The Wall

45

Moses cowered behind the wall. Half on the trash bag, half off. A dead bird was lying next to his head. Dark with a streak of red. Ants had already begun blazing a trail to start the evisceration process. Just lie here for a bit, he thought. Had the nanny warned him? Black solidarity?

Maybe that’s what it was. A few black families had to be living in here. Somewhere he was bound to be able to get help. He recalled the Kaizer Chiefs banner in the window. That had been ages ago. He looked at his watch. 2:06.

“Is he over here?” Moses heard a voice. That was the white guy with the club.

“No, boss!” The nanny.

“If you see him… let me know!”

“Yes, boss!” She was actually helping him. Good woman. A motor. Brakes.

“He isn’t here.” The white guy. On the street right in front of him.

“He tried to rape a woman!” What?

A black voice. Masculine. “Hurt a whole bunch of people. He’s dangerous! And broke into an old man’s house.”

Moses listened as the white man struck his hand with his club. “I’m ready for him!” The car drove off.

Were they really talking about me? Moses wondered.

Nothing happened for a few seconds. Then a shadow over him. The white guy was sitting on the wall, his ass directly above him. Not even ten centimeters away.

Moses heard the click of a lighter. The white man was smoking. He also wanted to smoke.

“Oh,” said the nanny in a strangely artificial tone. “The ball’s gone now.” Short pause. “Who’s going to get the ball for us?”

The shadow above him evaporated. A ball was kicked.

“Look,” she said. “Isn’t that a nice man?”

What a smart woman, Moses thought, taking a deep breath.