Unravelled (27 page)

***

Exams pass in a blur of last-minute desperation and blinding headaches. Despite the stress that comes with final year, Ntatemogolo pushes me harder than ever and doesn’t let up for a minute. It’s almost as if he’s trying to break me.

Exams end on a Thursday, and Wiki, Lebz and I have big plans to celebrate. Movies and ice cream are involved. We wait until almost everyone else has left and the campus is quiet.

We sit on our bench in party hats, holding plastic cups. It’s the last time we’ll all be here together like this, in uniform, after a day of school. I’m feeling exhausted, sentimental and a little sad. Lebz’s party hat sits jauntily on the side of her head and Wiki’s makes him look like a clown, but I’m not telling.

We pour ourselves large cups of Fanta Orange. I swallow the lump in my throat. “What are we drinking to?”

“To growing up,” suggests Wiki, holding up his cup.

I smile.

“To growing up,” Lebz and I reply in unison, and the three of us clink our cups together and drink.

Despite the silly hats, it feels like a solemn moment. Our days of sitting here in between classes are over. No more whispering to Lebz in English Lit, taking turns to go to the tuck-shop, or making fun of Wiki when he emerges from the library laden with books on the first day of term.

I’m going to miss Syringa. I don’t feel like a kid anymore, and it’s strange. I thought I’d feel like a kid forever. My friends are excited for me, but I can’t say I feel the same. I feel as though I’ve been hit by one freight train after another without so much as a moment’s recovery time, and I’m frayed at the ends.

I put on my best party smile for my friends. I’ve made it this far. I’m still not sure whether or not Ntatemogolo has been brainwashed by the Puppetmaster, but I haven’t seen Emily again, so that’s something.

I haven’t seen Duma either. I suppose there’s no reason to follow me around now that I’m no use to them. Looks like I didn’t have that much influence over Rakwena after all.

I miss him. It’s a raw, gaping hole in my chest that refuses to heal. I miss him, but I still haven’t found the right words to say, the magical remedy that will put the pieces back together. I’m so very tired.

“OK, party over,” Lebz announces, pulling me back into the moment. “Let’s hit the movies.”

When we reach the gate, I stop to look back. It seems to be a season for goodbyes for me. I don’t know how I feel about that.

“Connie, come on!”

I turn away from the past and hurry to catch up with my friends. It’s a new era. I just wish I knew what to expect.

***

It takes me ages to fall asleep on Saturday night. There’s an ache in my stomach and a burning in my chest that won’t go away; I suspect it has something to do with the large double-cheese pizza I had for supper. I toss and turn for hours before finally falling asleep close to midnight.

Angry voices intrude on my sleep, jolting me awake.

“Absolutely not!”

“I’m not asking your permission. Where is she? I want to see her now!”

“Have you lost your mind? How dare you show up here in the middle of the night and bark orders at me! Get out of my house!”

“I am not leaving without Conyza.”

“You’re a bloody raving lunatic!”

“Get out of my way, Raymond!”

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing? She’s asleep, for God’s sake!”

I open my eyes to see my grandfather standing at my door, which has just burst wide open. Light pours in from the corridor. Dad pushes past Ntatemogolo, face drawn and lips pursed. He’s clearly not impressed by this midnight visit.

“Sorry darling, I tried to stop him from waking you,” he growls, glaring at my grandfather.

I sit up. “What’s wrong?”

“Rakwena’s ill,” says Ntatemogolo. “Come.”

“Ill?” I climb out of bed. “Where is he? What’s wrong with him?”

Dad makes an exasperated noise in his throat. “I’m sure it can wait till morning.”

“Morning will be too late.” Ntatemogolo pushes forward into my room. “Connie, it’s bad. You must come with me
now
.”

I don’t need to hear any more. I grab the first pair of shoes I can find.

“Connie, get back in bed,” Dad says tersely. “You’re not a bloody doctor! If it’s that serious the boy should be in hospital.” He turns on Ntatemogolo. “How can you toy with his life like this? And coming here, sending Connie into a panic – ”

“Dad, please, there’s no time for this!” Terrible thoughts are dancing through my mind, flashbacks of the premonition I had when I saw him at Bontleng.

“I’m coming with you.”

