The Angel I Never MetJustin and EmilyThe Right-hand ManKathleenThe Love That ConquersA need for convictionThe Aim is not to Sweat

You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give. Kahlil Gibran

But when you give to the needy, do not let your left-hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. Matthew 6: 3-4

The Beautiful ones are not yet born. Ayi Kwei Armah

Justin and Emily

That is the time when I come to you, when your neon flowers flaunt from your electrical wind. That is the time when I leave you, when your neon flowers flaunt their way through the falling darkness on your cement trees. And as I go back, to my love, my dongas, my dust, my people, my death, where That was as far as she'd allow him to read before disturbing him again. He didnt get annoyed however, it was something he was used to, and expected. He was reading City Johannesburg by Mangane Wally Serote; that's until Emily decided she'd had enough and came jumping on his lap like a kitten. She knocked the book, aptly titled Poetry Quest, right off his right hand to the floor. With no care in the world for her actions she wrapped her hands around his neck and demandingly said, "Ice-cream time!" as brash as an Eight-year old could be.Although he always expected something to happen around Emily, he could never guess the timing or nature of her childish impulses. "What did I say?" he said removing her arms around his neck. She wrapped back around his neck and said, "You said to wait till you're done," tilting her head from side-to-side as she talked, and sticking her tongue out at the end.Grabbing her head and holding it steady he said, "Yes, and did I look like I was done to you?" With a frowny face, she grumbled, "But its ice-cream time." Stephen tried giving her what he called tha stare, and although it worked like a charm on other occasions, this was one of those times it didn't. She was in her hyperactive mode; a cold stare was nothing more than a silly gesture to her at that moment. Bouncing up and down on his lap she again demanded, "Ice-cream! I want ice-cream!"Theirs was a perculiar relationship; she was the most annoying kid you could think of, while he was the most irritable person alive. They spend more than half the time squabbling, and the rest eating ice-cream - vanilla with strawberries most preferably - but yet they always want to be together. You two are like an old married couple, Emily's mother, Stephanie Edwards, would always say in amazement.Stephen remained calm, surprising given that Emily had been pressing buttons, his buttons, all day. He tried talking her out of her demonstration. "Em's," he said in a composed manner. "Could you stop behaving like an animal." She halted her protest, and then said, "Will you buy me ice-cream?"This was war, a battle as ancient as time itself, a duel for supremacy; it was a good-old power-struggle. No one ever wins a power-struggle, especially against a little girl determined to get whatever she wants. Although giving in would've most certainly saved a lot of time and spared him the agony, Stephen had learned - the hard way - that doing so doesn't help ones future prospects one bit with Emily. So instead of conceding he played his next best card - bargaining."Yes," he said. "I'll buy you ice-cream. But only if you promise to behave and let me finish reading my book." Emily shrugged her shoulders in frustration. "C'mon now, ten more minutes isn't so bad," Stephen said. "Tell you what, if you behave really well, not only will I buy you your favorite ice-cream, I'll take you on a ride."A sense of excitement sprang to life on her face almost immediately when he said that. "Will you take me to the park?" she said. Seeing how excited she was, Stephen smiled and said, "Yes, Em's, I'll take you to the park." Emily leapt off of him at once and sat quietly by his side on the sofa with her arms folded. Stephen picked up his book and continued reading. Reading the poem wasn't that important per se, it was getting Emily to do as he said that pleased him. He took periodic glances at her and wore a secret smile on every occassion. He was proud that he was the only person who could ever tame her. She walks all over her parents, especially her father, Ethan Edwards. Stephen always feels pitty for Him every time he sees him trying desperately, and very often unsuccessfully, to keep her under control. He stretched the boundries of her patiance by 'reading' the poem for a little while longer than the time he'd promised. But she sat still, waiting patiently for him to finish. Not wanting to push his luck any further, Stephen slammed the book shut and matter-of-frankly declared, "That's it, time to go," and sprang up to his feet. Emily did the same. They went out of the study and descended down the stairs to the living room.Downstairs, Sylvia, the main female servent, was watering the plant at the bottom of the stairs. She always tried by all means to avoid Emily whenever she could, but there