But worst of all, Wesley was Nazneen’s ex-boyfriend.
“Relax, Captain,” Kyle said. “They’re just talking. It’s innocent. I’m sure it is.”
But Captain did not seem to hear his cousin’s words. His eyes swelled with anger and his knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists at his side.
Spider tried to say something, but it was too late. Captain was off, moving with purpose and aggression.
Kyle and Jimmy hurried after him. “Cap,” Kyle said, softly so as not to cause a scene. “Relax. Don’t do this.”
Captain ignored his words. His feet thundered on the cement path. His lips moved as he spoke to himself, cursed to himself.
Wesley looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of the impending doom and pain. To Kyle’s relief he turned and hurried off.
Nazneen turned around, confused. “Anthony? What’s going on?”
“You tell me!” he said in a harsh whisper and with a glare.
“What are you on about?” Nazneen glared back. Her fair skin had turned even whiter, which made the freckles that peppered her nose and cheeks stand out even more.
Kyle saw Captain’s fists unclench and the tension leave his shoulders. “We need to talk,” he said in an uneven voice. Nazneen nodded and the two of them disappeared up the stairs and into a Grade 9 prefab classroom.
Kyle sighed with relief. He patted Jimmy on the shoulder and the two of them returned to the group.
“Bru, was it really necessary for Captain to get so pissed off?” Kyle looked at the others.
Spider shook his head slowly. “Actually, Kyle, the answer is yes, outie. Captain has a reputation he must maintain. Especially now that Tyson is around again. We all do. Everyone knows Wesley is a ladies’ man. For him to be seen talking to Nazneen in front of everyone, in front of Cap, is a bit of an insult. Everyone knows they were an item.”
“Come on, man, that’s bullshit,” Kyle said. “They broke up years ago.”
“True,” Spider agreed, slowly. “I know she wouldn’t do anything like that … But Captain cannot be seen as weak. If he is seen as weak, then the whole crew is seen as weak. Ripe to be picked off by Tyson and the NBKs. It’s a fucked-up time now, bru. We need to make sure we keep our strength.”
Kyle looked at Spider. Maybe this made sense to the Godfathers, but it made absolutely none to him. Still, he wasn’t going to pursue the matter. He just let the talk of the others flow around him.
After about ten minutes, Captain and Nazneen came out of the classroom. He had his arm wrapped around her shoulders, but the look on his face was grave. He was as white as a sheet. And it looked as if Nazneen had been crying. Captain kissed her on the forehead and gave her a hug before she hurried away and he came back to the group.
Kyle could see he was worried – he rubbed his forehead the way he always did when he was stressed.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Captain appeared not to have heard him, so Kyle tried again. “Cap, what happened?”
Captain’s eyes snapped wider with the surprise of someone who had been shaken from a daydream. He stared at Kyle.
“Nothing. Nothing,” he finally replied softly.
But Kyle knew he was lying. He could see the concern floating just beneath the surface on Captain’s face, but he didn’t pry. Captain would tell him when he wanted him to know. When he was ready.
9
“Sparksport!” Kyle called out the name of his stop to the taxi driver, who somehow managed to hear him over the rib-vibrating bass. The sound system of the minibus was making its tinted windows shudder and its panels rattle. Kyle exited the kombi outside the large pharmacy, a landmark in Sydenham, its blue-and-green neon sign flickering to a rhythm of its own. Like every Friday evening, Sydenham was abuzz with activity. The pavements were crowded with devotees of Islam leaving the nearby mosque. Across the road, a group of young men stood and plotted their activities for the evening. Last-minute supplies of brandy, whiskey and beer were being bought from the liquor stores before they closed for the evening and people had to resort to the shebeens with their inflated prices. The night was alive with the sounds of cars speeding by with thumping music and pedestrians chattering loudly. The hubbub annoyed Kyle. He felt as if his night was being invaded by these intruders. Their laughing and monkey chatter was robbing him of his seclusion.
He gritted his teeth, rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt and began walking up Sparks Road to Carmen’s house. As he did so, he unbuttoned the shirt and let it flow open. Underneath it he was wearing a crisp white T-shirt. This was his waiter’s uniform – white shirt and blue jeans. Nothing flashy. Simple – like he was. Normal – like he hoped he could one day be.
He glanced at his watch and saw that it was just after ten. He crossed over Barnes Road and turned up into Jarvis Road. Had he been a gambler, he would have confidently placed a bet on what the scene would be like at the party. And as he approached Carmen’s house, he knew he would have had a winner. The music was making the windows of the house pulsate. On the street, small groups of people were milling about, some swaying rhythmically to the music. Others were passing around quarts of Black Label beer. Kyle saw Captain’s blue Toyota Conquest parked on the street.
This was not the type of scene he liked, and he was tempted to turn tail. But he resisted the urge. He had promised Jimmy that he would come by, even if he stayed for only five minutes. So he made his way down the concrete stairs to the front door, greeting a few people he knew by sight with a flick of his head. He could feel the eyes of those who did not know him burn into his back and knew what they must be thinking. Who is this cake here? What does he want? Is he an outie or a skybird? He walked into the lounge and squinted slightly as his eyes tried to adjust to the glaringly bright light. The lounge alone could have accommodated Aunt May’s entire house. It was huge. Carmen’s father was a minister, and Kyle guessed Jesus was a pretty good boss to have: he clearly paid well.
His eyes swept across the room, searching for familiar faces, and he spotted Jimmy and Captain standing in the open-plan kitchen with the other Godfathers. He made his way through the sea of gyrating bodies on the dance floor and past the counter that separated the lounge from the silver-and-black kitchen.
“Damn, bru!” Captain exclaimed, grabbing his cousin’s hand in a half handshake, half hug. “I honestly didn’t think you were coming.”
“I guess I’m just full of surprises,” Kyle smiled back.
Captain was marginally drunk, and he offered Kyle a choice of brandy or beer. Kyle declined both. He did not drink, as liquor would only hinder him from achieving his goal of being a professional footballer. And he would achieve this goal by any means. If that meant being anti-social and not drinking, then so be it.
After a few minutes of light banter and greetings with the other Godfathers, he drifted away from the main circle of conversation to lean against the kitchen counter next to Jimmy. His eyes danced over the name brands on display and he smiled wryly. Nikes, Levis, Fubu, even Ray-Ban – jeez, sunglasses at night. People were willing to spend all the money they had in order to buy a pair of tackies just to hang out in, instead of a loaf of bread for the family. As far as he was concerned, a shoe was a shoe. To his mind, whether your tackies cost R100 or R500, they did the same damn job. He leaned closer to Jimmy.
“The girl’s going to think you’re a stalker!”
Jimmy squeezed his eyes shut. “I know, but I just can’t help it, Kyle. She’s so damn gorgeous.” He lisped.
Kyle had to agree with him. Sarah was beautiful, especially that evening. She was elegantly