Unravelled (20 page)

“Exactly how serious are the two of you?” Not-Rakwena asks slowly. His voice takes on a sinister probing quality, and suddenly I start to suspect that this might be the intruder Rre Sechaba was so afraid of.

“We’re very serious.” I take a step backwards into the dining room. “Extremely serious. Practically engaged.”

“Practically but not technically?” His smile broadens as he continues to advance on me. He looks me up and down as if I’ve turned into a chocolate sundae. “So it wouldn’t be much of a betrayal.”

How exactly did this long-lost twin come to be related to my Rakwena? Sweet, respectful, gentle Rakwena, who would never talk to me as if I were someone he picked up outside Gaborone Sun? Maybe this one was raised by the rotten father. I keep walking until the backs of my knees hit the sofa and I fall onto the soft cushions.

He lowers himself onto the sofa beside me. “He hasn’t touched you yet,” he whispers, and I have the presence of mind to wonder how the hell he knows that.

I try to get up and run, but suddenly he pins me down. My heart is beating so fast I can barely breathe. It’s like Thuli all over again. His eyes burn blue and sparks dance in his hands, Rakwena’s sparks, but they’re fading and feverish and they don’t feel the same. These sparks are painful, sending spasms through my arms.

I can’t even struggle – he’s twice as strong as Rakwena. Instead I close my eyes and try to force my way into his head, but his thoughts are blocked by a wave of hunger so strong it almost overwhelms me.

He laughs. “You should know by now that your powers don’t work on us.”

Us? Does he mean him and Rakwena? The front door slams shut just as he lowers his head to mine and I turn away.

“Rakwena!” I howl, and a moment later the weight is gone. I open my eyes to see the evil twin lying on the floor, bleeding from his mouth.

“That was uncalled for,” he protests, touching his split lip.

Rakwena doesn’t bother with the niceties. He bends over and lands another punch on his doppelganger, and another, and another, and –

“Stop!” I yell, and Rakwena hesitates long enough for the other guy to scramble to his feet.

“I think that’s enough.” All the humour is gone from his voice. He glares at Rakwena. I can see the energy pulsing out of his eyes, pushing Rakwena away. He’s stronger than I thought. Rakwena strains against the invisible barrier, then stumbles backwards.

“Stop being such a child,” says the intruder. “I barely touched her.”

Rakwena is shaking. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this angry. Blue sparks move up and down his arms, so strong I can hear them crack loudly. He steps in front of me, shielding me from the inevitable fight.

“What are you doing here?” Every word drips with venom. I’m getting scared now. I can’t see his eyes from where I’m standing, but I’m sure they’re burning bright blue like the other guy’s. Watching the two of them is surreal, like standing in front of a mirror.

“I came to see you, of course.” The twin smiles. “I hope you don’t mind – I helped myself to your fridge.”

“And my girlfriend,” Rakwena spits out.

The twin’s shoulders lift in a careless shrug. “No need to take it personally. You’re obviously not making use of her yourself.”

Rakwena lunges forward, but is held back by the powerful force of his guest. “You’re not welcome here. Get out.”

The twin laughs. “You can’t kick me out of my own house.”

“This is my
mother’s
house!”

The twin sighs and releases Rakwena from his power. “I’m not here to fight. Honestly, I was surprised your Conyza was so willing. I thought she would have put up some resistance…”

“Time to go,” Rakwena cuts in.

The twin’s eyes light up. He seems to have figured something out, something I’m still trying to piece together. “I see. Not quite as righteous as we pretend to be, are we?”

I gulp. “Rakwena, who is this?”

Rakwena grits his teeth. “It doesn’t matter. He’s leaving.”

“No, I think I’ll stay.” He turns his eyes on me. They’re still blue. “Your boyfriend is being rude, so I’ll have to make the introductions.” He holds out his hand.

“Don’t touch him,” Rakwena warns, as if I have any intention of doing so.

I stare at the proffered hand and remember the jolt of pain it sent through me. “Who are you and why are you here? Obviously Rakwena doesn’t want to see you.”

“He’s just annoyed with me for surviving,” says the twin, lowering his hand. “He and his poor crazy mother were under the impression that I was dead. Understandable, since he’s the one who tried to kill me.”

I blink. “Oh…” I’m starting to get the gist of this story, and I don’t like it one bit.