was nowhere to go on this occasion. Sylvia tried not to look galvanized when Emily went flying down and hugged her around her waist shouting Sylvia.Stephen noticed her panic and quickly said, "Don't worry Sylvia, we're heading out. C'mon Em's, let's leave Sylvia alone, we have some riding to do remember." Emily let go of Sylvia and shouted yey. "Bye Sylvia," Stephen said. Emily emulated him. But before they could leave the passageway and disappear into the dining room Stephen remembered something. He turned around and said to Sylvia, "Oh, and Sylvia, Justin said he'll come by today. If he arrives while we're out, tell him to wait. Don't tell him I have a visitor though, he might scarper." Sylvia replied with a custumary, "Yes Mr. Sterling." Stephen and Emily exited the house and went to the four-door garage. He pressed on his cellphone and the first door on the left started rising. The door opened to reveal two bikes parked side-by-side, a Harley-Davidson and a red, angry-looking, but oh-so-beautiful Suzuki.Emily ran in and attempted to climb onto the black leather seat of the Harley. Stephen said, "Uh-uh, today we're going superfast." Emily went and stood by the Suzuki. He climbed on, and she also hopped on behind him. He said, "Alright, you know the drill; keep your head down, hold on and sit steady. Are you ready?" She nodded. He gave her a smaller helmet, put one on himself and turned the key to start the machine.Two hours later, they were back. The Suzuki pulled into the driveway and a silver Porsche was parked right in front of the garage door where the bikes park. It was quickly identified as that belonging to Justin Kemp, Stephen's best mate from Varsity. He set the bike right besides the car and they went inside. As expected, Justin's voice could be heard ringing loudly round the house when they walked in, and Stephen knew that could only mean one thing - he was watching football.Stephen and Emily entered the TV room and indeed Justin was watching a game with Louis, the butler. Louis stood up immediately when he saw his boss and said, "Good afternoon sir." He dropped his head to the little devil holding on to his boss's hand. "Emily," he said, nodding his head at her. Chin up, shoulders back and with an assured sense of confidence Emily smiled and said, "Hello, Mr. Louis."Louis was the only person Emily called Mister, but that meant very little as he was just as scared of her as anyone else. She once followed him into the cellar and by the time they emerged Louis had lost two bottles. Another person who was terrified to death of Emily, almost as much as her father, was Justin. He nearly spilled his drink when he saw Stephen walk in with her. "Keep that thing away from me," he stated, the terror clearly visible on his face.Louis wanted to make way for Stephen but Justin called him back. Hey, hey, where the hell do you think you're going; I neeed someone to bash when the match ends," he said. Louis looked at Stephen, but he didn't say anything. Justin repeated, "C'mon, sit down, don't let her scare you," he said pointing at Emily, who was getting herself comfy by Stephen's side on the sofa. Louis took his seat again, it wasn't clear whether his hesitation was because Emily or his boss; it's never nice to be perceived as sitting around and doing nothing by your employer.The game was almost over; they had to watch twenty more minutes of it. No bashing was neccesary as Louis' team, Arsenal, equalised in the dying minutes for the match to end in a draw. The Durban-born steward stood up, went over to Stephen and woke up a fast-asleep Emily, he went with her upstairs. The two guys now had a chance to talk about the real reason Justin was there."It'll happen tonight," Justin said, the happy smile seemingly vanishing into thin air. "I dropped the bombshell on his girlfriend this morning. He's still out of town, but he gets back tonight.""Are you sure he's the right guy?" Stephen said, much to the annoyance of Justin. "Yes," Justin replied, raising his voice a tad. "Look, I've already told you I know this guy, okay."Stephen accepted. "Okay, if you say so.""I say so," Justin reiterated. "Look, I get it, picking a right-hand man is like choosing that perfect suit. You want it tailored to your specifications, you want to breathe and be comfortable in it; and when you need it to make you look good you want to know you can rely on its quality and polish.""Exactly," Stephen said. "And that's why you don't find right-hand men in a Cracker Jack box."Justin put his glass down, leaned forward and said, "But this one is being recommended by someone you've known forever, Stephen, someone you trust; he's been recommended by me. You do trust me, right?""Like nobody else," Stephen said."Good, now stop being a pain in my area and listen to me. I'm pretty confident his girlfriend's going to kick him out tonight. He doesn't have many friends around here, so he's most likely to come to me, which is where you will be waiting for him."

