It Takes Two

Description

FunDza celebrates young writers. Between June and December 2013, five of South Africa�s best authors teamed up with five talented young writers to bring you this anthology of fast-paced, exciting short stories. From romance and heartache, to mystery and crime, these stories have something thrilling for every reader.

Sujets

• Romance
• Young Adult

Informations

• Publié par: Cover2Cover Books
• Date de parution: 04 avril 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 1
• EAN13: 9780992201890
• Langue: English

Extrait

Contents
1 Among the stars – Part 1
Jean-Paul Willemse
2 Among the stars – Part 2
Maire Fisher
3 The red necklace
Mzimkhulu Mackenzie
4 Sister trouble
Helen Brain
5 Truth or dare
Zikhona Gwadiso
6 Second time lucky
Michelle Faure
7 Damage
Sonwabiso Ngcowa
8 Free at last!
Asavela Peko
9 Torn Apart
Phoebe Sibomana
10 Payback
Joanne Hichens
Author Photos
Mentoring our future writers

1
AMONG THE STARS – PART 1
Jean-Paul Willemse
Peter Cho strolled down an empty street. He found comfort in the solitude. Recently his life had been an endless barrage of questions, decisions he could not make.
“But with results like yours, you could do anything, son.” His father’s puzzled face. “What about astrophysics? Your teachers, they all say …”
“Leave the boy alone.” His mother’s worried voice.
His friends hounded him about girls. “Why don’t you get a girlfriend, man? You’re always so alone. Some female action will do you good.” Philip was always concerned with girls, Peter wasn’t. All the girls he met were too interested in the Kardashians or who won Idols . Peter was indifferent to their pitiful attempts at being cool. They were pathetic sheep and their bleating was too loud.
He needed to be somewhere quiet, away from everything. The ad in the local newspaper had been a godsend. So here he was, in Mitchells Plain, house-sitting for some bored couple who had decided to get away from the charms of suburban bliss. And it was bliss. The house was fully equipped for a teenager who had just finished school. It had motorised gates, heated flooring and an ice-maker in the fridge for lonely nightcaps.
Peter wandered aimlessly, his shoulders hunched, trying to ignore the cold wind knifing through his thin hoodie. ‘Mind over body.’ That’s what the years at the dojo had taught him, and patience, and vigilance. Scoring eight As for Matric, and learning ju-jitsu, were the only parts of his high-school career he’d really enjoyed. When it came to the other stuff, the more he learned, the more pointless it all seemed. And now that his secondary education was completed, he floated in limbo. Above him were the expectations of his parents, and below was his faith, slowly dwindling as he realised the vast emptiness of the universe. His cynicism stretched to all aspects of his life.
Sound suddenly jangled on the night air. His cellphone.
“Hello.”
“Hello, Peter. It’s Mr Wilson. Any trouble so far?”
“No. Everything is fine. You have a wonderful home.”
“Oh, yes. Thank you. Just to remind you of the ground rules: no friends in the house and no using the telephone. But I’m sure you have plenty of airtime?”
“Yes, Mr Wilson.”
“Another thing. If you need any help, call our neighbour, Mrs Pryce. She has also agreed to check in every few days.”
“OK, thanks Mr Wilson. Enjoy your holiday.”
Peter checked his airtime and slid his phone into his pocket. A new reason to hate his life. No airtime for the next week. He did not want to ask his parents for money. They’d give it to him, but he’d be made to feel guilty. He had to find a job, he knew that. Something to keep him occupied while he did some soul-searching. But as far as he could tell his soul was somewhere hidden among the stars. He looked up, but he could only see clouds, shrouding the full moon.
Just ahead of him a small park spanned the block. Two lonely swings and a slide. It was a depressing sight for anyone older than five. He crossed through it, remembering the name of the road it was on. He didn’t want to get lost on his first night in the area. The frost on the grass crunched under his feet. As he stepped onto the blackness of the tar road, a flash of movement caught his eye. A figure was running towards him.
Whoever it was ran with a rhythm tuned to desperation. Peter watched as the runner came closer. His breath quickened, sending small puffs of vapour into the freezing air. The figure was a few metres away. A girl. She was beautiful, but filthy. Her feet were bare, her jeans were torn and her hair was a mess.
