Lakeside, shuddering when we stopped at robots, but jeez, as soon as we turned onto the M3 and got some open road to play with, Dewald fucking gunned the thing
And the car felt good going fast—it felt great, it felt on the verge of lifting off and I didn’t care if it did, I dared it to. Charlotte had her head out the window and she was shouting at the other cars when we flew past them. Dewald put the music on and the system he had rigged up in there was so loud it made my ribs buzz.
I still couldn’t tell if getting high had been a good idea or not—I’d kind of go through waves. I’d stare at Dewald, and I’d see a completely new person behind the wheel and I’d be feeling wonderful
But then he’d scratch his nose or light a cigarette or something and I’d remember TJ so clearly it was sickening. At one point, he reached back over his shoulder and handed me a capsule, and the way he winked when I took it, I swear, there were voices in my head shouting,
He knows! He knows!
And I had to lie down on the back seat and try pull myself together.
I could hardly breathe, thinking,
He’s haunting you, Ed.
He’s always been haunting you.
This thing with TJ happened when I was eighteen and I was still living in Grahamstown. I’d finished school but I was doing nothing with myself—really, nothing. My dad had stopped bothering with solid food by that point and I was the only person in the whole world who knew how fucked he was. I didn’t tell my friends about it, even when I started seeing them less and less and they kept asking me why. My dad had also lost all his friends by then—the one stalwart, Willie, still used to come round sometimes, but his jam was to siphon petrol out my dad’s tank and then sit in the lounge all afternoon huffing it from a paint tin.
I’d really wanted to go to varsity. The money my mom had left me in the trust—I got it when I turned eighteen—would’ve covered the fees but then it would’ve been wiped out, and I guess I was scared of seeing it all go so fast. I knew I should’ve at least made a hobby out of sorting my dad out, but I couldn’t, not back then I couldn’t. Right before all this happened with TJ, honest to god, the plan really was to pull myself together and get a job, then pack my dad off somewhere decent and go to varsity the next year. I was always meant to actually do something with myself, I promise. This was just the first time I got derailed …
My thoughts spun off like that—I was thinking about my dad some more
But then I felt the car brake sharply, and I sat up.
I could see lots of flashing lights outside the windows.
“What’s going on?” I said.
“Relax,” said Dewald. “Red lights. Bad news vir iemand, maar nie vir ons nie.”
When we got to town whatever was in that capsule had put a flying feeling in me
And Charlotte had her face up against her window, her hands also on the glass—she was somewhere else entirely
And it must’ve been payday or something because the city was seething. While we were stopped at a robot the music went softer, and then we inched our way down one of the side roads towards Long Street, bar lights shining into the car, so many people out on the street, all of them dressed up and lurid like figures out of oil paintings. We made the turn and more faces swung past the window, Charlotte laughed, and then Dewald double-parked the car and put the emergencies on. I opened my door and I spilled out into the street, a car went by, I could feel the heat off its bonnet, I closed my door and opened the passenger side and I helped Charlotte out into the middle of all that bright noise …
Mostly they spoke together in Afrikaans, and I could follow them, sort of, but I didn’t really want to talk in case they teased my accent, and so I went out onto the balcony and smoked a joint with a Portuguese guy who told me the reason that town was so nuts was because it’d just been announced we were getting the World Cup
And the car felt good going fast—it felt great, it felt on the verge of lifting off and I didn’t care if it did, I dared it to. Charlotte had her head out the window and she was shouting at the other cars when we flew past them. Dewald put the music on and the system he had rigged up in there was so loud it made my ribs buzz.
I still couldn’t tell if getting high had been a good idea or not—I’d kind of go through waves. I’d stare at Dewald, and I’d see a completely new person behind the wheel and I’d be feeling wonderful
But then he’d scratch his nose or light a cigarette or something and I’d remember TJ so clearly it was sickening. At one point, he reached back over his shoulder and handed me a capsule, and the way he winked when I took it, I swear, there were voices in my head shouting,
He knows! He knows!
And I had to lie down on the back seat and try pull myself together.
I could hardly breathe, thinking,
He’s haunting you, Ed.
He’s always been haunting you.
This thing with TJ happened when I was eighteen and I was still living in Grahamstown. I’d finished school but I was doing nothing with myself—really, nothing. My dad had stopped bothering with solid food by that point and I was the only person in the whole world who knew how fucked he was. I didn’t tell my friends about it, even when I started seeing them less and less and they kept asking me why. My dad had also lost all his friends by then—the one stalwart, Willie, still used to come round sometimes, but his jam was to siphon petrol out my dad’s tank and then sit in the lounge all afternoon huffing it from a paint tin.
I’d really wanted to go to varsity. The money my mom had left me in the trust—I got it when I turned eighteen—would’ve covered the fees but then it would’ve been wiped out, and I guess I was scared of seeing it all go so fast. I knew I should’ve at least made a hobby out of sorting my dad out, but I couldn’t, not back then I couldn’t. Right before all this happened with TJ, honest to god, the plan really was to pull myself together and get a job, then pack my dad off somewhere decent and go to varsity the next year. I was always meant to actually do something with myself, I promise. This was just the first time I got derailed …
My thoughts spun off like that—I was thinking about my dad some more
But then I felt the car brake sharply, and I sat up.
I could see lots of flashing lights outside the windows.
“What’s going on?” I said.
“Relax,” said Dewald. “Red lights. Bad news vir iemand, maar nie vir ons nie.”
When we got to town whatever was in that capsule had put a flying feeling in me
And Charlotte had her face up against her window, her hands also on the glass—she was somewhere else entirely
And it must’ve been payday or something because the city was seething. While we were stopped at a robot the music went softer, and then we inched our way down one of the side roads towards Long Street, bar lights shining into the car, so many people out on the street, all of them dressed up and lurid like figures out of oil paintings. We made the turn and more faces swung past the window, Charlotte laughed, and then Dewald double-parked the car and put the emergencies on. I opened my door and I spilled out into the street, a car went by, I could feel the heat off its bonnet, I closed my door and opened the passenger side and I helped Charlotte out into the middle of all that bright noise …
Mostly they spoke together in Afrikaans, and I could follow them, sort of, but I didn’t really want to talk in case they teased my accent, and so I went out onto the balcony and smoked a joint with a Portuguese guy who told me the reason that town was so nuts was because it’d just been announced we were getting the World Cup
Similar Books