The Right-hand Man

He couldn't understand why she was staring at him like that. It seemed like he had done something wrong. But what? Not wanting to perjure himself, he said nothing, he did nothing. It had been like this for ten whole minutes now; he was on his back with his gaze firmly on the ceiling and she was lying on her side right next to him on the queen-size bed. Her cold, unblinking stare on him. His right cheek was getting hot from the glare, and his heart started pumping more blood than it normally does. But still he maintained his position, although millions of thoughts were running in and out of his mind in their gigabytes. What could possibly be wrong? He wondered. He knew whatever it was, it was most definitely his fault; she wouldve been quick to talk to him about it had it not been.He tried to think of something he might have said, or done, unwittingly. But he came up with nothing. Then, finally, she stoke, barely."Who's Chloe?" she said, with an inaudible murmur. Relieved to get to finally move his head, Chris turned on his side to face her and said, "What was that?"Jane stared at him for a moment before repeating what she said. "Who's Chloe?" she said, quite audibly this time, but not loud.A chill ran up and down his guilt-ridden spine when she said that. His guilt was caused by the fact that Chloe was the girl he was madly in love with; she was that childhood friend he's always had a crush on. And for that reason he's always hid her from Jane. Trying by all means not to look guilty he said, "She's my friend."Jane, still with a detached look on her face solemnly said, "Since when?" And an increasingly nervous Chris replied, "Since kindergarten."Another long silence followed after that, with the cold glowering not looking like abating anytime soon. Chris did do his best not to buckle, staring straight into her eyes for lengthy periods in-between dropping his eyes to her chin and blinking excessively. When she spoke again, she asked him a question that made his chest jerk up. "How does it feel like, having sex with her?" she said. Her voice was still down but an inferno was beginning to rage inside her reddening, watery eyes.Chris couldn't answer because of the shock that had gripped him. But unlike his body, his thoughts were unrestrained and ran rampant inside his head. How can she possibly know about that? Her thought. Only two other people know about that. It can't be Chloe, she wouldn't tell her. But it also can't be Justin; he wouldn't do that to me, would he?"I asked you a question; I expect you to answer me when I ask you a question." Jane's voice flirted with anger for the first time. Her demand ground Chris's data-processing session to an abrupt halt. With nothing to say for himself, he answered, "Excuse me?"Growing ever impatient, Jane was quick to respond and didn't mince her words. "Your friend Chloe, how is it fucking her?" she said."Jane, please ""Just answer the damn question.""It's not like that," he said."Then hows it like, Chris, huh, enlighten me.""I slept with her once, and it was all a big mistake okay," he said. "I promise you, it was all a mistake. It's never happened again, and will never happen again. I told her that, I promise.""You're so full of crap Chris, you know that. I give you all my love, everything that I have and this is how you repay me," a now full-bloodedly mad Jane said."Jane, I swear to you ""Bullshit!" she yelled. "Bullshit, Chris. She's the one who told you she doesn't want it to happen again; after you poured out your heart about how much you love her. But you see the truth always comes out, and the truth is you're a no-body Chris, a homeless, sorry excuse for a man. And the funny thing, she's just like you. What did you think you were going to give her, huh, Chris, while everything you have is mine. You're such an idiot, get out of my house." She turned her back to him.A look of admission that it was over came over Chris's face as he hesitated whether to touch her or say another word. In the end he did nothing but to get out of bed, dress up and be on his way.When he exited the gate of Jane's house, a familiar breeze blew across his face. The air always felt different when you're on the streets and have nowhere to go, it feels....colder. He'd been here before. Unprepared to spend another night on the streets Chris had to take a guess, one of Chloe or Justin betrayed him, so he had to figure out who it was and then go the opposite direction. The verdict didn't take too long to reach; difficult as it was to take, he concluded it has to have been Chloe, it couldn't be Justin. He took his small bag, called a cab and headed to Sandhurst in Sandton where Justin Kemp's house was.Eight unanswered rings on the door told him Justin wasn't home. He decided to call me. The phone also went unanswered. Frustrated, Chris