Hope you are enjoying the good days and fun-filled nights. It's Saturday again and I am having fun with all the writing, the kids (I think so), the dogs and home maintenance.
This week I will share a short story with you. This story is called a Dark Night, it's a story about drugs. The drug lords. The innocent. How drugs can affect your life and how the innocent people are traumatized by the abuse of drugs.
I wrote this story many years ago, and the story scene is in an actual suburb of Johannesburg, South Africa, and the drug lords to this day control that area. In reality, South Africa has a huge drug problem and this escalates every year. There does not seem to be a solution to this scary problem.
Hope you enjoy.
A DARK NIGHT
It was dark, Sam walked down the stairs, through the rotating glass doors. He stepped onto the pavement and looked at his watch. It was three thirty in the morning. Looking left then right, not a soul insight, pleased he crossed the road. Standing still, he looked up at the building across the road. It was all in darkness.
Briskly walking toward the taxi rank a few blocks down the road, he was happy this operation was complete. Several people were bustling around the busy terminal; he found a taxi ready to leave within fifteen minutes. Climbing in, he sat next to a huge woman. Not wanting to talk he nodded greeting her. The driver collected their fees and started the ignition. There was little traffic on the roads this time of the morning and the trip to Rosettenville was fast. Sam instructed the driver to stop at Verona Road. He descended and thanked him.
Still dark he walked toward Nandi's house. As always, the house was open. He walked into the lounge area and saw Nandi sleeping in a lazy boy chair, the lamp on the table next to him was still on. Approaching him, he tapped Nandi on the shoulder. Within a second Nandi, opened his eyes and pulled a gun out.
"Easy man, take it easy, it is me," Sam said stepping back
"You should not do that, it could be dangerous," Nandi said whilst putting the gun back into the holster.
Sam walked over to another chair and sat down.
"So, what happened?" enquired Nandi
"Operation exposure has been concluded without any hitches," Sam answered.
"Good, now we can carry on as before," Nandi, said lighting a cigarette, blowing the smoke into the air.
"What do you want me to do next?" Sam asked
"Chill man, chill for a few days, let the dust settle and we will check out something later on," He said
"Good, then I am going to get some shut eye," he said standing up and went down the dark corridor.
Sam took a set of keys out of his pocket and opened the third door down the passage. This was private space and he was not going to take chances leaving it open to the unscrupulous people entering this drug den. He locked the door behind him and collapsed on the bed.
Nandi walked outside, it was a warm morning, and the sun was starting to rise. He threw his cigarette butt into the overrun garden. Sitting on the veranda wall, he took out his phone and called Dube.
"Dube, Sam is back."
"Yea right what happened?" Dube asked.
"He said it is done."
"Check it out and make sure he is not talking nonsense," Dube said.
"Right, I'll make a plan," Nandi said.
"Good, keep me informed," he said and put the phone down.
Sitting on the porch, he lit another cigarette wondering if Sam indeed did carry out the operation as told. Two women, drunk, walked passed the house, laughing. He shook his head. A white youngster aged about 18 opened the derelict gate and walked up to him.
"Howdy Nandi, what's up?" Paul asked.
"Nothing much, what you doing here so early?" He asked.
"Need a hit, can you organize?"
"You got money? Nandi asked.
"No but check this out," Paul said, removing a gold chain with a gold and silver cross from his jacket pocket.
Nandi took the chain and inspected it. Looking at Paul, he said it is worth two hundred rand. Paul in desperate need of a fix agreed. Nandi went inside and within five minutes returned. He handed Paul a small packet. He took the crack, greeted Nandi and left. Nandi watched him walk down the road.
Dube, a big strapping man lived in an up market suburb. Nandi controlled the drug operation from the Rosettenville house. He trusted Nandi and his cronies. Business was good, they always paid up and he had no reason not to trust them. The money was tax-free; it bought him the best luxuries that money could buy for him and his family. His wife Leone loved the new life he had given her. She was not aware of his business dealing, always thought he was an executive for some huge company. Not one to question him, she left him alone when he said he was busy. She had enough to keep her busy, raising the two small girls and overseeing the house staff. Shopping, oh yes, how she loved shopping.
Nandi, a ruthless uncaring character, who would stop at nothing to secure the business, was Dube's right hand man; he ran the operation from Rosettenville and oversaw the Hillbrow one as well. He was loyal. He earned big bucks and he himself owned a mansion in an elite suburb. Although not married, he knew if he continued working for Dube another year or so he would be able to retire comfortably.
