stratus clouds heralded the first cold front of May. In the winter-empty trees that lined Erasmus Street, Ring-necked Doves called to each other while in the distance an impatient driver leaned heavily on a car horn. Besides that, there were no other sounds in the southern residential sector of Hope. And an eerie quiet hung over the suburb that lay immediately to the south of the Hope Primary and Secondary School.
But Kobus could not have been less concerned about the curious quiet. He ambled slowly down the dusty backstreet of Hope. His Grade-six school satchel slung over his shoulder with measured carelessness. He was, after all, the man.
Well...
He stopped and pulled a handful of Chappies from his pocket. And ripping the wrappers from the cheap bubblegum he stuffed a few in his mouth. He may have been sporting some serious attitude. But mom was mom. And she would not appreciate the smell of cigarette smoke on her eleven-year old boy. Satisfied that this final anti-mom counter-measure would kill the last traces of the Chesterfield, Kobus resumed his leisurely swagger. Chomping hard on the impossibly large wad of chewing gum in his mouth.
Immediately his mind wandered back to his favourite topic. Marietjie Delport. Aaaah . Marietjie. Despite his stuffed mouth, Kobus managed a dreamy smile. Marietjie was like, the coolest girl in the world. Ever.
Hell yeah.
Kobus kicked a rock lying in the dusty dirt road and watched it skitter into someone’s backyard with great satisfaction. Yeah. Marietjie was like ice cream on a hot day. No wait. She was like ice cream on a hot day. With a tot of rum. Yes. Yes! Kobus smiled at his metaphor. Yes. Marietjie was exactly like ice cream with a tot of rum. Or whatever alcohol it was that went well with ice cream.
After all, wasn’t she the one who was teaching Kobus how to smoke?
Hell yeah.
Kobus repeated the phrase to himself. Hell yeah. He wasn’t sure exactly what it meant. But it conjured up images of gangsters in big sprawling American cities, driving big ‘ole Cadillacs or whatever they drove while listening to rap music and pulling out gats on people. Like so much else from the last few weeks, it was a phrase that Marietjie had taught him. She had learnt it from (where else?) American movies. The kind of movies Kobus’s mom would never let him watch in like, a million years. But Marietjie’s mom let her watch whatever she wanted. And let her stay up ‘till whatever time she wanted. Marietjie said her mom didn’t care what she did. As long as Marietjie didn’t bother her and her boyfriends.
Wow. Marietjie’s mom was so cool. Kobus wished his own mom was more like her.
In the distance, Kobus could see the corner of their house. Suddenly, with the prospect of seeing his mother, he became less sure of himself. For good measure, he stuffed another two Chappies into his mouth. And smelled his school shirt.
Blikskottel . That was the thing he really loved about Marietjie. She always made him feel like a man. Not like a stupid little Grade-six boy. And so what if the other kids in class thought Marietjie was a bad girl. Kobus knew that none of the girls wanted to be her friend. And he knew what they whispered behind her back. He didn’t care. No ways. And so what if Jannie Beukes said she had lifted her skirt and showed him her thing behind the woodwork class. No, sir. He didn’t care. In fact, he would be proud if Marietjie showed him her thing.
Hell yeah!
Kobus thought Marietjie was super cool. She was like ... wise. Like a grown-up in the body of a twelve-year old. (She had failed Grade-six last year). And she was funny. Oh yeah. Marietjie was so funny. Even funnier than Gert Fritzburger who made milk come out of his nostrils. Hahaha. Yeah. Marietjie was really funny. In like, a clever adult way.
If Kobus hadn’t been so caught up in his thoughts he would have seen a dirty car with tinted windows come to a stop a few metres behind him.
But instead Kobus thought
But Kobus could not have been less concerned about the curious quiet. He ambled slowly down the dusty backstreet of Hope. His Grade-six school satchel slung over his shoulder with measured carelessness. He was, after all, the man.
Well...
He stopped and pulled a handful of Chappies from his pocket. And ripping the wrappers from the cheap bubblegum he stuffed a few in his mouth. He may have been sporting some serious attitude. But mom was mom. And she would not appreciate the smell of cigarette smoke on her eleven-year old boy. Satisfied that this final anti-mom counter-measure would kill the last traces of the Chesterfield, Kobus resumed his leisurely swagger. Chomping hard on the impossibly large wad of chewing gum in his mouth.
Immediately his mind wandered back to his favourite topic. Marietjie Delport. Aaaah . Marietjie. Despite his stuffed mouth, Kobus managed a dreamy smile. Marietjie was like, the coolest girl in the world. Ever.
Hell yeah.
Kobus kicked a rock lying in the dusty dirt road and watched it skitter into someone’s backyard with great satisfaction. Yeah. Marietjie was like ice cream on a hot day. No wait. She was like ice cream on a hot day. With a tot of rum. Yes. Yes! Kobus smiled at his metaphor. Yes. Marietjie was exactly like ice cream with a tot of rum. Or whatever alcohol it was that went well with ice cream.
After all, wasn’t she the one who was teaching Kobus how to smoke?
Hell yeah.
Kobus repeated the phrase to himself. Hell yeah. He wasn’t sure exactly what it meant. But it conjured up images of gangsters in big sprawling American cities, driving big ‘ole Cadillacs or whatever they drove while listening to rap music and pulling out gats on people. Like so much else from the last few weeks, it was a phrase that Marietjie had taught him. She had learnt it from (where else?) American movies. The kind of movies Kobus’s mom would never let him watch in like, a million years. But Marietjie’s mom let her watch whatever she wanted. And let her stay up ‘till whatever time she wanted. Marietjie said her mom didn’t care what she did. As long as Marietjie didn’t bother her and her boyfriends.
Wow. Marietjie’s mom was so cool. Kobus wished his own mom was more like her.
In the distance, Kobus could see the corner of their house. Suddenly, with the prospect of seeing his mother, he became less sure of himself. For good measure, he stuffed another two Chappies into his mouth. And smelled his school shirt.
Blikskottel . That was the thing he really loved about Marietjie. She always made him feel like a man. Not like a stupid little Grade-six boy. And so what if the other kids in class thought Marietjie was a bad girl. Kobus knew that none of the girls wanted to be her friend. And he knew what they whispered behind her back. He didn’t care. No ways. And so what if Jannie Beukes said she had lifted her skirt and showed him her thing behind the woodwork class. No, sir. He didn’t care. In fact, he would be proud if Marietjie showed him her thing.
Hell yeah!
Kobus thought Marietjie was super cool. She was like ... wise. Like a grown-up in the body of a twelve-year old. (She had failed Grade-six last year). And she was funny. Oh yeah. Marietjie was so funny. Even funnier than Gert Fritzburger who made milk come out of his nostrils. Hahaha. Yeah. Marietjie was really funny. In like, a clever adult way.
If Kobus hadn’t been so caught up in his thoughts he would have seen a dirty car with tinted windows come to a stop a few metres behind him.
But instead Kobus thought
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