rang two more times on the door before breaking-down and banging on it like a maniac. After having that little moment, he checked his watch - which said ten-twenty-three - and picked up the bag to walk away. Justin's door was some five meters from the small gate and the two were connected by a narrow, bushy pathway.But Just before Chris reached the gate a voice called out from behind him saying, "I like the big apple myself."Chris swivelled, stared at the man who looked like he appeared from nowhere and said, "Excuse me?" The man, dressed in a simple blue Levi's jean and a blue, body-fitting T-shirt with Superman's 'S' on it said, "Your shirt," pointing at Chris's top which had two large letters painted on it both front and back. The letters were L.A."I have a friend there, in Malibu; beautiful place. But there's just something about the big apple, you know, I prefer it," the man said moving slightly ever closer to Chris."Sorry do I know you?" Chris said, still wondering who he was talking to. "Can I help you with something?" he added.The man, who was now right next to Chris said, "It's interesting that you'd ask that, because I don't think its me who needs help between us two." Before Chris could say something the man continued. "Oh, I'm sorry, excuse my rudeness. The name is Stephen, Stephen Sterling, I'm a friend of Justin," he said extending his hand to Chris.Chris didn't shake his hand, but he said, "I'm looking for Justin, have you seen him?""He's not here, but ""Thank you, Mr. Sterling," Chris said, turning around and walking away."How would you like a job," Stephen shouted. Chris stopped, but didn't turn around. "A well paying job," Stephen added. "You could start tonight, right away."Chris turned around and walked slowly back towards Stephen. "Did Justin put you up to this?" he said. "Because he should have told you I don't do crime.""Nothing illegal, Christopher," Stephen said. "I want you to be my right-hand man."Chris stared curiously at Stephen, looked around the narrow passage and then said, "No one walks up to a person in the middle of the night and offers them a job Mr. Sterling, not one without a catch anyway.""There's no catch, I assure you," Stephen said with a charming smile. But the doubt was still clearly visible on Chris's face. Stephen said, "You come highly recommended, Mr. Murray, that's all there is to it."Chris's expression started changing as he began to realise what was happening. It all became clear to him. With a sad face he said, "It was him, wasn't it? It was Justin who burned me with Jane.""It was the only way he could get you to even consider the job," Stephen said, deliberately exonerating himself. Chris nodded his head and then dropped it. "You know, he loves you man, he wouldn't have done this if he didn't think it would be good for you," Stephen said.Raising his head, Chris took a step towards Stephen and said, "I don't know what Justin led you to believe about me, Mr. Sterling, but I'm not the guy you're looking for. I'm going to go, and tomorrow I'm going to have a nice long talk with Justin.""Go? Go where, Chris? To Chloe? She rejected you," Stephen said. "I don't care, I just want a place to crash for the night," Chris said before turning around and walking away again. But, yet again, Stephen yelled out something that made him stop before he reached the gate. "She's engaged did you know?" he said. Chris didn't turn, but he stopped and remained motionless. "Yes, of course she didn't tell you, Stephen went on. I don't whether that can be called lovin' or not givin' a damn about a someone; hmm, that's a very tricky one."Stephen continued on hes no holds barred assault. "C'mon, Chris, you have no options," he said. "You love a girl you can't afford to have; you hold a criminal record, and you're homeless. I'm giving you a shot at being a man again here. He moved closer to the gate but remained at a safe distance. It must've been hard for you to be accused and convicted of something you didn't do, he went on. No one believed you; even your own family turned their backs on you, just when you needed them the most. I can't tell you I know how that feels like, because I'll be lying to you if I do. But what I do know, Chris, is how being poor feels like; not being able to afford anything; going to sleep hungry every night; feeling powerless and helpless. I'm a wealthy man, but I wasn't born this way, it took a special someone to see in me something that I couldn't even see in myself; to believe in me. Let me be that person for you Chris, allow me to believe in you."Chris turned around, looked at Stephen and didn't say a word. But he didn't have to. Stephen went over to him, took the bag from his grasp and said, "C'mon let's go, I've got someone I'd like to tell you about, she's fantastic, you'll love her."