He chuckles. “My name is Senzo, but you can call me Daddy if you like.”

I swallow hard and reach for Rakwena’s hand. I’m not dreaming. I’m wide awake, and I wish I weren’t. “Oh, my God. Is this…is this really…”

Rakwena glowers at Senzo and spits the words out. “My father.”

I stare at the man in front of us.
Father
? He can’t be. He’s young and trendy and just tried to have his way with me on the sofa. How can he possibly be Rakwena’s father?

I zero in on the similarities. The face, the blue sparks, the telekinesis. Besides the scar, the one thing missing from Senzo is the one thing that makes Rakwena who he is – his character. Rakwena is loyal, kind, smart and disciplined. His father, on the other hand, is like an animal in heat.

On closer inspection, I can see the signs of age. Faint, but present – a few lines around his eyes and on his forehead, a slight gauntness in the cheeks. Even so, he doesn’t look a day over thirty.

“He won’t touch you again,” Rakwena promises.

But I’m not worried about that anymore. I’ve just realised that Rre Sechaba still hasn’t made an appearance. My gaze shifts to the kitchen window, through which I get a glimpse of the garden. “Rakwena…”

“It’s OK,” he says.

“Rre Sechaba.”

Rakwena tenses.

“Oh, the gardener.” Senzo grins. “Don’t worry, he’ll live.”

Rakwena rushes forward, dragging me along as he pushes past his father and barrels into the garden. Rre Sechaba is lying still in the soil. I release Rakwena’s hand. He bends down to lift the old man and carry him to the pavement. He brushes dirt and leaves from his face and checks for a pulse.

“He’s OK,” he pronounces, with a sigh of relief. “I think he just knocked him out.” He hoists the unconscious figure onto his shoulder and carries him into the house, laying him on the sofa.

“What did you do?” I glare at Senzo over my shoulder.

He stands unconcerned in the doorway, hands in his pockets. “Just a little jolt of electricity. He’ll be up in a couple of hours.”

Neither of us sees the punch coming. Rakwena moves in a blur, and the next thing I know Senzo is reeling and bleeding from the nose.

“You need to do something about your temper,” Senzo remarks, wiping the blood away with his sleeve.

I sink onto the arm of the sofa. There were rumours earlier this year that Rakwena’s father was alive, that a
sangoma
in South Africa had seen him in a vision. But there’s a huge difference between rumours circulating across the border and a flesh-and-blood man standing in front of me. A year ago my life was almost normal, and now it’s just one damn thing after another. I don’t know what to think. I came here to tell Rakwena about the Cresta Crew, but now none of that seems to matter.

I stare at Senzo, still having trouble believing that he’s Rakwena’s father. “How did you even get inside?”

He rolls his eyes.

“He used telekinesis to turn the gate to manual.” Rakwena is calming down a little; his eyes are dark brown again, and I can no longer see the sparks on his body.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to cut the reunion short,” Senzo announces with a smile. “I have business to attend to. Nice meeting you, Conyza.” He leaves through the front door, sauntering away without a care in the world. No wonder Rakwena’s mother lost her mind.

I wrap my arms around Rakwena and we stand in silence for a long time. When I can feel that his anger has subsided, I let my hands fall to my sides. I glance at Rre Sechaba, still unconscious on the sofa. “What are we going to do?”

Rakwena takes my hand. His jaw is set, and when he speaks his voice is soft and uncertain, more vulnerable than I’ve heard it in a while. “There’s nothing we
can
do.”

Chapter Nine

“I’m uncomfortable with the state of things,” Wiki declares the next morning.

For the first time in ages he doesn’t have his nose in a book. Why bother with books when you have nail-biting drama unravelling right in front of you?

“That makes two of us,” I mumble.

I’m slumped on the bench beside him, staring sullenly into space. Lebz sits on my other side, stunned into silence. I’ve just told them about Senzo’s return from the grave, and their reactions are only adding to my anxiety.

Lebz takes a long, deep breath. “I think your telepathy is bad luck.”

I don’t even have the energy to put on a baffled expression. “I’m sure you’re going to explain that.”

“Think about it,” she says, her tone sombre. “Ever since you developed it, your life has become one drama after another. The Puppetmaster, Thuli, Rakwena, the Cresta Crew and now this.”

