Chapter 4:

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic

Reads: 174


Bianca is worried about her mother. She stands in front of the mirror, squeezes a pimple. “Oh, no, another one!” She puts her tongue in her cheek. 'She never talks to me any more, doesn't seem to notice me. I wonder if she is going through menopause?'

  The teenagers are planning to go to the Blue Tangerine again tonight. They have gone a few times already, and it has been amazing. 'So great to dance under the lights, oh, and the cool music! Where have I been all these years? It's the best!'

  She pulls the skin under her eyebrow, plucks the fine stray hairs. 'I wonder if I should put a mask on my nose?' Her clothes are neatly set out on the bed, incongruous with the messy room. Her styling iron is plugged in, ready to smooth her hair into shiny silk.

  The phone rings, it is Kobus. He sounds apologetic.

  “I'm so sorry, but I won't be able to make it tonight. My Mom is also going out, so I won't be able to get the car... the truth is that I am actually gated, my Math results were not great. I'll phone you again, okay? Love you.” He sends kisses over the phone. “You're sexy, remember that!”

  Bianca smiles, but feels disappointed when she throws  her Blackberry down on the bed. “Oh no, what now?” She has been looking forward to dancing, all week!

  She grabs the phone again and phones Cindy.

  “I can't believe it, what shall we do! Michael phoned me too. What is going on with our boyfriends?”

  “Don't know, I especially bought a new shiny top.”

  “Oh no! But..” Cindy whispers secretively..“I have a plan!” “What?” says Bianca, and wiggles her booty, checks her move in the mirror, “tell me quickly.”

  Bianca sneaks out of the house, calls out “Bye,” whilst her mother is on the computer, and walks down the road, where she meets Cindy. She doffs the helmet that Cindy brought, swings her leg over the bike, and holds on tightly to her friend.

  The scooter refuses to start, and Cindy pushes the starter button a few times. “Get off,” she says. “It's because of the cold.” She steps on the kick starter, once, twice. The bike responds.  “Take two!!” They giggle and Bianca jumps on again. “Let's gooo!”

  There is a crowd at the Blue Tangerine already. The girls feel out of things in the absence of their boyfriends, so they stand a little apart, dance with each other, their eyes big, their young faces white under the lights. Quite a few boys ask them to dance, but they shake their heads, no!

  Bianca feels insecure. A big overweight chap with oily hair and many pimples on his nose comes across to them, and rudely grabs her arm.

  “What makes you so special, hey, dance with me Sweet Thing!” Bianca pushes his hand away. A tall skinny oke with low slung black jeans, a lip ring, and a cigarette in his mouth comes and stands next to him.

  “So, this one is mine then?” He caresses Cindy's face, and strokes her hair. “Go away!” she says, “I have a boyfriend, just go away!” He grabs her shoulder, she pushes him against his chest. “Let me go, I said!”

  Two couples close by stare at them, look away again disinterestedly. The music is suddenly too loud, and the girls have lost their desire to be at the club.

  “Let's go, we can buy a milkshake somewhere else, what do you think?” says Bianca. Her voice trembles.

  “Cool, this place doesn't do it for me. Pigs!!”

  They arrive at the parking lot. The scooter is parked to one side. They put their helmets on. Cindy kick starts the bike, once, twice. She hears Bianca scream, turns around and sees the big guy that harassed her previously. He has one hand on Bianca's behind, the other on her breast. Her new top is torn, and her eyes are large and black with fear. The tall guy is just behind him, and comes towards Cindy, his jeans now swinging dangerously low.

Cindy kicks the starter again, and the bike roars to life. “Bianca, juuump!! Bianca looks up sees what is happening and breaks free jumps on, Cindy opens the accelerator wide keeps her feet on the ground makes a neat circle and speeds out of the gate where she hoots loudly before entering the main road. She stops a few blocks further, and rests her head on the handlebars. Bianca still clutches her tightly. They sit like that for a while, frightened and bemused. “Forget the milkshake,” says Bianca, “I want to be home now!”

Frans has finished the extra drawings. He sms'd that girl and told her he would be late. He couldn't go to the Blue Tangerine the last few weeks, because the workload was overwhelming, and the bosses complained that he was holding up the projects.

  He pops a chewing gum stick into his mouth. “A man's breath is important.” He walks to the black BMW, runs his hand over the door lovingly. “We have a date tonight!”

  He speeds through the city, and turns in at the entrance of the club. Climbs out of his car just as two disreputable young men take turns sucking on a dagga zol in the parking lot. He overhears part of the conversation.