Kathleen

Water. The most neutral substance on earth. It has no colour, no taste, no smell, and has a balanced PH reading. Water is pure and blameless, and is the fundamental building block of all living organisms. And how kind of God to bless us with an abundance of this most precious liquid. If only mankind was half as Kathleen's thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of a shadow growing nearer from behind her. She'd been staring out into the dam for the longest of times. She turned around to perceive the bod responsible for the ghost."You must have a real fascination with the water huh," the man engendering the shadow said as he arrived next to her. "You've been staring out there for awhile," he added."That must mean you've been watching me for awhile, then," she staidly said, giving the young man's eyes her attention for a second before dumping them for the water. The man smiled lightly and said, "Not many things are for sure these days, but this much I'm sure of, you, miss, are the most beautiful woman I've seen in a very long time."Her gaze returned to the man's eyes and she stared blankly at him for some time, before going back to the H-two-O again. The man, or the boy she now thought, didn't seem too deterred though. He moved closer to her. "I must congratulate you," he said."On what?" she said, without much interest; her focus was kept to the distance. The man said, "Why on your achievement, of course. You're the first person I've met in months who's actually woman enough to be my girlfriend. Let me take you out, to celebrate."The man's cockiness got him her full attention. She turned back to him in a kind of motion that suggested she was done with the dam and her focus was now squarely on him; unfortunately, though, it didn't suggest that she was in any way pleased with his utterances."Tradition," he blurted out almost immediately. "It's a custom of mine to reward such great achievements with my time and attention; and those are pretty precious, you know."She wanted to be mad at him, and she should've been, but his shear audacity made her admire him for just a second. Instead of telling him to get lost, like she initially intended to, she said, "Some nerve you have to come up to me and say something like that," with no great emotion."What can I say, I'm a principled man; a man's gotta abide by his principles, right?"Before she could reply an angry sounding voice called out Kathleen, kom hier! almost carking her, which in-turn made the man uncomfortable himself, if not nervous. A look of despondency washed her face as she said, "That's my dad, I have to go," and began walking away. He tried to stop her by saying, "Hey wait a minute, let me " but she cut him out. "No, please, you don't understand," she said, and ran away.The man was left standing on the sand scratching his head. Kathleen got to the high ground where her father was waiting on the embankment. He said, "What were you doing with that boy?" in Afrikaans.He was a real Boer, a farmer; the hardcore kind from Klerksdorp. Kathleen feared her father like he was some madman out to get her - although in some a crazy way he kinda was. She dropped her head and said, ek es yamer pa. He told her to move, and took one last, unimpressed look down towards the bank of the Vaal dam before turning around to follow her.That was not the last time Mr. Van Tonder was to see the man though, although he didn't see him again for a few weeks. One person who didn't have to wait that long to see him however, was Kathleen; she saw him later that day, actually, much to her dismay; not at him, but his stupidity, as she considered it. She whispered, "Are you insane," as she turned around to see who was poking her on the shoulder. "Are you trying to get me into trouble, my dad will see us," she said, all fidgety. Her father was just a short distance away on the counter and she was sitting down on the table. They were in one of those outdoor cafeterias with only a roof and a waist-high wall going around. Kathleens table was right on the wall and the man had poked her from outside the cafeteria. "What are you doing?" she said leaning in to him. He didn't look all too bothered about the nervousness stroked out of her by the presence of her father. It actually looked like he was revelling in the situation to Kathleen, which made her even more nervous. "This isn't funny," she said. "My dad doesn't like seeing me with guys."In an effort not to get the lady into trouble, more than being scared of her father, he said, "Give me your number then. We'll talk at another time." It was a proposition Kathleen accepted at once, she'd have done anything to get rid of him. She began saying her number but he said, "No, no, not like that. I'll tell you my number then you buzz me." He called out his number to her and she punched it in as he did so. He finished reading her the number and she pressed the dial button on her phone. It was a mystery how her father hadn't turned round not even once - after all, parents always turn to check on their children when ordering food at the counter, don't they? Anyway, the guy's phone rang, or instead vibrated, and she hung up quickly. When her father came back with their meals the mysterious man was gone.

