Hey. BAStard I stood rooted to the spot with my teeth chattering in my mouth and my lips moving feverishly in supplication. That afternoon, my class had gone for swimming lessons. Wed stripped to our swimming trunks and when we were done learning, Id found out my school uniform wasnt where I kept it. After a frantic and futile search, I skipped to my class half unclad and saw the uniform hanging on a nail stuck in the wall facing the class. A wild gale of laughter, mean expletives and calls of dickhead and dweeb rented the air as I faltered with my wet, frail body towards my clothes. Changing into them in the restroom, I felt my pockets and discovered my wallet and ID card were gone. The urge to weep raged within me, the pepperish burn of tears smarted the back of my eyes. I gritted my teeth, valiantly attempting to stifle the hot stream, but a drop fell, and another, and then the long salty stream followed as my waif body broke down and racked with sobs. When I was done, Id cleaned up and tried to pull open the door but it didnt yield. Someone had locked it. I banged in frustration and misery but the reply I got was a bang in response to mine, wild sniggers and a statement filled with murky swear words. The walls were soundproof so shouting for help was out of the question. Now, this wasnt just mischief. I had the sudden idea that they were planning something. It was a Friday, afterall. Punching me in the stomach, bashing me on the head, giving me a thorough beating that would satiate them for the next two days wasnt out of their thoughts. Id begun to feel weak and terrified. Bodily harm always scared me. Something close to three hours later, I heard the plaintive creak of the door hinges and saw the door ease slightly open- That was long after the closing bell had gone. I cautiously looked out, walked to my class and gathered up my books, then walked down the stairs with wobbly feet and the worst type of apprehension tearing at my chest. I looked left, right and as far as my eyes could see and half-ran. A rapid turn round a bend and I walked right into the moment that I wished Id never been born. Masilela, Keyede, Ebube, Sadiq, Rick and Yetunde, a lady, the notorious gang of six that christened themselves the Hex-a-gun were waiting for me. It was Sadiq, the leader of the gang that called me a bastard. Dont you hear your name?, Ebube screamed at me. He had this rooted idea that everyone he spoke to, apart from his cronies, were auditory impaired. I stood there, as still as the great Sphinx, too frightened to talk, too shocked to breathe. From the periphery of my vision, I could see they stood up and were coming close with clubs in their hands. My heartbeat hammered, filling up my ears and my spirit slid out and fled to a distance to sit down comfortably and see the manner with which life was to be beaten out of my body. Warm liquid slowly seeped from my crotch down my thighs, to my knees and down to my ankles. Like wolves in bedtime stories, they surrounded me and I stared down with unseeing eyes and shook violently. Yetunde waltzed right in my face, slowly traced a cold finger from my chin to my temples and yanked off my specs. She tossed it down, crushed it under the spiky heel of her shoe and gave me a sudden hard slap on the face that sent shock waves down my spine. Masilela, the hugest of them, whammed a piledriver of a kick on my chest and I hurtled backwards with the speed of a bullet from a gun and landed on my back while my books sailed up and came down around me. I squinted and coughed dryly with my hands stretched out in defence. An asphyxiating constriction had begun to rise and tighten in my chest and throat. I coughed again, this time continuously spewing thick, blackish red blood. In those moments that I thought were my last, brief image flashes of my mother and Kess appeared in my head. Rick, the evilest of them walked over and made to hit me with his club and I cowered to the ground, choked by tears and blood. Please, please. Ill...leave. Ill leave this school He shook his head and a sneer pulled at his lips. He raised his club high and was about clamping me when we heard, Hey from a distance. Everyone turned towards the direction of the voice. I was way too scared to look up. Touch him again and thatll be the last silly thing youd do in a long time. The voice sounded strikingly familiar. I took a surreptitious peek. From my blurred vision, I managed to see Kess walking towards us in his usual relaxed tread. He stopped a couple of paces before us with one hand in his pocket and the other hanging. His face was expressionless. They looked closely at him, then at me. Twins? Twins! He brushed the tip of his nose with the side of his fore finger and pointed at me, Let the guy go. Maybe Ill forget this ever happened Sadiq swaggered forward, laughing coldly and cruelly. In exaggerated surprise, he turned and whispered to the others, Lookey there. We have twins now!. He ambled up so close to Kess that their faces now a couple of inches apart. The air between them was electric, tense. I was relieved but at the same time, scared. Relieved that Kess was here, scared theyd kill im for daring to threaten them. Id never seen Kess fight. He fought last, or so I thought, eight years ago, when we were nine. Hed broken the guys arm for calling me a slow-thinking geek and our furious mother grounded him for a month. Let him go And he replied in a slow, harsh whisper, Make...us Sadiq turned and made to walk away. What happened came so fast. He swung his club around with such ferocity that instantly wouldve dented Kess skull if his instincts and incredible reflexes werent sharp enough to make him duck. The heavy club swung slightly above his ducked figure with a short, loud breeze trailing not far behind. The sheer savagery of his swing made him lurch violently sideways. With viper-striking swiftness, Kess, still ducked, moved a little forward and wrecked a crippling sock into his ribs. The explosive impact made an ugly sound, like the sound an inflated paper bag makes when its trode on. Sadiqs club slipped from his weakened fingers. He tried to scream but released a strangled yelp instead. Croppering headlong to the ground with both hands placed gingerly on his broken ribs, writhing, he releasing a blood-curdling howl - One down. The silence fell three notches lower, followed by a collective gasp of something between horror and shock. Ebube screamed, charging forward rather impulsively, like an enraged wild cat. A chopping back-handed blow connected to and cracked