that big ugly gate, you squeeze in there, grab what's yours and run. And I mean run Imani, not back here. You leave this township, leave the city if you can but you go."

She only calls me Imani when she's deadly serious.

A few seconds pass in what passes for silence around here. Kids are shouting in the streets, dogs barking, someone is blasting Celine Dion a couple of houses down, the t.v next door which I can easily here our houses are so close... is that a police siren?

"Yebo ma, I hear you," I say finally.

Now my mother is not a hateful person, she's a God-fearing woman, a good woman who'd never habour ill will for anyone.

She clicks her tongue and stands up, "You were too quick to trust that family."

"That's not fair ma," She knows I didn't have a choice.

Like I said, we have a good relationship but it's not without its disagreements and fights. Just... there's a line. Can't just scream and say anything to our mothers, even they're wrong -- which according to them is never.

She judged Vivid based on his family and that's wrong. I mean, turns out him she was not entirely wrong about but she jumped to conclusions about him when we were just kids. He never had a chance and that's not fair either -- he was my best friend.

The kid I knew then is still in there somewhere, just needs space to mature into an adult, a good one but the people he loves believe different and there's nothing I can do about it.

She leaves me on the bench and walks back into the house, clearly annoyed.

"Is the lecture over?" I tease tiredly.

"I can come back, ," She walks back and leans against the corner of the shack, "I can come back and tell you about you, about that boy, and I can tell you about that family until sunrise."

I sigh and run my hands down my face again, I'm definitely getting a headache. Should've kept my mouth shut.

"I can tell you about those friends of yours from the city..."

"Okay ma yoh," What do my friends have to do with anything now?

I know she doesn't like Nandi in particular but... ugh, I have too much to do to let this escalate into something else.

I love it when she's like this though, when she's herself and full of life but I have to focus on what's important right?

Keeping the cleaning job at least til I can get another? I can't afford to not pitch tomorrow, I have to make a plan.

Can't afford a smartphone either that's for sure, so I just have to use those ones where you press a button four times just to type an S.

Then I have to get a new sim card and do a sim swap, my emails I guess I'll get at the internet café that I do not have money for. Food, I'll worry about tomorrow but I'm never buying a microwave again.. not while we still live here and Sphe is still in that condition.

I reign in my pity party, feeling sorry for myself won't make anything better, and decide to piece back what pieces I can-- first being getting to work tomorrow morning.

I can't be absent tomorrow if I want to ask for a day off on Wednesday, and I can't be absent both days because I won't give that man the satisfaction of firing me.

And who do I even talk to about a day off? Him? Zayn? Both?

I'm not looking forward to that, I actually want to do my job in peace and leave with as little interaction as possible.

I don't know conversations how between my boss and I are supposed to go, if we're even supposed to communicate, you just never know with these people. Tomorrow I have no choice but to face him so I guess I'll cross that bridge yadayadayada... for now I can only hope it goes okay.

After pouring some bath water for my mom and setting my half aside, I realize Mam'Noni is the only one I can go to in a situation like this.

She's the only one who I can stomach asking for help, I'm not very good at it but she always seems to know my back is against the wall without me saying anything.

She doesn't make me feel like a leech or a failure, she doesn't make me feel like a bother or burden. Not like all these other idiots who will look at you sideways for not having any money as if we're not all trademarked by poverty.

Mam'Noni is six houses down and remains my mom's best friend through thick and thin. I thought she'd bail like the rest when they found out what's really up with her, but she stuck with us -- helping us where she can, and vice versa.

She sells airtime and electricity, alcohol through the back door but that's a community secret. Point is, she's not ever cash strapped like the rest of us but that doesn't mean I'm comfortable laying my shit on her either way.

I don't ever want to make her feel like I'm taking advantage of her kindness.

All went well with Mam'Noni last night and now I'm in an elevator watching the world get smaller and further under my feet.

Despite my feelings towards my bosses, I like coming here. I still think it's amazing, still not over the view and sheer opulence of it all. It's a welcome break from the shithole I live in.

I know I'm supposed to be proud of where I am from, and I am but I'm not not going to be honest. I'm not going to lie and say I'd choose that over this. I know people who would though, those who have learned to love their poverty, those who only thrive in such places.

I am not one of them and I am not asking for all this -- black and gold marble in the clouds. I dream of it yeah, and I know I deserve the soft life as well but right now I'll take a decent house with some indoor plumbing.

Even indoor plumbing sounds like asking for much, a simple brick house would do, the rest I'll figure out.

I think all this nonsense making my way to the kitchen on instinct, have to check the mug I've set upside down in the sink. I left it there a few days ago when I realized that I'm back to seeing no signs of the man's existence anywhere.

If the mug is gone, that means he must be home or must have stopped by but chances of catching him for that conversation I'm dreading are good, and if it's not there then I'd have to call Zayn.

I have the whole thing planned.

I was rehearsing some of it on the ride into town, didn't even notice that drastic change in scenery from my neighborhood, through the township, to the suburbs, to the city, then to the exclusive area codes.

