YOLANDA XABA
If my stepfather is doing all these nice gestures to make me forget about how he is making my life a living hell, then he should just forget it. I still hate him. Argh, I hate that I am going to have to be nice to him so there can be peace between us. For how long am I going to have to pretend, though?
Oh, just when I start thinking I can handle one problem, and then there is Thando who just doesn’t know when to shut her f*****g mouth! She always brings up my mother’s untimely death whenever she can. It hurts and she knows that my mother is my weakness, so she never fails to use her to get to me. I do not know what I ever did to this child but whatever I did, I am going to do it ten times harder when she does not expect it. I am still grieving right now, but when I come back to my senses, I am going to show her what I am made of.
Just as I was about to lay my head on the couch and watch a Netflix series until I fall asleep, I hear the door gets opened. I raise my head to see who it is, and my stepdad walks in. His eyes catch mine. They are so warm and sympathetic; I wonder what he is thinking.
He makes his way to the lounge and takes a seat next to me.
“I thought you would be at work, baba. Is there something wrong?” I ask as I sit up straight.
“They can manage without me at work. I decided to come home and just stay the day at home with you alone,”
I gasp, widening my eyes.
“No, not like… I am sorry… I mean, we both lost someone who meant a lot to both of us, especially yourself. I am sorry I was never there for you, but I want to make it up to you. Your mother left you with me and she expects me to take care of you. I want you to know that whenever you need to talk to me about something, I am here for you. You can call me anytime and I will drop everything off for you, okay?”
I have to admit; this is the man I met three years ago. Nice, tender, and considerate. Hearing him talking to me like this makes me very emotional because I have been longing for this for so long. I needed my father to hug me and tell me these words, but he was not here, and he still isn’t. My stepfather said everything that I needed to hear and as much as I hate feeling vulnerable, I burst out into tears and cry out loud. He quickly pulls me to him, and I find myself lying on his chest, holding him for dear life.
It feels good I don’t want to let go of him. I am glad he does not pull me off him and does not mind my tears damping his posh clothes.
“I am sorry, baby girl. It is all going to be alright, I promise you.”
***
I am woken up by a boisterous voice, forcing me to wake up from my bed. How did I even get here?
I slide my slippers on before I head out of my room to see what is going on. I notice two men wearing black clothes standing in the lounge, looking at my ferocious stepfather. They look so scared.
“So, are you f*****g telling me that there is an infiltrator in the gang? Listen, I want you both to find that mole, and I must know who it is by tonight or I will f*****g terminate you both, am I clear?” My father roars at them. I gasp so loud that I caught their attention. I quickly turn back, rushing to my bedroom, and I hear him cussing as if regretting his choice of words towards those men.
What did he mean by that, and what gang is he talking about?
***
DANIEL MARTINEZ
My children don’t know the other side of me, and it was never my intention to bring this other side for Yolanda to see. I am wondering how much she heard because I know I have said much. Damn, I must have woken her up with my ferocious tone.
The thing is, I am angry right now. Who dares to disrespect me like that and hijack my f*****g trucks that carried a merch worth two million Rand? They must be found and pay with their lives. No one dares to disrespect ME and gets away with it so easily. I am going to f*****g kill them. They do just not call me Alpha for nothing. I am the mother f*****g mafia that can get this city shaking when I need it too.
Argh, now I need to go and check on Yolanda and see if she is okay.
“Baby girl, can I come in?” I ask as I knock on her bedroom door. When I get no response, I take it as a sign to let myself in.
She is sitting on the carpet on the floor, hugging her legs as her back rests against the bed. I am glad that she is not crying right now as she did earlier. I was so relieved when she passed out in my arms because she wouldn’t stop crying, so I made sure that I carried her to comfortably sleep in her bedroom. I almost, almost took her upstairs to sleep on my bed, but I stopped myself from doing so.
“You shouldn’t have heard what you heard. Are you okay?” I ask, standing in the middle of the room, looking down at her.
“Who are those men? Why did you threaten them?” She questions, bluntly.
I let out a breath before I answer her.
“You know, sometimes when something goes wrong in a business, you are forced to use force towards a threat that is costing your business,”
“What business is that, baba?”
Oh, dear child. Where do I even begin explaining this “business”? She only knows my profession, and that is Chiropractor. I have a Doctor of Chiropractor degree, and I have opened multiple offices all over the country. I live in Sandton, the richest and most expensive city in Johannesburg, South Africa. This is where my main office is based as a doctor and what I do in the daylight.
I met Yolanda and her mother when they came for their appointment three years ago. Yolanda was just so interested in what I do, and I just did not mind mentoring her, so I told her mother that she can bring her in on weekends to see how we work, and that was how I got to know them.
I did fall in love with her mother, but I fell in love with Yolanda more. She was young, and all that I could do is watch her grow while I married her mother. Tell me if this is normal because I feel so terrible deep inside.
“What would you like for your eighteenth birthday?” I randomly ask, tilting my head.
“Huh?” She slowly raises her head at me. I guess I caught her off guard.
“I am asking if you would like to have something on your birthday, Yolanda?” I repeat, keeping my eyes on her eyes.
“Uhm, I don’t know what I want, baba,”
I nod my head, making my way towards the door.
“You have one and a half month to think about it. And please,” I turn to look back at her. “Call me Daddy.” I then walk out and shut the door.
***
Aksara