te bang om my druppels spieg van sy gesig af te vie. “Ja of course, Ahnie.”
Hy issie convincing ie. I ask him just so, ek sê straight: “Hullo, are you the poelies?”
Kyghie, ek kan my lekke stêkgevriet hou wan ek wiet mos Linke is al klaa weg met ôsse goed, hy’tie skoot op hom, soe ôs is skoon.
Dai man hakkel soema: “N-n-no, Ahnie, I’m n-not the p-police.” En hy lag.
Wat is dan snaaks? “JY! Jy lag nou ’n bietjie te hard.”
“Huh?”
Op dai oemblik klop dai Al Green number “Let’s Stay Together” vannie Pulp Fiction sountrack yt Linke se boot yt: “I-I-I-I’m so in love with you, whatever you want to do …” En skielik is ek Samuel L. Jackson.
Ek vra die Coloured bra in my American accent: “Ahre ya sure ya frahm Jurassic Park?”
“Huh?”
“Say ‘Huh’ again. Say ‘huh’ again, I dare ya. I double dare ya mother–”
“Naai Ahnie, los dai man,” hoo ek vi Tigo agte my. Die Butcher Boys het ’n kring om ôs gemaak.
Ek kap an. “Lie tah me one more gahdahm time.” Ek gryp hom by sy bôs. “AHRE YA OR AHRE YA NAHT THE BOERE?”
Ek het vegiet vannie wit goose. Ek hettie gesien sy klim ytie kar ytie. Ek was soe in character, jy check. One-two-three druk sy deerie kring brasse en sy vat my gesig en drai it na haa toe. “Plees leef heem. I jest wunted heem to introdoosh mee to you!”
Die goose het mos ’n sexy accent, my broe. Naai, sy’sie vannie whities van hierie. Oh yes papa, sy’s vannie overseas! Sy dra Coke-brille en sy’t maa min lippe, but sy’s oulik. Remind my van Miss Honey in Matilda, dai sweet-en-innocent-teacher-next-door type.
Ek lat dai Coloured bra val net daa – gwa! Ek drai narie wit goose. “For what reason would God send an angel all the way down from heaven just to speak to me?” My sexy stem like it’s Denzel Washington, my broe!
It works, sy smile trug.
“Oh I’m not from heavin, I am frum de Nederlands.” Sy stiek haa hand yt na my toe. “I’m Cassie.”
Ek skyf haa hand weg en gie haa ’n hug. Ek dink: Yoh, die goose is mos ’n stywe-raver, sy moet bietjie relax.
“So your name is Kassie? This must be fate, I love kassies: koskassies, biesemkassies, bedside-kassies. You and me, we can kap our own kassie …”
“My name is Cassie, it’s short for Cassidy.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. So if you are Dutch Cassidy, can I be your Sundance Kid?”
Sy lyk nog surprised. “Oh wow, you know det movie?”
Wat dink sy dan? “Of course, I know all the movies.”
Sy raak soema excited. “Det’s great! Wee are making a feelm here, abouwt Cape Town and wee are looking for people from dis community to shtar in it. Would det be shumting you’d be interested in?”
Yoh, my broe! Wat? I couldn’t believe it! Ek vra haa: “Aweh, but now how do you then know I’m an actor?”
Sy sê toerie arme Coloured bra wat nog once oppie gron lê en biewe, het haa vetel van my. Yoh, my broe, ek tel dai man daa op.
“My best friend!” Ek vie die sand van sy klere af. “Yoh, naai, thank you, getuie man.”
Ek drai trug na Cassie. “Me and this man, we go way back, since we were small.” Ek sit my arm oo sy skoue en vra hom: “Kyghie, how’s it going with your mommy? Ask her if I must still bring her that fish.”
Die Coloured bra is confused. Voo hy noggie game weg kan gie, sê ek virrie Butcher Boys: “Manne, vattie ou gou in butchery toe en vra virrie gallie of sy nie ’n koppie suikewate vi hom kan organise nie, kanala.”
Cassie staan met haa hanne op haa hiepe. “So, Ahnwaar, wat do you tink? Do you want to be in a movie?”
