The Wall

27

If only he could remember Sandi’s number. The one for the new phone she’d had to get after her old one was stolen on the bus taxi. He’d saved the number on his own phone and then… forgotten it.

Remember. You see her number every time you send her a text. Visualize the number. “082,” he muttered to himself. It begins with 0, 8 and 2. Obviously. But then…

Remember. You see this number every day. 082, then… two of the numbers were doubles. That was over half the battle in terms of the seven digits he still needed.

But what could Sandi actually do? Call the police? Surely the others had already done that. The double numbers. Come on! If worse came to worse, Sandi would see him being taken away. And maybe she wouldn’t come alone. Witnesses were always good.

Two sevens, and two… two nines. The first pair early in the number. 082, then a 4, then the two 7s. 082-477. The two nines were close to the end. Right?

Or right at the end. That’s it. 082-477, then two other numbers followed by the two nines. The old man who’d just shown up began to gesture wildly. He pointed at the little dog, an ugly creature with what looked like a hairbrush at the end of its tail.

Odd numbers. That was it. He had noticed that most of the numbers were odd at some point when he’d been sending a text. Other odd numbers appeared between the sevens and the nines. What was left? A one? No. Three and five? Or five and three?

Moses took a guess. 082-477-3599. Dial tone. Ringing. Waiting. “Hello?” shouted a man’s voice. He hung up.

082-477-5399. Another dial tone. Ringing. Waiting.

“Hey!” Sandi said.

“It’s me.”

“What’s up? Why aren’t you coming? Why is your phone dead?”

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean… you can’t?”

“I’m stuck.”

Moses told her the story from the moment the car rolled to a stop. About Khanyo, about the classmate whose name he couldn’t remember, about the referee and the white man with the club, and about running away.

“And where are you now?” Sandi asked after he stopped talking.

“In a house.”

“Whose house?”

Moses considered what he could possibly say. Before he could reply, Sandi continued: “You broke in?”

“The window was open.”

“Shit. What should I do?”

“I don’t know.”

“The police.”

“No police.”

“Well, sure, but what then? Where are you exactly?”

“Between Abbotsford and Dorchester Heights.”

“That’s the middle of nowhere.”

“That’s suburbia. It’s called The Pines. White people live here, lots of them.”

“That much I know. Should I come there?”

“And then what?” Moses asked.

“Where’s the house located?”

“No idea. I just ran.”

“I’ll bring along everyone we know!”

“That’s good. Don’t leave me here alone!”

“Absolutely not,” Sandi agreed. “No way!”

“I love you,” Moses said.

“I love you back. Come to the entrance.” With that, Sandi hung up.

Something had happened wherever the old man had come from. Moses wondered if he had trampled through his garden, too. Had he crunched his hedge? Tipped over a garden chair? The man rubbed his face, then did it again. The white guy with the club patted his arm and pulled a package of tissues out of his pocket. Handed the man one. He was clearly crying. Shaking her head, the woman who had seen him fall was saying something to the old man.

Because of the hedge? Not hardly. Maybe this was his chance, Moses thought. While the others were busy with whatever had happened to the old man, he could escape out back. He walked over to the terrace door and looked through the pane. Straight along the wall as fast as possible. At some point, he had to reach the gate and then freedom. He was about to turn the key in the glass door and open it, when it occurred to him that he might set off an alarm. Some doors and windows were part of the security system, and an alarm would go off if you opened them. That’s exactly what he didn’t need.

Moses returned to the child’s room and opened the window. That hadn’t caused any problems earlier and wouldn’t now either.

He cautiously stuck his head out, looking right and left. Nothing. He slowly lowered himself through the window until he was back on the terrace. He then kept running in the direction he’d been going. Less panicked. Calmer. He knew what he wanted. He had to somehow reach the exit. And Sandi had to come up with a plan.