his left jaw bone, sending him twirling in confusion and plunging down. He struggled, stiffened for some seconds and immediately went limp with his mouth hung loosely open- Two down. Keyede and Rick closed in on him at once but halted a few paces before him, like unsure little puppies. The stillness in his eyes and the serenity of his countenance created a sinister ambience around him. They fidgeted, battling against the urge to flee. Then, they rushed towards him, their clubs high up above their heads and brought them down hard on him. Keyedes club caught Kess on the right hip bone while the other, Tundes, wouldve totally disfigured his face if he hadnt been quick enough to obviate the smash with an instinctive raise of the sides of his lower arms. He grunted in pain, then staggered a few paces backward, his steps mighty unsteady. His hands fell and dangled at his sides, his open palms shook, his fingers fluttered and flexed and every now and then, he touched the tip of his nose with the side of his thumbs as he darted cautious glances at both of them. The open palms doubled into fists and a lethal expression came into his eyes as he ground his teeth. He touched his nose again, flexed his shoulders and bounced towards them. Before Rick could muster enough courage to take a swing, Kess brought his left fist up in a well-aimed chopping uppercut that caught him directly under the chin. Rick clutched at his throat, choked, cast about wildly, gave a dry, sickly-sounding gurgle, crumbled to his knees, made a feeble attempt to get to his feet and finally slumped- Three down. Yetunde was still by my side, observing quietly and Masilelas hand was folded across his chest with a smug grin across his lips. Keyede took three steps forward, obviously in two minds what he should do. He waved his club wildly in front of him and kept on waving it while Kess kept staggering backwards. He halted abruptly, observed an opening, rushed forward and dove lowly and swiftly at his knees. Keyede fell on his bum, grappling and tearing like a crazed monkey. Kess freed himself from his sissy grip in an instant, caught and twisted the front of his collar and fist-pounded his face with the brutal force of an executioners axe. He pounded his eyes till they fell shut, split open the cartilage of his nose that immediately pumped out gum-thick blood, tore his lips with a head butt and smashed loose the whole of his front row of teeth. By the time he was done, Keyedes face was an grotesque mask of crimson. Kess looked up, his face had the baleful expression of a starving bear that had just lost its meal- Four down. He dusted his hands and straightened up. Masilela was next. He uncrossed his hands, still grinning. He slowly undid his buttons and eased out of his shirt then let it drop. His abs were a fine row of fist-sized polished marble, his shoulders were massive and powerfully built, reaching the tip of his ears like little hills, his chest possessed an encyclopedic thickness with huge, protruding breasts close enough to hang an axe between and the brawny build of his arm muscles spelled gross cruelty and disastrous tidings. Emblazoned on his back was a hard-core biomechanical and German swastika tattoo with the name, NAZIlela, finely crested on it. This six-foot tall guy, probably a half a bag of rice heavier than Kess, was a complete beast and he looked like he religiously ate nails for breakfast. I began to fear for Kess. Kess quickly took off his polo and threw it off. He knew this one wasnt to be in vague comparison to the four he had just knocked cold. What I saw shocked me. Both of our faces were drawn on his chest with our mothers just above. I never knew he had tats. They were about twenty paces apart. The wide expanse of sand with blood-soaked patches, the four almost lifeless bodies and the sweltering afternoon air lay between them. Masi closed up his palms and tightened them into fists that formed into huge mallet heads. They moved slowly towards each other. The tension and the urge to inflict grievous injury had stretched to its limit and snapped into a craving to do something close to murder to the other. Masi jogged towards him and blew air into his fists, Kess limped forward and touched his nose. They paused a couple of feet from themselves simultaneously, circled around with gladiatorial cautiousness, each trying to anticipate the others move, hate in their eyes and hate in their breath. They closed in and clashed... Kess threw a quick and deadly left-hand jab at Masis face but the latter already anticipated that, shifted his head slightly sideways with an expert swiftness that revealed practice and banged a solid right-hand cross into Kess jaw. As he reeled sideways holding his bruised jaw, Masi immediately caught him by the throat in a steel-like grip, planted his other palm at Kess back, raised him high up and smacked him down, then began to circle him, glaring down at him with murderous disdain. Kess heaved himself up in an instant, staggering as he strove to regain balance. His vision looked unfocused, a red bruise had formed into an ugly swell on his jaw. The dude obviously packed one hell of a punch. He regained balance, half-leaping, half-bouncing, touching the tip of his nose and moving from side to side. He threw a jab that hadnt travelled up to half its length before Masi swatted it aside with the break-neck speed and ease of a professional, simultaneously sweeping him off the ground with a perfectly calculated leg swipe. He spun in the air and came down hard on his side with a thud that obviously drove half the breath out of his body. Masi drew down the corners of his lips in derision, shook his head slowly and pitiably and made a disapproving click with his tongue as he circled him. Kess heaved himself up again with much more difficulty and swayed like someone suddenly thrown off a carousel. He shook his head to ward off the dizziness swimming in there and bounced forward. He fired a fusillade of quick ones towards Masis torso but the latter drew back, swatting aside four of the six punches and bringing down a Glasgow kiss on the space between his forehead and nose. Kess staggered backwards and shook his head. A pencil line of blood slowly trickled down a cut a little above his left brow and he wiped it off with the back of his fists. Seeing his own blood drove him into fury and he swore under his breath, spitting and limping... An excerpt from The Sure Way by KIA
Posted on: Tue, 30 Dec 2014 19:05:15 +0000
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