I heave a weary sigh. I’m worried and emotionally exhausted, and I’m really not in the mood for Lebz’s theories. “These things have always been there – telepathy just makes me more aware of them.”

“Well,
something
about you attracts trouble,” she mutters.

This time I turn to face her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Wiki clears his throat, and Lebz gives me a knowing look. “Your boyfriend shares a secret with six freaks and his father just came back from the dead,” she reminds me.

OK. Maybe I
do
have more than my fair share of supernatural drama.

I turn to Wiki. “Any words of wisdom?”

He sighs. “I don’t think there’s much you can do. Who knows, maybe Rakwena and his father can finally make peace.”

I wince at the thought, imagining going over to Rakwena’s house and making nice with his sinister father. “That’s never going to happen.”

“What’s never going to happen?”

Oh, for goodness sake. Can’t a girl have one day of peace? My head swivels in the direction of the familiar voice. Kelly looks prettier than ever today, and she’s
smiling
at me.

Lebz gushes a greeting.

“Hi,” I say warily.

“Hey, Conz, Lebz. Hey, Wiki.”

Conz? What the hell sort of nickname is Conz? Why do I get a nickname at all? We’re not
that
friendly.

Wiki nods. “Morning, Kelly.”

“What’s up?” Lebz asks eagerly.

“I just wanted to return this.” She reaches into her bag and retrieves a slim book, which she hands to Wiki. “You were right – it was really good.”

I stare from one to the other in confusion. Why is Wiki lending Kelly reading material? More importantly, why is she taking it? As far as I know, Kelly’s preferences range from
Cosmopolitan
to
Heat
, with a little
Drum
thrown in for good measure. I slant my head to the left so I can see the title before Wiki puts the book back in his own bag; it’s Chinua Achebe’s
Things Fall Apart.
Not only is she reading, but she’s reading African classics! This is serious.

Wiki’s face lights up. There’s nothing he loves more than being able to share the gift of knowledge. “Did you really like it? It used to be on the Literature syllabus until they revised it a few years ago.”

“It was interesting to read about a different culture,” she remarks. “Do you have any more?”

Wiki nods eagerly. “I think I might have something in my bag.”

Lebz and I exchange baffled glances. I must have stepped into an alternate reality. Kelly reads, drifters appear, dead fathers don’t stay dead. What next? The bell goes. Kelly waves, even at me, and heads towards her friends, clutching another of Wiki’s books.

“What’s up with Kelly’s new interest in books?” I ask Lebz.

“Kelly’s not stupid,” she retorts with a trace of annoyance, but I can tell she’s surprised, too.

I snicker. “Sure. So what do you think I should do about the drifters?”

She gives me a look that I can’t quite interpret. “You know, not everything is about you, Connie.”

My jaw drops. “What does
that
mean?”

“I’m sure it means nothing,” says Wiki, shooting Lebz a warning glance.

“It means we’re always talking about
your
drama,” says Lebz. “I get that you have a lot going on,” she adds when I open my mouth to protest. “But you
always
have a lot going on! There’s no room in your head for our boring ungifted lives.”

Ouch. I stare at her, too shocked by this sudden outburst to respond. I’m not self-absorbed. Am I? I can’t be. I think of all the hours I’ve spent listening to Lebz go on about Kelly and Botho and who’s going out with whom. Do I complain? Never. In fact our entire friendship has been centred on Lebz; it’s only over the last year that anything even remotely interesting started to happen in my life.

“Sorry,” she concludes with a toss of her head, “but it had to – ”

“I think you’ve said enough,” Wiki hisses, grabbing her by the elbow and steering her towards class. “We’ll talk later.” He gives me an apologetic look over her head.

I head towards my first lesson, my stomach in knots.

***

I don’t see Lebz during Break; she decides to spend it with Kelly.

“Don’t worry,” says Wiki as he unwraps his lunch. “She’s just a little jealous.”

“Jealous?” I shake my chips to distribute the salt. I must be a little too vigorous, because a few chips jump out of the packet and land in my lap. I pop them into my mouth and glance at the faint oil stains they leave behind on the grey fabric. “Nobody would want the sort of crap I’m dealing with, especially Lebz. Magical beings are
not
her forte.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” He takes a bite of his sandwich and swallows before continuing. “Our trio has always been predictable. I’m the know-it-all, you’re the weirdo, and she’s the diva who gets all the attention. It’s been that way for years – until now.”