The Other Side of Truth by Beverley Naidoo Page B

here is mine!” he growled like an old lion defending his den. His eyes were concealed under a hat but they had heard enough. There was not the slightest chance of retrieving their bag. They fled.
    Rucksacks bumping on their backs, they kept running.The man stayed in his alley but the terror followed them as they ran along a dimly lit parade. They were both panting by the time they reached the only brightly lit shop. It displayed posters of videos and a large sign saying OPEN UNTIL 11 P.M. ! Breathing heavily, they pushed open the glass door and made for a corner as far as possible from the counter. For a minute or so they stood rooted to the floor, trying to calm down. Around them were shelves of videos. Instead of James Bond, Superman or any other video star, however, Sade still saw the terrifying Darth Vader of the alley looming up above them, his arm sweeping away their holdall. What would he do with their clothes? What would he do with the beautiful aso-oke Mama had made for her with its own matching bag? A bag with a broken lining. Mama’s present had barely survived the customs officer’s scissors only to be seized by a stranger in a stinking alley. What kind of place had they come to?
    Femi dug Sade in the ribs and jutted his chin toward the back of the shop. A man was eyeing them from behind the counter.
    “Can I help you?” he asked loudly. He didn’t sound as if he wanted to be helpful. Sade pursed her lips together. What could she say? The kind of help they needed was impossible. Mama would have understood how hopeless it was. She would have summed it up with one of her proverbs.
    Even the best cooking pot will not produce food by itself .
    Of course they needed help!
    “I said, can I help you?” Video Man repeated, a little more loudly and abruptly. Sade lingered a few seconds before extending her hand to her brother.
    “Come on, Femi,” she murmured and turned toward the door. But at that moment the door was flung open and four boys with dark glasses and woolly hats pulled down low over their foreheads burst inside. Shouting and swearing, they sent video boxes flying off the shelves, then kicked the stands. Sade and Femi cowered back into the corner. The boys ignored them. Two of them ripped the posters from the window alongside the children. Laughing, they tore them into pieces. Video Man grabbed his telephone. He rasped out a message to the police. But as soon as he had slammed down the receiver and lifted the counter bar to chase his intruders, they darted back out into the street.
    “That’ll teach you to mess with our mates!” the last one to leave yelled at Video Man. He punched the air as if they had just scored a goal. Seconds later a sharp crack shattered the front window. Sade and Femi had remained riveted in their corner, almost in a stupor. First Darth Vader of the alley, now this! But the sound of the crack, followed by glass splintering, sent Sade’s mind spinning.
    Grabbing Femi’s hand, she bolted toward the door. They had to be well out of the way when the police came. But Video Man got there before them and thrust his key into the lock.
    “Don’t think you’re getting away with this!” he puffed grimly. His face glowed a furious red.
    “I know how you kids work together! Sent you in as decoys, didn’t they? Distracting me, so I didn’t see ’em coming! Well, you can tell your story to the police!”

CHAPTER 11
POLICE BUSINESS AND COOL GAZE
    THERE IS A GREAT BANGING and rattling on the iron gates. They have finished eating dinner and are watching television. Papa hurries to the window, draws back the curtain just a little and peers out through the bars on the window. The sky is dark but lights are flashing above the gates .
    “Police! Police! Open de door! Open de door! I say open de door!”
    “Oh my God! What have they come for now, Folarin?” Mama runs across the sitting room and puts out her hand to grip Papa’s shoulder .
    “Open am! Open am! Or we go break dis