Peter measured up the girl. She looked like trouble. He didn’t know what to do. “What if she’s luring me into some kind of trap?” he thought. He took her measure again once she was up close, looked in her eyes and noticed how scared she looked. He shrugged off his suspicions. This girl needed his help.
Peter struggled for words, squeezed a few out: “Are you OK?”
~•~
The clouds cleared and the moon shone out. The wind died down and the harsh sound of the girl’s breathing echoed through the night. She was probably trouble, but Peter couldn’t leave her here. He might be indifferent to annoying ‘sheep’ girls, but he couldn’t ignore a girl who was obviously hurt.
Peter looked at her closely. Her jeans were slashed at the sides as if she had climbed out of a broken window. She looked like she hadn’t washed for a while and her eyes were wild, like an animal that wasn’t used to human interaction. “What’s the matter?”
“I need your help.” Her voice was ragged and it seemed as if she was going to pass out at any minute.
“Ja, but what happened? Are you hurt? Is someone chasing you?”
“I … I don’t know.” She looked over her shoulder, then back at him, her eyes glistening. “I escaped. I don’t think he knows I’m gone.”
“He? What are you talking about? Who did this to you?”
“We need to get out of this street. Quickly. Before he knows I’m gone.”
The girl grabbed Peter by the arm and shoved him back across the road into the park. Her grip was strong. She had a drive that only fear could inspire.
“Wait!” Peter said as the girl speeded up. He stopped and turned her towards him.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”
“He kidnapped me. We need to get somewhere safe. Now!”
“OK, OK.” Peter lowered his voice, the way he did when his dog was freaked out by thunder. “Take it easy. Calm down. What’s your name?”
“Melissa.”
“Good. I’m Peter. Look, I’ll take you to my place. You’ll be safe there.”
“Thanks, Peter. Come on – quickly.”
They walked at a brisk pace towards the Wilson residence. The longer they walked the more doubtful Peter grew. Melissa looked traumatised and he had no doubt that she had gone through something, but he needed details.
“How did you escape?” he asked.
She stopped walking and looked at him anxiously. Her face was grey with fear. “Please. We don’t have time for this!”
“Yes we do. I’m trying to help you. I need to know what happened.”
“I got away. That’s all that matters right now.”
Tears were running down her cheeks, streaking them silver in the moonlight. Any further prodding and this chick was going to go mental. “OK, let’s just get to the house.” He motioned for her to continue walking.
They hurried on silently until they reached a street named Crowley. Melissa gasped as she saw the street sign and walked even faster. Peter had to jog to keep up.
“Do you know this place?” he said breathlessly.
“I … I … don’t know. There’s something … Let’s just get through here quickly.”
Peter wondered what time it was. It was really cold now, one of those icy, crisp, Cape Town winter nights. There might even be snow on the Hottentots Holland mountains in the morning. But for now, they had a warm house waiting for them. It would be even warmer when he figured out how the heating system worked. They entered and Peter immediately went to the thermostat and fiddled with the knobs.
“That should work,” he said.
Melissa lingered in the doorway.
“You must be freezing,” Peter waved her in. “Come, sit down.”
She chose to sit on the couch closest to the door.
Peter rubbed his hands together and checked the thermostat again. “Maybe there’s another control,” he muttered, looking at the dial.
Melissa rubbed one grimy foot over the other and shivered.
“Are you still cold?” Peter asked.
She started at the sound of his voice. “No. Just scared. He’s out there. I know it.”
“Would you like something to drink?”
“No.”
“OK. Well, the best thing to do now is to call the police.”
“No!” she yelled. Her earlier desperation was back.
Peter didn’t want to spook her any further. “Fine, we’ll just talk.”
~•~
Peter sat on the couch. Melisa’s outburst made him feel uneasy. He smiled nervously. “Are you sure you don’t need anything?” he asked.
“No, it’s … I’m fine. Thanks for helping me.”
“I didn’t do much. You practically dragged me along with you.”
“Yes, but you listened. You believed me …” Melissa’s voice faded into a whisper.
“Hey, tell me something about yourself,” Peter tried to chang