Sitting on the edge of the wall on the small porch smoking his cigarette, he watched the people move up and down the street, knowing that enticing the youngsters to use drugs was easy. No hard work was required. Emily a lady of the night, walked through the half broken gate and walked up to him
"Nandi, please help, I need a fix anything will do!" she pleaded.
"You know the drill, show me the money," he replied.
"I don’t have any now, but I promise I will give it to you tonight," in desperation she said.
"Nah girl, can't do, go find a client and then come back."
"I am desperate, look how I am shaking, please help me", she continued pleading.
"Get out and come back with the money then only will I give you a fix," he said. Standing up and edging her to leave.
She walked out the gate and shouted back to him, "you nasty piece of meat, I will get you yet!" sneering she went up the road.
Nandi sat there watching her walk away. Not at all concerned about her threat, he knew these types of people always angry when they could not get a fix. He went inside. Sam was sitting in the lounge watching TV. He sat down near him. The lounge was dark, broken curtains hanging up on a few clips, the walls in desperate need of paint, and the few chairs torn and broken. The only working item was the TV. He turned around to Sam and asked, "When do you expect to hear any news?"
Sam turned around to face him and said, "I don't know, I will phone my connection later and see if they found the body," and continued to watch TV.
Nandi, not really watching TV sat there staring at the set. He wondered how Sam had exactly committed the murder. He knew he was always careful and was sure that there would be no repercussions. He got up and told Sam he was going to sleep, he must watch the house.
Sam left the lounge and went outside. It was hot, with only a vest on he sat on the worn out wicker chair. He sat watching the people walking up and down the streets. He saw Emily standing near the gate. He knew she would want a fix and did not want to be bothered right now told her to go. She ignored him walked up to the small wall and watched him. His phone rang. "Hello," he said.
"Sam, the cops are all over the place, I am across the road watching," The voice said.
"Well make sure you stay away from the flats and don’t talk to anyone," Sam told him.
"The ambulance has just arrived," the voice said.
"Watch and see if the body is removed and when the cops leave try and see if it is the bitch," Sam told him.
"Will do," he said and hung up.
Emily listening to the conversation was quite intrigued. She asked Sam, "Who is the bitch?"
Sam without thinking looked at her and answered, "It is Denise."
"Denise," Emily said quite shocked.
"What's it to you, if you don’t leave, you will end up just like her?" he said realizing that he should not have said anything.
"OK I am going, I just want a fix, and don’t worry I won't say anything." She said pulling out a few notes from her pocket; she placed it in his hand.
He went inside and returned with a small packet, and handed it to her. Can I smoke this here; I really need to get my fix," She asked
"Go inside and hurry up," he said not watching her.
Emily went into the dingy lounge and quickly rolled the crack into a small pipe and lit it, Taking a huge draw and blowing out the smoke with a feeling of elation; she carried on smoking the joint. She tabbed the remains in an overfilled ashtray and walked out the door. Feeling euphoria, she did not greet him and left.
Sam watched her walk down the street, and thought how stupid she really was. He thought all people taking drugs were stupid, but he did not complain, he liked the money he got from selling the stuff. Wrapped up in his own thoughts, he did not see the police car stop outside the house. A young constable and sergeant walked up to him and greeted him.
"Hey my bro," Sam greeted them.
"So what's the buzz?" the officer asked.
"Got your cash," Sam said.
"Good, make it quick we must leave," he said.
Sam pulled out a roll of notes making sure nobody was watching and quickly handed it to the officer.
They thanked him and left. Sam watched the patrol van drive away. He knew the money paid over to the police was for their protection. It was good having protection he thought. Therefore, business continued to thrive.
Emily woke up it was dark. She did not know where she was; she sat up and realized that she was sleeping on a pavement. Dazed and confused, she rubbed her eyes. She checked her pockets they were empty. "Dam" she said. Still sitting she wondered what the time was and where she was. Looking around in the dark, she did not see anything familiar. She tried to stand up and felt the pain in her body. Finally able to stand, she wondered what had happened. She did not know. Still confused, she started walking down the dark street. Trying to recollect her thoughts, she was more confused than ever. In a strange suburb and so sore, oh the pain she thought. Her hands started shaking; she knew she needed a fix.
Trying to walk toward the light down the street, feeling confused with the terrible excruciating pain, she collapsed. Emily woke up in hospital, the ward was quiet, and she turned her head around. Nobody was in the room she was alone. Her body was tired, and the pain was dreadful. She wondered how long she had been there and where she actually was. Confused about trying to remember what happened, she did not hear the nurse enter.
"You are awake, I see," said the strapping nurse.
"Yes, I am but I have a lot of pain," Emily replied.
"Well the doctor will be here soon, then we can see what we can do," the nurse in a stern voice replied.
