He took out the cell phone, held it in front of him, and keyed in the number.
Its ringing, he said.
Wait! screamed Mentz.
I have waited enough, he said.
I will get the boy.
Please hold on, he said over the phone, and then to Mentz: I am waiting.
He saw Mazibuko turn away from him.
You stay here, he said, but Mazibuko did not hear. He was walking toward the exit, and Thobela saw something in the set of the shoulders that he understood.
You have two choices in life, he said so only he could hear it. You can be a victim. Or not.
Then he saw Pakamile and the child saw him, and the moment threatened to overcome him completely.
* * *
The white Mercedes-Benz stopped at the traffic lights and one of the street hawkers with packs of white plastic clothes hangers and sunshades for cars and little brown teddy bears knocked on the window and the driver let it slide down electronically.
The hard drive is safe, said the driver, not in his native Zulu tongue but in English. Not in our possession, but I believe it is absolutely secure.
I will pass it on, said the hawker.
Allah Akhbar, said the small man, his delicate fingers relaxed on the steering wheel, and then the light changed to green up ahead and he put the car in gear.
Allah Akhbar, said the hawker, God is great, and watched the car drive away.
The driver switched on the radio as the announcer said, And here is the new one from David Kramer, singing with his new find, Koos Kok, The Ballad of the Lonely Motorbike Rider
He smiled and ran a finger under the snow-white shirt collar to relieve the pressure a fraction against the small hump.
* * *
Reverend Lawrence Mpayipheli was busy searching for the ripest tomatoes and snipping them loose with the pruning shears, the scent of the cut stems full in his nose, the plump firmness of the red fruit under his fingers, when he heard the engine before the door and stood up stiffly from behind the high green bushes. There were two of them on the motorbike, a big man and a little boy and he thought,
It cant be,
and he prayed just a short
Lord, please,
aloud, there in the middle of the vegetable garden. He waited for them to take off the hard hats so he could be sure, so he could call his wife in the clear voice that could reverberate across the backyards of Alice like the ringing of a church bell.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As usual, I am indebted to so many people and sources who contributed to this book. I can never thank you enough.
The Afrikaans Language and Culture Societys grant made it possible to take the GS on most of the routes described in the book and do a motorcycle tour of the Kat River valley and research in Grahamstown.
Lisa Ncetani and the long, long list of Xhosa, Zulu, Tswana, Sotho, and Ndebele copassengers on business flights between Cape Town and Johannesburg, shop attendants, shoeshine men, taxi drivers, and porters: thank you for answering my questions so patiently and helping a white Afrikaner understand a little better.
One of the more unsettling discoveries during the research was how little material is available about the more recent Xhosa lifestyle, culture, and history especially on the Internet. But Timothy Stapletons
Maqoma Xhosa Resistance to Colonial Advance
(Jonathan Ball, 1994) and Noël Mosterts excellent
Frontiers
(Pimlico, 1992) were two indispensable sources.
Dr. Julia C. Wells, historian at the University of Grahamstown, provided insightful information and comments on the history and development of the short stabbing spear, or
assegai.
Muneer Manie helped with the Arabic, and Ronnie Kasrilss book
Armed & Dangerous
(Mayibuye, 1993,1998) was a similarly rich source of information on Umkhonto we Sizwe and the role of the East Germans and Soviet Russia during the Struggle.
Intriguing and stimulating conversations with the late Reverend Harwood Dixon, who was a missionary in the Eastern Cape for many years, and the enigmatic Professor Dap Louw from the University of the Free States Psychology Department had a great influence on the characters in the book. Similarly, I am indebted to Stephen Pinkers
How the Mind Works
(W W Norton & Company, 1997), John L. Castis
Paradigms Regained
(Abacus, 2000), Richard Dawkinss
River Out of Eden
(Phoenix, 2001), Desmond Morriss
The Naked Eye
(Ebury Press, 2000), Brian Mas-terss ever re-readable
The Evil That Men Do
(Black Swan, 1996), and Geoffrey Millers excellent
The Mating Mind
(Vintage, 2001).
I constantly made use of the Internet archives of
Die Burger, Beeld,
and
Die Volksblad.
Other websites that provided essential information were Kalshnikov (www.kalashnikov.guns.ru), Valery Shilins Gun Club (www.club.guns.ru), the U.S. Marines (www.hqmc.usmc.mil), Denel (www.denel.co.za), Heckler & Koch (www.heckler-koch.de), Frikkie Potgieters rich source on the SADF and SANDF (http://members.tripod.com/samagte/index. html), Frans Nels Griekwa Afrikaans (www.ugie.co.za), the Intelligence Resource Program (FAS) (www.fas.org), and the Central Intelligence Agency (www.cia.gov).
To my agent in London, Isobel Dixon: thank you for not giving up on finding a U.S. publisher. To my American editor, Judy Clain: thank you for believing and for this incredible opportunity.
And to the worlds best copyeditor, Stephen H. Lamont: thank you for that magic blue pencil.
Finally, to my wife, Anita: without your love, support, and faith, this would not have happened.
Deon Meyer
Melkbosstrand
March 2004
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Deon Meyer is a freelance strategic consultant in Cape Town, South Africa. He started his career as a newspaper reporter and worked at the University of the Free State, in advertising and Internet strategy, before starting his own company in 2000. He lives in Melkbosstrand with his wife, Anita, and their four children. His Afrikaans novels have been translated into English, French, German, Dutch, Italian, Czech, and Bulgarian. He has won the ATKV literary prize twice, the French Le Grand Prix de Littérature Poli-cičre in 2003, and has been shortlisted for the Sunday Times Fiction Award and M-Net Literary Award. He is passionate about Mozart, cooking, Free State and Springbok rugby, and BMW motorcycles.
