Mango II: The Return

Chapter Three.

Mango
Sunday

I wasn't able to move, blink or even breathe for a few minutes. I was staring at this dog and I couldn't think of anything. I dropped my bags right in front of the bedroom door and headed back into the kitchen, with Nkateko following closely behind me. I opened the cutlery drawer and took out a butcher knife. "Wait. What are you doing?" Nkateko slightly panicked.

"It's really nothing." I forcibly closed the drawer and pushed Nkateko to one side while I continued to make my way to Bafana. He was standing in the passageway, towel wrapped around his waist and dripping water like he was some god. Before I could lodge the knife into his chest where his heart should be beating, Nkateko grabbed my wrist and turned it around, twisting my arm so it was behind my back. She applied pressure until I let go of the knife.

Bafana found the interaction funny. He let out a chuckle before shoving Nkateko and I to one side and walking into the guest room, locking the door behind him. If looks could kill Bafana would have been killed while being dead.

I clicked my tongue, grabbed my bags and went into Nkateko's room. You would ask yourself why I didn't just grab my stuff and head out, go back to my apartment and be alone, away from this rapist. If you really gave it some thought I was safer here than there. Ever heard of the saying, 'Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.'? If I were to leave Bafana would freelance at my place and do whatever he pleased. But staying here, he'd be right under my nose, under Nkateko's supervision.

I huffed as I threw myself on the bed. I heard the door close before it was locked. I didn't even bother opening my eyes to see what was going on. "What happened back there?" She finally asked. Was I going to tell her? If I wanted her on my side then I definitely had to tell her. "Are you going to speak anytime soon?" Annoyance evident in her voice.

I opened my eyes and sat up straight. I looked out the window that had the view of another block of flats. "Do you know he escaped from prison?" I looked at her, waiting for her response. She nodded her head. Stupid if you ask me. "Do you know why?" I asked and she shook her head. "It's because he wants to see his child."

Nkateko laughed a little. If you held me at gun point and asked me why she laughed I wouldn't be able to give you an answer that made sense. "Don't be silly. Bafana doesn't have kids. He doesn't even have a girlfriend. He hasn't had one since I had began varsity." She said as she thought.

Yeah, that's why he went around raping young girls. He couldn't pull any for himself.

"Busi isn't Khaya's biological child." As I said that she froze, her mouth agape like a fish out of water. "I was seventeen. I was homeless. I met Khaya's father who forced me to meet Khaya. We got to know each other and everything was fine. Until his girlfriend returned and beat the hell out of me cause she thought I was sleeping with Khaya." I laughed at the thought. I thought I was going to die that day.

Continuing, "I landed up in hospital. Khaya somehow found my father. A father I had never met in my life. Khaya left me in the care of my father. The very same father who took me and sold me to the highest bidder. But, the night before I was sold I met Bafana. He finished me that night. He raped the living daylights out of me that I couldn't walk the next day, or the day after that." I willed myself not to cry.

I was staring at Nkateko while telling her this sappy and disgusting story. A tear fell from her right eye. She wiped it away just as fast as it came. I, on the other hand, had no more tears left to cry. "A few days later Khaya and I crossed paths again. We solved our issues out. We then found out I was pregnant with Bafana's child. We raised her and Khaya decided to adopt her."