"Thank you," Emily muttered.
The nurse took her blood pressure reading and checked her pulse rate. Emily lay still not being able to move and not wanting to upset this nurse, whom she thought was quite furious. Writing done the results the doctor entered.
"Awake I see, and how are you feeling today?" The pleasant looking doctor asked.
"I still have a lot of pain," Emily replied.
"Do you recall what happened to you?" the doctor enquired.
"No I don’t know what happened," she replied.
"Well, I think you were beaten by somebody and then there is the question of drugs," he said.
"Beaten, I don’t remember," she said.
"You have been here for five days, when they brought you in, we almost lost you."
"I nearly died you say, I wonder if he wants to kill me like he killed Denise," she said.
"You know who did this to you?" the doctor enquired.
"I think I do, I am not sure," she said.
"Well the police will want to question you once you are stronger," he said.
"The police, no I don’t want to see the police," she said and started crying.
The doctor turned toward the nurse, telling her to fetch some medicine. She left and within minutes, returned. The doctor injected Emily and watched her fall into a deep sleep.
Emily woke up, the ward was dark, and she knew she was still in the hospital. Wanting to get out, she tried to climb out of the bed. The intravenous drip in her arm annoyed her. She jerked the needle out and watched the blood trickle down her hand. Grabbing the sheet on the bed, she wiped her hand. Still feeling dizzy, she took the glass of water next to the bed and drank it. Feeling a little better, she looked into the tiny closet and found no clothes. She was dressed in a hospital gown. She did not care; she walked toward the door and slowly opened it. Looking left and then right making sure nobody was in sight, she hurried down the dimly lit corridor. Still not knowing what hospital she was in, she did not care right now. She found the elevator and pushed the button. Waiting impatiently for the lift, she kept looking back to make sure nobody was following her. In the elevator, she pressed ground floor and waited. The doors opened and for a moment blinded by the bright light, she stepped into the entrance of the hospital. Noticing a few people behind counters and a coffee shop on her left, she quietly walked toward the glass doors and went outside into the dark night.
Unaware of the time or the place, she walked out of the hospital grounds toward a highway. Feeling exhausted she sat down on a pavement to recollect herself. Not watching the oncoming traffic, she did not notice a new Volvo car stop beside her. An elderly man, dressed in a suit looking very distinguished got out of the car. He walked toward her an enquired if she needed a lift. Not standing up she looked at this kind man and said she did. He offered her a lift and she got into the car.
She told him she needed to go to Rosettenville. He said it was no problem, the engine started and they drove away. Whilst driving, he enquired about her. Emily eying him quizzically was convinced he was a decent man. She told him her name, and mentioned that she lived in Rosettenville. Making light conversation, she asked him where he was from.
"My name is Nick, I am from Houghton, I am looking for my wife, she disappeared a few weeks ago," He said.
"Oh that is so sad, have you not contacted the police?" Emily asked.
"Yes I have but you know the system, they open the file and you never hear anything from them."
"What was her name?" Emily asked.
"Denise."
"Denise," Emily shocked said.
"Yes, why do you know her," he enquired.
"I am not sure, I knew a Denise but I am not sure if it is your wife," Emily answered.
Nearing a robot, he turned left and stopped the car. He switched the light on and took a photo from his jacket pocket.
"This is the last photograph I have of her," handing her the photo, he said.
"That is the Denise I know," she exclaimed.
"Please help me find her?" he pleaded.
"I don’t know if I can, I am not sure if she is alive," Emily replied.
"What are you talking about?" Nick said in a puzzled voice.
"Well, I suppose I should tell the truth," she said.
Emily told him of the conversation she had heard between Sam and an unknown caller. Without too much detail, Emily told him about her hospital incident and the drug lords. He was quite shocked.
"Please take me to Sam's house, I really need to know," Nick asked.
"No you cannot go there, they will kill you, even if I go there they will kill me," she said.
"How else will I ever know?"
"I am so hungry please get me something to eat and then we can think of something," she said.
Nick started the car and drove toward an all-night roadhouse. As soon as they stopped, a waiter came over and took their order. Whilst waiting for the order, he told her not to be afraid he would help her. She thanked him and said he had already helped. The food arrived; she took her double cheeseburger and devoured it. While watching her eat he offered her another one. She declined wiping her mouth and drank her coke, enjoying the taste of a gassy drink.
"We can go to the police, but I doubt whether they would help, they are on his payroll," she said.
"You mean bribery," Nick replied.
"Yes, exactly, they collect cash every week from Sam or Nandi," she said.
"Do you know who is behind the operation; usually there is some big name that sponsors the set up," Nick asked.