Ek vryf my hand oo my six-pack. “Cassie-with-a-Kiss, I was born to be a star!”
Sy zip haa swat leather fanny-pack oep. Sy hal ’n camera yt, en ’n lens, en ’n separate flash. Naai, die mense is professionals. “Cen I tek shum photograafs of you and your friends to show de director in Los Angeles?” ’n Director, papa! Hollywood! My dreams were coming true.
Ek sê: “Aweh. That look like an expensive camera, don’t you think you taking chances bringing that here?”
Cassie se blou oë raak al wyer. Sy druk haa hand in haa moonbag, ek sienie boenste vanne blikkie pepper spray ytstiek. Ek smile vi haa. “Aren’t you scared my ugly face is gonna break your lens?”
Ek lag allien vi my flou joke. Cassie hal haa hand yt haa bag en sittit liggies op my bôs.
“Anwaar, I reelly love your look. You’re perfect.”
Ek voel soema hoe rys my kop! Toe staan ek en pose nou daa byterie butchery, voo hulle neon pink en geel posters wattie specials wys. Ek pose onnerie pink Baby back beef cuts sign met my rug narie camera but ek kyk soe to the side, op son toe. Naai, ek ken my angles.
Even Cassie het gesê: “Wow, Ahnwaar, you are so photogenic, darrling!” Sy’t photos vannie anne Butcher Boys oek gevat maa sy’t net vi my gevra vi close-ups van my gesig. I mos got a kwaai smile – al my eie tanne dié.
Toe sê Cassie vi my: “Okay des nice but now I want you to look right into da cemera like you are engry. Ja, ja, frown baby, yes … des it! Evil, ja … prachtig!”
Cassie kannie genoeg van my gekryritie. “Amazing! Wow, Anwaar, you are very hendshome!”
“Handsome? Thank you, people say I look like my mommy.”
2
MA MARY
Die Carol try om vi my vir ’n pop te vat, in ’n volle mall taxi. Kô vra vi my: “En toe, Mary, hoe voelit ommie ma vannie dywel te wies?” Sy kry my mos op ’n junk spot. Ek sit heel voo langsie driver en sy’s reg agte, maa ek kan haa sien innie rearview mirror.
Ek sê vi haa: “But jy’t mos ’n bleddie nerve! Wat moet ek an gedoenit? Ek’s mos oek ’n ma! Dais my kin dai!”
Die driver trekkie brakes. “Lyste, ek allow nie bakleiery in my van ie.”
“Amen,” sê Carol van daa agte.
Sy’t dan eeste met my begin. Ek bly maa stil wan ek wietie taxi drivers gooi ’n mens gou yt. Maa soes ôs anry wêk ek myself op, sy kan mos nooit my gesig soe lielik voo anne mense kô afwassie.
Ek kannie wag tot ôs byrie mall ytkommie soedat ek vi Carol byte kan kry. Ooh, my hanne jik. Ôs is ampe daa, ek wil net my earrings ythal, toe hoo ek hoe sing Carol van daa agte af: “By the ATM, please. Just there by the robots, driver.”
Ek wil saam haa daa afklim but, ag, what’s the point, daas baie security byrie ATM’s, soe hulle sal afkee.
Die robots is orange, ôs stop starag, ek maak soes ek praat mettie outjie wat langs my sit, maa ek praat hard soe ammel kan hoo: “Nee, sy gan nou wee ATM toe ommie foreign students se geld te trek. Ja, die universities betaal haa om kos te maak vi hulle students wat Africa, hie innie skiem, wil experience vir ’n weekend. But sy steel dai geld. Ammel wiet.”
Die robots is rooi. Carol sukkel mettie sliding door. “At least wêk ek vi my eie geld,” vetel sy my. Sy kry die dee oep. “En my wêk is legal.”
Ek sê vi haa: “Jy wat Carol is, ek hoep dai ATM machine sluk jou kaat in.”
“Wiet jy wat, nuh, Mary, ek bid vi jou.”
Die robots is al wee groen but dai vrou wiet mossie wanne om haa mond te hou ie.
“Elke