had and succeeded where others might have failed because she could read people. Her handler back in Chicago at the club before she left to become Mrs. Robert Griswold said she’d missed her calling. She should have been a professional poker player.
“You’re working a scam, aren’t you?”
“Scam? What do you mean?”
“You need that stock. You need it and you need time, and probably some other help, more options, I’ll bet, than you have your hands on right now, to pull off something.”
“What? Pull what off? What other stock?”
Brenda realized she’d hit pay dirt. Travis was up to something, and she’d bet her hottest red thong Leo didn’t know anything about it. “If I take the stock out of your hands, the deal goes south. Am I close?” Travis turned to leave. “Maybe I should talk to Leo. What do you think?” For a split second, Travis looked stricken. It was enough. “You want to buy me a drink and talk some business? Or do I have a chat with the boss man?” Brenda raised her eyebrows and smiled.
“In an hour, in the bar.” He growled, turned on his heel, and stalked away.
Brenda pumped her arm and whispered “Yes!”
***
Michael seemed stronger that evening. Perhaps the medicine was working, after all. Hope springs like new flowers in the desert after a rain. False or real, hope enabled Sanderson to endure.
“You are better, then?”
“I am feeling better, yes. Show me these tires you have achieved.”
“Can you walk?”
“For the HiLux, I can dance.” Michael shuffled his feet, lost his balance and staggered, and caught himself on the door jamb.
“You are not ready, Michael. You must rest.”
“No, I am fine, you see. I must see these wheels.”
It took a long time for him to walk outside to the court. He sat on its low wall to catch his breath. Sanderson pointed to the late Lovermore Ndlovu’s stolen property. Michael smiled, a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless. It was the first time he’d done so for months, it seemed.
“You were lucky. These will fit the truck. See, the number of mounting holes in the wheels is correct and we have the lug nuts.” Sanderson was not sure what lug nuts were, but she beamed. She couldn’t be sure what pleased her more, the acquisition of these wonderful wheels or seeing Michael up, smiling, and maybe a little better.
Michael stood and wrapped his hands around one of the wheels. He couldn’t lift it. He tried again and then collapsed on the wall, his face distraught.
“I cannot do this thing, Mma.”
“I will do it, but you must tell me how.”
Michael instructed her how to mount the wheels on the truck’s axles and tighten the down the nuts.
“Now we must ask Mr. Naledi for the loaning of a jack. We must lift this machine off of these blocks.”
“A jack?” Sanderson rummaged in the pile of equipment stacked at the side of the house. “Like this one?” She held up the other prize from her trip to Kazungula—Lovermore’s jack.
“Yes, like that. Is it another present from the police superintendent? He is a very generous man.”
“With other people’s property, yes.”
Several of the young men of the village had gathered to watch and offered to do the removal of the blocks for Mma Michael. It took longer than it might have, had Michael been able to do it alone. There was a great deal of competition among the boys for leadership, and then there were disagreements as to which wheel and which side should be lowered first. In the end the HiLux stood on its own four wheels, dented, rusted in spots and still missing a few parts, but in Sanderson’s eyes the most beautiful machine in the country.
“We must ask if Mr. Naledi has a fender we can beat into shape for the right front, and then we must paint it,” Michael said. Sanderson shook her head and tried to hide the tears streaming down her face.
“I would like a red bakkie ,” she said.
“You should paint it that color, then.” Michael slumped
“You’re working a scam, aren’t you?”
“Scam? What do you mean?”
“You need that stock. You need it and you need time, and probably some other help, more options, I’ll bet, than you have your hands on right now, to pull off something.”
“What? Pull what off? What other stock?”
Brenda realized she’d hit pay dirt. Travis was up to something, and she’d bet her hottest red thong Leo didn’t know anything about it. “If I take the stock out of your hands, the deal goes south. Am I close?” Travis turned to leave. “Maybe I should talk to Leo. What do you think?” For a split second, Travis looked stricken. It was enough. “You want to buy me a drink and talk some business? Or do I have a chat with the boss man?” Brenda raised her eyebrows and smiled.
“In an hour, in the bar.” He growled, turned on his heel, and stalked away.
Brenda pumped her arm and whispered “Yes!”
***
Michael seemed stronger that evening. Perhaps the medicine was working, after all. Hope springs like new flowers in the desert after a rain. False or real, hope enabled Sanderson to endure.
“You are better, then?”
“I am feeling better, yes. Show me these tires you have achieved.”
“Can you walk?”
“For the HiLux, I can dance.” Michael shuffled his feet, lost his balance and staggered, and caught himself on the door jamb.
“You are not ready, Michael. You must rest.”
“No, I am fine, you see. I must see these wheels.”
It took a long time for him to walk outside to the court. He sat on its low wall to catch his breath. Sanderson pointed to the late Lovermore Ndlovu’s stolen property. Michael smiled, a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless. It was the first time he’d done so for months, it seemed.
“You were lucky. These will fit the truck. See, the number of mounting holes in the wheels is correct and we have the lug nuts.” Sanderson was not sure what lug nuts were, but she beamed. She couldn’t be sure what pleased her more, the acquisition of these wonderful wheels or seeing Michael up, smiling, and maybe a little better.
Michael stood and wrapped his hands around one of the wheels. He couldn’t lift it. He tried again and then collapsed on the wall, his face distraught.
“I cannot do this thing, Mma.”
“I will do it, but you must tell me how.”
Michael instructed her how to mount the wheels on the truck’s axles and tighten the down the nuts.
“Now we must ask Mr. Naledi for the loaning of a jack. We must lift this machine off of these blocks.”
“A jack?” Sanderson rummaged in the pile of equipment stacked at the side of the house. “Like this one?” She held up the other prize from her trip to Kazungula—Lovermore’s jack.
“Yes, like that. Is it another present from the police superintendent? He is a very generous man.”
“With other people’s property, yes.”
Several of the young men of the village had gathered to watch and offered to do the removal of the blocks for Mma Michael. It took longer than it might have, had Michael been able to do it alone. There was a great deal of competition among the boys for leadership, and then there were disagreements as to which wheel and which side should be lowered first. In the end the HiLux stood on its own four wheels, dented, rusted in spots and still missing a few parts, but in Sanderson’s eyes the most beautiful machine in the country.
“We must ask if Mr. Naledi has a fender we can beat into shape for the right front, and then we must paint it,” Michael said. Sanderson shook her head and tried to hide the tears streaming down her face.
“I would like a red bakkie ,” she said.
“You should paint it that color, then.” Michael slumped
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