INSERT 11
SABELO
“Damn you, kid!” Austin, my colleague who is like a brother to me exclaims. I look at Astrid and I’m unable to figure out where her emotions and mind are at this moment. On her left side is Michael who looks impressed. “Astrid?” Austin taps her on the shoulder.
“Who are you, kid?” Astrid’s lips curve into a smile. I breathe out in relief and finally relax. I have been holding my breath ever since I arrived at the office. “This is gold! I want to ask you if you obtained these legally, but I know you didn’t so I won’t ask.”
“So, you don’t mind the route I have taken with this case?”
“Do I mind? No. Am I worried, yes. You are playing dirty and it tends to be dangerous. I don’t want to lose you, we need you.” I don’t like it when she becomes emotional. She is like a big sister to all of us and it’s always hard to ignore her emotions.
“I won’t die, they won’t kill me. I will make them need me,” I tell them.
“How?” they chorus.
“Let me meet with the lawyers Nomvula referred me to first, then I will come back to you guys. This will work and it will be done sooner than it can be done should we go with it the honest way.” I don’t know who I am convincing. Them or myself, but that doesn’t matter. I just want them to trust me with this.
“Okay. Always keep your location on,” Michael says. “We will push your other cases while you finish this.”
“Thank you,” I say and mean it.
“Okay then,” Astrid breathes out. “Go and make me proud.”
*****
I drive through the gate of the address Nomvula gave me. The place looks unsafe to house people but the cars parked here are proof that there are people inside the building. There are no signs to show where visitors should park their cars so I just find a better looking space and park. I take my phone, turn it on and connect it to my laptop back at home to record everything that is about to transpire and get down the car. I check if my gun is tucked in properly and lock the car. This place is so unkept that even the air in the atmosphere smells stale. It is the kind of an environment that can have one suffocating to death.
It’s a miracle that the automated sliding door still works. I walk in and another shocker is that the air conditioning system is also functional. The inside of the building looks way better than the outside.
“Good afternoon and welcome to the Mulaudzi and Co Attorneys,” an elderly lady behind the reception desk greets.
“Good afternoon, Ma’am. I’m here for Advocate Mulaudzi, we have an appointment,” I tell her.
“Your name, Sir?”
“Sabelo Mseleku.”
She types something on the desktop and looks at the screen for a moment before looking back at me.
“Follow me,” she says and I’m glad that I don’t have to wait. I don’t like waiting for people when I could be doing something better with my life.
She leads me along the corridor and stops in front of the door that is at the far end of the corridor on the left. She knocks and someone giggles inside before we are told to come in. The receptionist lady pushes the door open and we walk in just as some sluttishly dressed young lady fixes her top. I don’t even know why she’s fixing it because her breasts are still out for everyone to see. The room also smells like scented condoms and sex. Who has sex in the office just before an appointment with a client?
“Mr Mseleku,” Advocate Mulaudzi greets.
“Mr Mulaudzi,” I greet back. The two ladies excuse us and close the door on their way out.
“How can I help you? You said it was urgent,” he sounds so full of himself but that’s okay. We will fix this attitude of his.
“I want the Mzolos’ wills,” I go straight to the point.
“What? Why?” he sounds and looks alarmed.
“The original ones, please. I need them urgently.”
“How did you find me? They are not here, please leave,” he’s already on his feet but I remain seated.
“I’m not leaving without what I came here for.”
“I’m calling the police on you for trespassing—”
“You really don’t look stupid, but if you want to look stupid in front of the police, call them. I booked an appointment so this meeting can be formal, you can’t turn around and call me a trespasser. You are smarter than that.”
“Please go, I can’t help you.”
“Fine, I will go but I want you to see this first,” I say as I take my phone out of my pocket. I go to gallery and play a video for him. I watch as his eyes bulge, almost popping out of their sockets. Beads of sweat form on his forehead and his lips turn ashy-white.
“You..you…” he stammers.
“Do you have the wills?”
He dejectedly sits down and stares at me.
“I have enough to can make a thousand dollars in a day on Onlyfans—”
“Please, you can’t do this to me. I have a wife and kids, this will destroy them. Come on, you are a man, a husband and a father. Surely you can relate. These women mean nothing, I love my wife. I love my wife, man.”
It must be my wedding band that gives him the impression that I’m married. This idiot didn’t even Google me, what a stupid lawyer. How do you agree to meet with someone you don’t know.
“First, I don’t relate to having kids. Second, my wife is dead so I couldn’t care less about hurting yours. So no, the moral blackmail won’t work on me. Just give me the wills and you will never have to see my face ever again.”
“They will kill me man,” he’s tearing up and I hate a weak man.
“I will humiliate you and you will die of your own shame. Which way would you like to die?”
“What’s in it for you? Why are you doing this? No lawyer have ever wanted to help her. Are you screwing her?”
“I just told you that my wife is dead and I wouldn’t equate my life to sex. I’m doing this because at some point, people have to be reminded that they are not all that. Feeling mighty after bullying a child shouldn’t be something a man should be proud of. Where I come from, you fight your age mates to be glorified, you don’t bully people and be glorified. You are giving that wimp too much credit.”