“No!” Ntatemogolo and I speak at the same time.

“You don’t understand the way we do things,” snaps Ntatemogolo. “This is a delicate cultural issue.”

“No, this is just a ridiculous stunt!” Dad rakes a hand through his dishevelled hair. He looks at me, his eyes bright with anger. “If the boy is really sick, let me call my doctor.”

“Please don’t. I’ll be back, Dad.” I hurry past him and follow my grandfather out of the house.

“Connie, damn it, come back here! What do you think you can do for him? Connie!” He hurries after us, but by the time he reaches the gate we’re already in the car. “Lerumo, don’t make me call the police. This is madness!”

“Please try to understand,” I call through the window. “I have to see him. Please, Dad.”

He stands at the gate, livid and silent. His glare follows us as the car pulls into the dark street. I’m afraid he’ll do something stupid, but I can’t think about that now.

“What happened, Ntatemogolo?”

“He overdosed on the serum.” Ntatemogolo glances at me.

I frown. “Overdosed?”

“He came to me twice over the last few months for a refill,” my grandfather explains. “The second time was that day when you had the premonition.” He shakes his head ruefully, his face twisted in a guilty grimace. “I should have been more careful. He was half-dead by the time Rre Sechaba brought him to my place tonight. He kept mumbling something about killing the curse. Once I examined him I knew.”

The more I hear, the more my fear grows. I take deep breaths, trying to keep calm. An overdose! I can’t even imagine the consequences. “What did it do to him?”

“You know how the serum works – it suppresses his natural desires and replaces them with different cravings.” He runs a red light, then another, and keeps talking. “Well, he’s been doubling his doses for some time, because he can no longer satisfy the cravings. If an inkolosi doesn’t conquer within a few weeks, his body will go into starvation mode and his powers wane. In Rakwena’s case, the opposite happens – his energy intensifies.

“His human cells are struggling to cope and his energy levels have not stopped rising. If they keep going at this rate, he’s going to burn himself up. He is on an antidote right now, but it’s slow.” He glances at me again as we take the turn into Bontleng. “I didn’t want to call you. I would have dealt with it myself, but you have a powerful effect on him – you are the only one who can calm him down. I need his energy levels to stop rising. If you can keep him stable, it will give the antidote time to work.”

I nod, my head swimming with all this information. I’m not going to let him die. That just doesn’t work for me. I leap out of the car before it comes to a complete stop and bolt into the house, knowing the front door will be unlocked.

I hurry into the consultation room. “Rakwena!” He’s lying on a mat on the floor, doubled over in pain. There’s an empty syringe next to him. I fall to my knees beside him.

“It’s a spasm,” my grandfather says softly, coming in after me. “It will pass.” He crouches to check Rakwena’s pulse, then slips out of the room, leaving us alone.

“It’s OK,” I whisper, though it obviously isn’t.

In a few moments the spasm ends and Rakwena straightens his body and turns on his side so he’s facing me. He looks terrible. He’s covered in sweat and his eyes are glowing blue, the white parts shot through with blue and green veins. Veins stand out all over his body, so swollen I can see them through his thin T-shirt. I half expect them to break through the skin. He smiles at me as if I’m an angel.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” I touch the side of his face and sparks crackle against my hand, searing my skin. I flinch, but keep my hand on his face. “How bad is it?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

He’s lying. I remember how I felt when I had the premonition. It was like being burnt alive from the inside out. If I had known that he had the serum with him at that moment, would the premonition have made more sense? Would I have been able to prevent this? Probably not. I’m furious with myself for not trying harder to figure it out. I just assumed it referred to his emotional state. I’m furious with him, too. Taking a deliberate overdose of magic medicine? Who does that?

“You’re the most stupid person I have ever met,” I tell him with fervour. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“You know what I was thinking.” His voice seems to get weaker with each word.

I shake my head, running a finger down the throbbing vein in his temple and ignoring the fire that leaps into my skin.

“I didn’t think your grandfather would fetch you in the middle of the night. It’s a little melodramatic.” His eyes slide closed.

“Rakwena?”

He opens them briefly, then they roll back in his head and his eyelids slide shut again.