  “I wonder who they think they are, silly little girls! Much too upstairs. I like the blond, I'll get her next time.” “How do you like the moves? Classic Thelma and Louise!”




Mika looks at her exhibition with satisfaction. Her pictures are well illuminated. The self portrait with the  head scarf and smile is right at the door.

  'A kind of a welcome,' she thinks amusedly.

  She looks exceptional in tight black pants, with a cream coloured chemise, and long velvet dark green jacket with special Paua shell buttons. Her shiny hair hangs loose, with a clip at the back, and tendrils around her face. She did her makeup carefully, and in the soft light her beauty is timeless. Her black leather Italian boots have a low heel, so she knows that she will be okay with all the standing this evening. She is surrounded by the fragrance of her favourite perfume.

  The small tables in the tea garden are decorated with lamps and flowers. She is serving butternut soup, with freshly baked breads and rolls, and sherry, just something small for the guests who come to view her work.

  She stands at the door as people start arriving, hugs and kisses the ones she knows well. Her father has already arrived in the afternoon, and is staying over at her flat. He met up with Johanna earlier, and they are standing with their heads together in a corner.

  Johanna has had blond hi lites put in her silver hair, which makes her appear much younger. She looks surprisingly sophisticated in her black slim fitting dress, with red high heels, and dangling earrings. She listens intently to Niklaas, nods her head from time to time.

  He is very handsome in corduroy pants, a new shirt, cravat and moleskin jacket. His hair is combed back, his beard freshly trimmed, close to his face, like a lawyer.

  Adri is in the tea garden, overseeing the tables. She looks wan and cast down. Mika notices that she has bags under her eyes.She glances across the piazza at the restaurant. 'Of course, it's Friday again.'  The musicians are outside, chatting. 'I suppose they are between sets.'

  The tall man ambles over with a long legged stride. He is wearing a blue polo neck jersey which accentuates his deep set eyes. His thick black hair with silver strands hangs around his shoulders. His face crinkles in a smile. 

  “Good evening Madam!” he says gallantly, takes her hand and kisses it. “What's going on here?”

  “It is my annual exhibition. Would you like to stroll through?”

  “Wait, just one more set. My friend can sing his own songs for the last set, he is really good.”

  The next hour passes slowly. The guests enjoy her work,  the food. A few paintings sell, and Mika is delighted. Even so her heart is not with the proceedings, and she finds herself gazing longingly out the door. She is called away to the kitchen, and when she returns she sees the tall man standing at her self portrait, studying it intently. He turns around and sees her.

  “Let me introduce myself, I am Wicus Smit. Thank you for the invite! I'm interested in this painting, is it for sale?”

  Mika blushes, her freckles prominent in her face.

  “It wasn't the plan. I could consider it, if you insist. My name is Mika de Villiers, but of course you know that, here it is on the door.”

  Suddenly everything is bright and shiny. She enjoys the people around her, the smell of soup and sherry. The way the light falls on his face.

  'He is so attractive. Look at those big hands with the long fingers. I saw how they folded around the neck of the guitar the other night, an artist's hands. See how the light twinkles in the silver in his beard.'

  The last people have left. Niklaas has taken Johanna to a restaurant for a warm intimate coffee. Adri turns the lights out in the tea garden, and gives Mika a kiss at the door.

  “Phone you,” whispers Mika in her ear, “love you.”

  They sit on the blue couch, with a sherry each. Mika has taken off her boots and jacket, and sits in her chemise. Her bare shoulders are very white, with small freckles, her shapely arms lovely.

  “You're beautiful, do you know that?” Mika laughs, waves her hand. “I've got enough to get by on. I'm not so young any more.” “No, I'm serious.” He takes her hand gently. “May I?” Mika moves a little closer. His hand is large and warm, and makes her feel secure. Feelings that have been sleeping for years inside of her start stirring in her breast.

  “So tell me why you don't have a day job, mmm?”

  “Oh, that's a long story. Do you really want to hear it?”

  “Yes, I think so. Time I know who my mysterious ponytail man is. I mean the ponytail man.”

  “Freudian slip?” he asks, and looks at her searchingly. Her eyes are luminous in the light of the candles.

  “From the first time I saw you, you've been on my mind. Couldn't wait for Fridays, just in case I could catch a glimpse of you. That little dance with the flower the other night really affected my hormone levels in a major way, what can I say? I grew up in a small town. Both my parents are still alive. We were never rich, but we had everything we needed. My father was a teacher, my mother generated an extra income with her baking and canning, also her needlework. My brother and I were very close, we still are. We see each other at least once a year.