“He is not a wimp! They killed someone, I saw him die!”
“Why haven’t they killed her if they desperately want to hold on to her inheritance? Wouldn’t that be easy?”
“There’s a clause on both her parents’ wills that should she pass on, everything should go to charity,” he says and regrets it instantly. “Please go, you will get us all killed.”
“I don’t mind dying, you do. So, do us all a favour and give me what I want. But before I leave, I have a few questions. I checked with the deeds office and all the houses are still owned by her parents. I also checked the cars, they are still owned by them. Why is that? Shouldn’t that man have already transferred them?”
“He can’t.”
“What’s holding him back?”
“The Letter of Authority that he has grants him control over the properties but denies him the right to change ownership or sell any of the properties. He is more like a caretaker. He also doesn’t have access to the company accounts. He only gets the money that is supposed to go to Nomvelo. He only enjoys staying in a beautiful house, driving different cars and his girlfriend stays in Nomvelo’s apartments since he can’t kick out tenants in other properties.”
“What is his end goal?”
“I don’t know, man. Maybe he’s waiting for her to die, I really don’t know.”
“Her death won’t benefit him in anything. There must be something he is up to.”
“The only person who can sign things over to him is Nomvelo and we both know that she won’t do that. I really don’t know what he’s up to. Please leave me out of this.”
“Just give me the wills and I will be out of here.”
“You will delete those videos?”
“Yes, when I’m done and she is free from all of you.”
“I will courier it—”
“No. I’m not walking out of here without them.”
*****
ZIPHOZONKE
I have been mulling over Sabelo’s proposal and my heart of hearts does not want to agree to this. What happens to my son when I die? What happens to him when his father dies? Does he get a share of his father’s estate? What if he gets remarried and forgets about my son? I know I messed up, but I have to try and secure my son’s future. I will counter this proposal with my own terms and conditions. My sons future has to be secured.
I pick my phone from the table and dial Sabelo. I have his number, don’t ask me how I got it. It rings unanswered. I call again and he answers.
“My lawyers didn’t make it clear to you that you will only communicate with them?”
“Please, I just want clarity and I know you can enlighten me.”
“I’m busy Zipho—”
“Why are you avoiding me? Do you still have feelings for me?”
He laughs—a laugh that’s but a mockery and I feel sick in the deepest pit of my stomach.
“I haven’t had sex ever since my wife passed on and I can promise you that I won’t have a hard on even if I were to walk in on you naked.”
“You are lying!”
“There’s nothing attractive about you Zipho. All the feelings I had for you died the day I saw you for a slut that you are. After that day, you never even crossed my mind, not even as a bitter memory.”
Tears burn my eyes. I knew he hated me, but not this much. I can feel the disgust in his voice.
“I’m sorry—”
“What do you need clarity on, Ziphozonke?” Sthembiso hates me but sometimes he pretends to like me and speaks to me nicely. Sabelo is not even trying to be nice.
“What happens to my son when you die?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean financially.”
“I will be providing for this child monthly, he will be part of my medical aid, that automatically makes him my dependant and you can claim from my estate when I die.”
“Okay. Will you pay inhlawulo for him?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Why don’t you ask the man you chose to be the father to your child that question? You left for years and you want to come back and disrupt my life? No, it won’t happen, Zipho. Like I said before, I don’t mind giving up my rights as a father to that boy. The ball is in your court and let this be the last time you call me. I have no desire to interact with you in any sphere of my life,” he ends the call.
I feel like someone just punched me on the stomach, pissed and spit on my face. I blink away my tears. I look at the sandwich in front of me and I have lost my appetite already.
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INSERT 12
NOMVULA
I promised myself and Sabelo that I won’t cry. I meant it but after setting up my phone, I logged into my Instagram and my profile looks like it belongs to some stranger. I don’t recognise the happy and chatty girl on these videos and her smile is something I don’t remember. Almost every video I ever posted, I mentioned my dad or my mom at least three times. I envy the smile that spreads on this girl’s face whenever she mentions her parents. I love how she’s lazy but when it comes to a push, she gets to business.
My head hurts from all the crying and my sinuses are misbehaving. I left everything including my nasal spray at the centre so I have to suck it up. I hear the door opening and I jump from the couch. I’m about to hide behind the coach when Sabelo announces his presence.
“Nomvula, it’s me,” he says.
“Oh, it’s you,” I relax.
“Who did you think it was? No one can access this house without my permission, that person will have to be Lwandle Ngcobo or his mentor.”
“Who is Lwandle Ngcobo?”
“A genius guy I read about on the dark web. He somehow influenced my desire to study IT and be good at it… Wait, you were crying?”