“Damn it! Lizard, if you die I’m going to kill you!” I lie down beside him and wrap my arms around him. I grit my teeth, steeling myself against the pain. It’s almost unbearable. He burns like iron against me through our clothes, and at the places where our skin touches I feel like hot knives are slicing through me. I gasp, then grit my teeth to keep myself from crying out, but a low moan escapes my lips despite my efforts.

“Connie, don’t.” His eyes are still closed. He tries to push me away but he’s too weak. “Please.”

“Shut up,” I whisper. My eyes are watering, but I don’t let go. “I’m trying to save your stupid life.”

He’s quiet for so long I fear he’s lost consciousness, but then I hear his voice, soft but still hanging on. “I didn’t think the side effects would be this bad.”

I’m torn between anger, terror and desperation. Tears stream down my face freely. “We’ve already established your lack of judgement, Lizzie.”

“Stop.”

“No.”

“I didn’t want to come here,” he whispers.

“Why not?”

“Rre Sechaba made me. He didn’t understand. He didn’t believe me.”

“What do you mean?”

Rakwena doesn’t respond. I hold him tight, puzzling over his words, but soon the pain demands all my attention. Both of us are drenched in a mixture of sweat and tears now, and the moisture only seems to increase the intensity of the sparks crackling against my skin. My body screams for me to let go, but I can’t. I imagine a world without Rakwena’s cocky grin and tighten my grip. I don’t know how much time passes. At some point I think I hear voices, but I could have dozed off and dreamed them.

After a while the pain is reduced to a dull throbbing. Maybe I just don’t feel it anymore. I don’t know if my tactics are working or not – Rakwena is still very weak.

“Connie?”

“Mmm?” My eyes are closed, my head resting on his sweltering chest.

“You’re the most important person in my life.”

“After your mother.”

“Along with my mother. Before you I was just a guy no one wanted to talk to.”

“I didn’t want to talk to you either.”

“I know.” He’s quiet for a moment. “I should have told you the truth.”

“Yep.”

“I’m sorry. I was afraid that – ”

“Stop.” I rest my chin against his chest. “We’re not having a deathbed confession, OK? Conserve your energy.”

“I need you to know how much you mean to me,” he croaks.

“You overdosed on anti-drifter serum. I think you made your point.”

“I’m serious,” he says. “If I’ve screwed everything up, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Not now.” I can’t have this discussion. My body is weak and throbbing with pain and my mind is hazy. “We’ll talk about this when you’re strong enough to take a punch.”

“But – ”

I lift my head and silence him the only way I can think of. His lips send fiery jets of electricity through my jaw, searing bolts of agony that make my head sing. Pain explodes at the base of my skull and shoots down my back, eliciting a moan from my lips. How can it hurt so terribly and yet feel good at the same time?

“Stop talking,” I whisper when I pull away. At least that’s what I intend to say, but my tongue is a useless lump of flesh in my mouth and the words come out garbled. My head is spinning. Every cell in my body hurts.

Rakwena doesn’t say another word. After a while I lean my head back to look at his face. His eyes are closed and his breathing is steady. I think he’s asleep. I settle into a comfortable position and close my eyes, and soon exhaustion overtakes me.

***

I wake up on the sofa with a blanket over me. I feel better, but my skin is covered in a dry, pungent herbal ointment. I scratch at the green layer on my palm and peel off a little patch. The skin beneath is angry, red and blistered.

I don’t feel any more pain, though. Ntatemogolo must have moved me and treated my burns. If my services are no longer required, I can only assume that Rakwena’s fever broke and he’s out of the woods. I get up and head towards the consultation room. Rakwena’s fast asleep, breathing evenly. He has sprouted a thick layer of stubble and his hair has grown at least a millimetre. His blue glow is faint now, barely visible. I search the house but Ntatemogolo is nowhere in sight, so I rummage around in the kitchen and rustle up a simple breakfast of milky tea, white bread and margarine and a few eggs. I eat and take the rest to Rakwena.

His eyes open when I set the plate beside his mat.

“Hungry?”

He struggles to sit up and devours the food in seconds. I’m so relieved to see him sitting up. He’s still very weak, and he’s lost weight. Did he look this thin the last time I saw him? Surely I would have noticed…or maybe not. I offer to bring him more food, but he shakes his head. I nod. One step at a time.