  I have a degree in art, sculpture is my passion. I have played in a band since high school, and later on the music just took over. I go on tour from time to time, and I have cut a few CDs, under a stage name..So now you know almost everything.”

  Mika rubs his hand, pulls at the black hairs on his arm.

  “And, is there a woman in this tale?”

  “ There was. I was married for a few years, no children. We just drifted apart, and in the end we cut ties. She is married again, we don't really talk.”

  Mika feels relief well up inside of her. She jumps up.

  “Would you like another bowl of soup? I'm hungry! Come and chat with me in the kitchen. Would you like a roll?” She takes out two seed rolls, butters them.

  “And?” Wikus lays his hand on her arm, turns her around to face him. “Is there a man in your tale?”

  “Yes,” says Mika with a smile. “two, actually.”

  “Pray tell?”

  “My precious Dad whom I adore, and my son, Igna.”

  She looks at him directly. “I have never been married. Igna is twenty, and he will be in Wales for the next year.”

  Wicus puts his arm around her shoulder. “So what's news?” He starts fiddling with a stray strand of hair hanging over her eye. “Stand still, wait,” he says, and puts it behind her ear gently. “there, now you can see.”

  He enjoys the bowl of soup and then gets up and walks through the studio, stands for long moments at each painting, goes over to her CD collection. “Ah,Van Morrisson, my favourite. I especially like Moon Dance, and..may I play it?” “Of course.”

  The tender voice of Morrisson fills the studio.

  “I've been searching a long time for someone like you. I've been travelling all around the world, waiting for you to come through..someone like you, to keep me satisfied,”

Wikus holds an imaginary microphone, sings with a passionate face...looks her straight in the eye.. “someone exactly like you, someone exactly like you!”



Mom, I'm going to take a course in self defence. Cindy too, we have decided!” She executes something akin to karate chops. “Ahhhhh!!” Kicks her right leg up in the air, “hau so!!”

  Adri sits at the kitchen table. She has done the dishes, and is relaxing with a cup of tea. “My goodness child,” she says, “and this sudden decision?”

  “There was a man at school who offers classes in self defence, and we want to attend, just in case you know. It's dangerous out there! Will you pay for the course?”

  “I'll have to talk to your father. Will you be able to fit it in, your program is full already?”

  “Yes, I've worked it out carefully. There are all sorts of freaks out there. How does this look?”

  Her face is scary. She wiggles her eyebrows, holds her arms in front of her like a praying mantis at war.

  Adri smiles, but tries to hide it. 'One moment she's a pop star, and the next moment she does this kind of thing.'

  “Okay, I'll talk to Dad. You seem to be serious about this. How about attacking the disorder in your room, put your foot on Entropy's neck?”

  Bianca leaves the room growling, mumbles a few Chinese sounding words in a high nasal tone.

  Adri sighs. ' Mister Man is late again tonight. Treats his home like a boarding house. Only pitches when he wants to bath and sleep. He even ignores the meals I cook. We will have to have a talk, this cannot continue. My marriage is in serious trouble, and I can't keep quiet any longer. What if he gives me Aids? Although, that is not really a possibility, considering our non existent bedroom affairs. Mika's exhibition was such a success the other night. I'm glad I could help her. She looked so beautiful!'

  Her phone prrrrrs on the table, rings.

  “Mika, I was just thinking about your show. It was phenomenal! It's a pleasure. What, the Ponytail Man? Really? So he doesn't have ten children? Mmmm, he sounds adorable. Going away for the week, wow, things are developing fast? But then, it has been a very long time since you've been in a relationship.”

  She can hear that Mika is happy and well. “Okay, so you will let me know when you have time. No, things are still the same. We're heading for a confrontation. We will have to talk or seek counsel. Is that him? Love you, mwah!”

  Adri looks at her reflection in the kitchen window,  grimaces and closes the blinds. 'She sounds wonderful. It's time. She is special and beautiful, and deserves someone kind and loveable. And, what do I deserve? What I have at the moment? No!! I will have to make a stand. If I don't, who will? Frans is wrong! I'm not ugly, I'm well groomed and I think I look better than most women of my age.'

  “What he is doing is inexcusable, stupid man!! After all my years of support and care!”

  She picks up the teacup, hurls it at the wall. It shatters. She grabs the saucer and makes another mark on the expensive tiles.

  “You horrible, selfish, dishonest Oaf!! I hate you for what you are doing to me!!”



Submitted: June 30, 2013

© Copyright 2020 Huldah. All rights reserved.


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