“N..no,” I stutter. I thought I had mastered the art of hiding my pain—not showing the world what I’m feeling but I’m failing dismally. “I wasn’t crying, I promise,” just then a stray tear embarrasses me. He puts his laptop bag down together with the McDonald’s takeaway bag and opens his arms for me. I don’t hesitate flying into them. He hugs me tight just as my lips quiver and I break into painful sobs. He let me cry my heart out, keeps me in his arms until I feel a bit calmer. I slowly untangle myself from him and move to the couch shamefacedly.
“You don’t have to be ashamed because of your tears. Crying doesn’t make you weak, it makes you human,” he earns a smile from me.
“Are you quoting me?” I raise my eyebrow.
“It’s the truth,” he shrugs. I said the exact same words to him back at the centre when he kept blinking away his tears whenever he spoke about his wife. “I came here to ask you a few questions about the case but you are not in a good mood, so let’s get you fed and try to cheer you up.”
“You remembered that I love McDonald’s,” I note.
“I pay attention to detail, that’s why I am a lawyer.”
“I see. Should I dish up for you too?”
“No. I already ate and I don’t like chicken.”
“What did chicken do to you?”
“Nothing, really. I just don’t like it.”
I sit on the couch and start eating.
“Someone is staying in my apartment, a slayqueen of some sort,” I tell him and he just stares. I know I promised not to snoop but curiosity got the better of me. I wanted to know what is going on with my parents’ assets. “I didn’t give away my location, I promise. I logged into my cloud server, saved a few pictures of my apartment and my parents’ house. I did a picture search on Google and I was shocked to see my apartment there. Most of the deco is still the same but my pictures were replaced. That lady has turned my apartment into hers!”
“So, what are you going to do about it?”
“Huh?”
“You looked for things that will make you sad and angry without a plan? That’s a stupid thing to do because what will you do with this anger now?”
“I just wanted to know what’s going on.”
“I understand,” he sighs. “I got the original wills,” he says and I don’t know whether to scream in joy or just sit here and admire him for the work he has done already. I never saw my parents’ wills, they were hidden from me as if I’m going to steal them when I have a right to see them.
“Are they going to help us?” my heart is pounding in my chest as I think about the doors these wills can open for me. Doors that were closed on my face by my very own family.
“I know now that the wills are keeping you alive. If you happen to die, everything will go to charity—”
“What?”
“Yes. You are a sole dependent and no one has come forward to claim anything from their estates. It’s been years which means the estate can now be released to you. Also, your uncle cannot sell or change ownership of any of the properties, he only can look after them. He gets maintenance money and the money that is supposed to go to you. That’s all he has.”
“Okay, this sounds interesting. What now? What are we supposed to do?”
“Eat your food and let me worry about that.”
“Okay, I trust you. And to think you wanted to unalive yourself, who was going to help me?” I tease him.
“It’s a good thing that rope wasn’t strong,” we both laugh. “What happened to your maternal family?”
“My uncle banned them from visiting or talking to me.”
“Did you ever question why?”
“My aunts wanted me to claim my inheritance and he made me believe that they were after my inheritance. I believed him and started pushing them away. I hate myself for that.”
“You have to forgive yourself so you start healing.”
“I’m trying.”
“Good. This is not part of job description but can I take you out to get your mind off things?”
“I would love to feel alive and normal again. Where to?”
“Let’s keep it a surprise,” he smiles.
He leaves after telling me a bit about his progress and that my uncle is looking for me already. I’m scared of him but I have a feeling that he won’t kill me, not now when he knows that I’m coming for what’s rightfully mine.
*****
SABELO
Working from home is nice and all until you want to print something out and remember that your printer hasn’t worked in months. You turn it on and it tells you about updating the software and all. I suck it up and update everything. I click on print and the damn thing takes forever to print. I need to buy myself a new and faster printer.
I’m still busy working when I receive an email from my lawyers letting me know that Ziphozonke is willing to accept the offer but she has a request. Her request is that she continues using the Junior name. I don’t care about the Junior name, I care about my name that she attached to that Junior. They can continue calling him that, they can even name him Junior Jesus, I really don’t care. If one could wish some things or people away, I would wish to have never met Ziphozonke. That way I wouldn’t be dealing with this mess. I don’t know why the universe never sends you the right one from the onset, is it always a must to kiss a few nondindwas before meeting the one?
I give them permission to grant the request. I also instruct them to get a signed deal that is accompanied by a Non-disclosure Agreement. Ziphozonke is not disclose my relationship or whatever this is that I have with her son. She is also to refrain from posting anything that has my name on it. I don’t hate what her egg and my sperm produced, I just hate—infact hate is way too mild a word to use when describing my feelings towards Ziphozonke, I loathe her entire existence.
I shift my mind to something positive. She doesn’t deserve to occupy my mind, not even for a millisecond. My phone vibrates just as I’m gearing up for more work. Ever since I distanced myself from family, my life has been all work and nothing else. I even forgot about my hobby. I need to get my groove back and do things that pump my adrenaline.
“Sabelo speaking,” I answer.
“B..Bhuti Sabelo, there… there are people at the door…” Nomvula’s voice fades on the other side of the call just as it echoes in my head…
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