The Wall

13

Moses ran along the wall, behind which he heard the splashing of the Nahoon. And random voices. I’d give anything to be on the other side of the wall, he thought. The voices were behind him, too. That had to be the referee and the fake security guy.

Moses had the greatest respect for them. He’d seen enough white losers take their frustration out on the homeless or shoplifters. He paused and looked back. They were still there. He was faster than both of them. That was his advantage. Theirs was that they knew this neighborhood. And there were two of them.

Although… he thought. They hadn’t exactly exploited this advantage, otherwise they wouldn’t just be chasing him together. Moses curved back to the street which ran a few more meters parallel to the wall and then doubled-back in the direction he’d just run from. He could still hear the voices of the two whites in the distance. He assumed the exterior gate should have a light sensor that would automatically open it if anyone got close. So, get out, that and only that. And then disappear. His car was locked. Main goal—to get out of here and find safety.

He was just passing the street where he’d caught sight of the camera when he noticed a car driving toward him. He was still far away from it, but he could tell that it belonged to a security company. Blue and silver. Moses spun around and sprinted down the street with the camera. The gardener was standing with his back toward him and was still—or once again—mowing the lawn. As he dashed by him, he turned around, and for a quick moment, their eyes met.

What was that? Did the gardener want to tell him something? Moses didn’t have time. He ran around the next corner, caught sight of a house with lowered sliding shutters, and headed toward it. A large garbage can sat between the wall along the property boundary and the house. He hid behind it.