Today I was too focused on my monologue, a useless one because there's no way these people are going to respond the way they do in my head.

Anyway, the mug is...

Here.

Just the way I left it, with the handles facing the sleek faucets.

Okay. I relax some. I just need to call Zayn then, much better. I should be dealing with him anyway, he's the one who technically hired me.

I go to the back to change into the uniform and get started on my routine.

This is mindless work -- I can clean in my sleep, I can bartend in my sleep. I've been doing both these things since middle school.

I hope the next job I land is better than this, not just pay wise but this... gathering of brushes, cloths and chemicals in a bucket. Until then though, we dala what we must.

It takes me a second too long to register what I'm seeing right now--

Mr Sin.

With a woman kneeling before him.

Mr Sin in his black dress pants and white shirt--

With a topless, red haired woman on her knees by him.

Heeee thixo. You know what.

It only takes a second for me to get over the shock but it feels like a whole lifetime when our eyes meet as I quickly turn away.

Besides what the fuck, the only other thing I'm thinking is thank my lord it's not Brie. I've been having nightmares about catching them together because I just know that I won't react professionally like I just did right now.

Wait, so he's really not dating Brie then?

None of my business either way.

Let me focus on my work, I start the with the guest bedrooms today. Kind of messes up my routine but I'll live.

Sidenote though, does everyone get their dick sucked in the morning before work or is it just the uber rich? Or am I the only person in the world missing out?

I hope I still have a job though, it's not like I just barged in or anything. The door was open, I didn't even walk in. I just stopped and glanced for a second too long, he can't fire me for that. He must've known I was coming.

And I didn't walk in on anything really, his bits were in his pants while the woman with the big breatses that were still in a bra rubbed up on him. That's second base at best. I think.

Shit I still have to ask for at least a half day on Wednesday meaning I have to face him after all that.

When I'm done with the guest bedrooms, I actively seek him out. I'm the one looking for conversation from him even though I swore to myself that I'd keep my head down and get my money in silence. Life clearly doesn't give a shit about my plans.

I find him in the kitchen. Alone, thank god. And I don't know, him like this takes me back to when I first saw him. He seems to have this force field around him that I don't understand and why is he so tall?

"What can I do you for?" That voice. All deep and dry.

Here goes nothing...

"I, uh.. I was wondering who I talk to regarding maybe coming in later on Wednesday..."

He's not looking at me, just scrolling down his iPad and drinking coffee out of my sink mug, "You'll still be here then?"

"I should hope so," Not what I meant to say.

He stops his scrolling and focuses his whiskey coloured eyes on me, "And if I say no, I'm the racist right?"

Oh so I hit a nerve then? My bad. Not really. I don't care. I need a clear answer about Wednesday.

"No, not a racist," An asshole for not asking for a reason but not a racist. I've been an exemplary employee, I mean granted I was an unknown employee before but that's not on me.

He sets the mug down and leans his long body against the counter top. I can't help but glance at the length of him, this one definitely played rugby in high school.

"Fine," He sighs disinterestedly.

Wait, what?

I feel a weight immediately lifted off my shoulders.

"And you'll do something for me..." He pushes back the mop of black hair that's just flopped on his forehead.

Oh fuck me. As if I don't have enough to deal with.

"I'm not a hooker."

"Yeah, you made that quite clear..."

The woman from bedroom comes in and goes straight to him while my eyes widen a bit-- I forgot all about her, I thought she left.

She saunters over to him, tits bouncing and hips swaying, and doesn't spare me a glance. And why would she? I'm the help, we only exist when needed.

They kiss a kiss that only lasts a couple of seconds but it's enough to make this whole situation a bit more uncomfortable.

He buries his hand in her mass of curly red hair and pulls her back some, "I'll call you," His tone is as cold as always.

The redhead runs a finger down his chest, "Okay lover," She says huskily and plants one more kiss on his lips before they part.

But that's right when I decide to turn to leave...

And just then I hear him call out a, "Wait!"

I stop and turn on instinct.

For all I know he wasn't even talking to me, chances are he was probably talking to the redhead.

"Yes?" She turns as well and even I hear the desperate hope dripping off her voice.

"Not you Bess," He says, watching me.

Then we both wait for her to leave and this time she does give me a quick glance before turning away.

"I'll be back in an hour..." He says taking his phone out of his pocket, a sleek thing more than my entire net worth, "I thought I told Zayn to tell you to stop wearing that," He scowls at my uniform.

"Oh no, he did but I prefer it. Keeps my clothes fresher longer."

"Yeah still, be in something else when I get back," He walks away.

Uh...

"Is he okay? Zayn? I haven't heard from him in a while, " I don't know why I call out to his retreating back, I don't ever want to talk to him any longer than I have to.

He stops and turns back to me with a dark look, "If anything had happened to him, you and I would be having a very different and very final conversation."

Wow? It's really like that huh?

I don't say anything further, just let him leave and get back to my own tasks trying to wrap the events of the last fifteen minutes around my head---

From his bedroom, the guestroom and all this in the kitchen... it's only been fifteen minutes and I have to wait for an hour for him?