"Yes of course I do, I am a junkie I spend most of my time round that hell hole," Emily said.
"Go ahead, tell me his name?"
"It is Dube and he lives in Sandton," she said.
"Dube Ntloko?" Nick asked.
"Yes that is he, "Emily answered.
"Interesting, very interesting."
"So what else you want to know?" Emily asked.
"Give me the address of Sam's house," he said.
"Ok I see I am not going to get out of this one, it is 116 Bouquet Street."
"Thank you, you have helped a lot."
"Tell me mister, why would they kill your wife, you don’t look like the kind of person that would hang around the drug lords."
He told her that his wife Denise met Dube at a function. She quite liked him and found him to be a charming person. They became friends and soon, he noticed huge sums of money disappearing from their bank account. After about a year, he found her unconscious in the bathroom and called the doctor. He confirmed that she was a heroin addict. Nick told her about his wife's admission to rehab. Not wanting to come home, she chose to live with Dube and his family or so she told him, He saw her a month ago and pleaded with her to come back. He gave her some money to help her and she refused his help. He left her in the center of town and went home. Realizing he was wrong, he went in search of her and to this day is still searching.
"Wow, a fine lady with all the best things money can buy, she ends up with nothing."
"I am afraid it is true," he said.
"I am so sorry, you must be hurting bad," Emily said.
"I am, I loved her and sorry that I could not change her mind."
"Yea life sucks sometimes," Emily said.
"Well now where do you want me to take you?" He asked
"No it is ok, I know this road house, and I will get out and go my way."
He took out his wallet and handed her a few hundred rand. She thanked him and got out the car. He watched her walk into the street. The sun was beginning to rise; he looked up at the sky and began to cry.
Nick did not know how long he sat there. He went home and immediately logged onto the computer. Researching homemade bombs, he found some information. Printed out the pages and left for the hardware. Buying the required components, he went home. In the garage, he made a few powerful bombs, went inside, and slept.
He woke up at nine o clock, showered; feeling refreshed got dressed in his denims and t-shirt, put on his Nike boots and went into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and took out a frozen meal. Popped into the microwave and sat down. He took his phone and called Dube.
"Hello," Dube answered.
"Dube, I know you killed Denise, I have proof," Nick said.
"What the hell are you talking about and who are you?" Dube shouted.
"I am telling you, I know and if you want your wife and kids to live, I suggest you go to 116 Bouquet Street now."
"Who the hell are you, and what must I do at 116?"
"I am telling you again, go there now and when you get there, wait on the veranda. I will call you."
"I don’t know who the hell you are and I don’t care."
Click the phone was dead. He phoned back and before Dube could say anything, he said.
"Go there now, if not your wife and kids will die tonight," he put the phone down.
He ate his meal and drank some juice. Feeling satisfied, he left and went into the garage.
He loaded the bombs into his boot of the car and drove toward Rosettenville.
Nearing Bouquet Street, he stopped the car and phoned Dube.
"Are you there?"
"Yes I am, look man, let's talk about this," Dube said.
"Yes we will, I will be there now, " he said and put the phone down.
Dube was standing on the veranda, not at all happy about this, Sam and Nandi were there to. They discussed this matter and Dube told Nandi to shoot to kill as soon as he approached the house. Nandi holding his 45 automatic was ready.
Nick stopped his car two houses away across the road which commanded a good view of the veranda; he saw the three of them standing and waiting. He got out his car and looked up the street, he saw a few drunks walking toward him. He stopped them and offered them money, in return of a small favor. They were overjoyed it was easy; throw a few packets at 116, agreed. He took the neatly packed bombs out of the board, five in total and handed them to the men, he gave them a thousand rand each with the instructions on what to do.
The drunks took the money and the packets and walked toward the house. Dube and his cronies did not suspect anything. Yes, this street had all types of people walking up and down all the time. Standing across the road from number 116, the drunks stopped and within an instant threw the bombs at them.
The impact of the bomb caused a loud explosion. Flames engulfed the house with burning debris falling in all directions. The flames spread across the entire house at a rapid speed. Nick watching Dube screaming, trying to escape and a huge burning wooden beam fall on his back, trapping him. Sirens screeching in the background, he saw the fire department, police and ambulance arriving to help this unfortunate household.
Sitting in his car watching the burning house, he switched the ignition on and drove home. He got into the shower and sung a song. Whistling he climbed into bed and slept well.
The next morning, after dressing, he went to his computer switched it on and searched for the local news. Top story, 'Massive fire claims the live of three unidentified men… Police suspect foul play'. He smiled.
Have a happy week,stay blessed.
Your friend
Laura
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