The Love That Conquers

The steam-powered lid danced up and down and around the circumference of the pot, the smell of deglazing chicken scraps escaping into the air every time it opened and closed. It was a beautiful smell, for she was a brilliant cook. The boneless, skinless chicken breasts had already been fried and one piece each lay on two plates on top of the counter. Shaved Parmesan was sprinkled all over the pieces which were covered by two slices of Prosciutto each. A kitchen knife was going back and forth on the wooden tray chopping some Italian Parsley. Kathleen, the operator of the blade, was having a good time humming to the cool sound of Keith Sweat singing Let's Make it Last Forever. She was preparing a romantic dinner for her and her boyfriend of five weeks, who was due to arrive from work at any moment.Everything was all going according to plan, but she hadn't banked on it happening two nights in a row however. It referring to the electricity going out. But it did, and all her ideas got thrown into disarray. Although the Chicken Piccata was done by any criteria, she hadn't bought any candles and eating in the dark is anything but romantic. To make matters worse, the bright lights of the Toyota Tazz shown through the window of the single-floor-apartment kitchen-window almost at the same instant that the power went out.These are benefits of living in a low-class neighbourhood, she thought. Just great.The Tazz was her boyfriends. She remained in the dim-lit kitchen, expecting him to walk any second. A minute later the kitchen door opened and he walked in holding some shopping bags and a small briefcase. He went over to her and said, "Happened again, huh," putting the groceries on the counter and kissing her on the cheek. "And we have no candles," she said."But I told you to buy some candles yesterday," he said."I forgot, okay," she said. "I thought Id buy them tomorrow.""So now we're in the dark," he said, trying not to look frustrated. "Did you at least cook?""I was making Chicken Piccata as you can smell, most of it is done but the power went out just before the stew could simmer.""Chicken Piccata with Prosciutto, hmm," he said, taking a bite with a fork from one of the plates. "Looks like you were cooking up a special in here, too bad for the power."Kathleen drew herself closer to him, placed her arms around his neck and said, "I don't think we should let a minor thing like electricity spoil our evening, should we," and kissed him. She went on after the kiss. "Besides, I always prefer taking my dessert first," and kissed him again. She shot herself into his arms and he carried her away to the bedroom where they made love for the longest of times. Unfortunately for them, the power was still AWOL by the time they got done. Lazy to wake up and walk around in the dark they decided to just lie in bed and talk, although both were hungry."Stephen," Kathleen began. "Do you remember that day we met at the river?""Yes, of course I do, honey, what about it?""That was the first day I ever disobeyed my dad," she said, and then kept quiet. "Eighteen years," she continued. "I've been living with my dad for eighteen years and that was the first time I ever rebelled against him.""You didn't rebel against him, Kate," Stephen said. "You simple chose to go on a date with me. That's normal behaviour for a teenager, you know that right?""How about running away from home to live with a man you've only known for a few weeks against your fathers wishes, is that normal teen behavior?""Probably not, for the sane ones," he said."So I'm insane.""You're not afraid to take risks. Sure its a crazy thing to leave home to live with a man without your fathers blessing, but it proofs you have some serious balls; the kind of balls not even men have nowadays. And that's what I love, a gorgeous girl with balls; how many people can say that," he said, tickling her as he finished.A moment of silence ensued. Her head was lying on top of his right arm and she was fondling with the wooden cross on his necklace. Then she said, "Stephen, how come you never talk about what you do?""What do you mean?" he said."I mean most couples talk about how their day went, how was work, that kind of stuff, right," she said. "But you never give me a straight answer every time I ask you about your day.""No, babes, I...I just don't want to bore you with all that stuff, man, thats all," he said."That's the thing," she said. "You'll not be boring me. Love, as your girlfriend I'm interested to know what you do. I want to know who you spend most of your day with, where you spend most of your day. You don't even introduce me to any of your friends. Your phone is always ringing, every fifteen minutes to be precise, but I hardly know who you're talking to."They remained quiet, until Kate spoke again. "Baby, how come no one ever visits this place?""Weve just moved in babes.""You have so many friends, and its been three weeks; none of them has come, not once.""You're the only friend I need.""What about Chris? Justin? Ethan? Henry? Emily?""How the hell do you know about my friends?""You ask, cmon you talk to them everyday right here besides me. I think I might even know a thing or two about all of them by now.""Oh, yeah?""Yeah, I'm telling you.""Okay then, hit me.""Alright, let's see. This Justin must be your best friend; you talk to him all the time about everything. Henry is most probably someone you work with, or work for. Chris sounds like he works under you or something like that; you're always barking instructions at him. Then I'm not too sure about this Emily, you're always talking about ice-cream with her; you're not cheating on me with an ice-cream vendor, are you?"He looked impressed as he said, "Wow, that's impressive. I'd give you a seven-five; really well done.""Pass with Distinction, I'll take that. So when am I going to meet all these people?""When you're ready.""When I'm ready? Excuse me, what is that supposed to mean?""Nothing. Never mind. I'll introduce you to all my friends soon enough, okay. But talking about PDs, how's your Chemistry report coming?""It's coming along pretty nicely as a matter of fact. I had professor Jourbert show me some few things yesterday. He's also from Klerksdorp you know; we're developing a fine relationship I must say. Not too many lecturers speak Afrikaans in our department, their all....English," she said."Hey, what's wrong with English?""Nothing, it's just refreshing to speak to someone in your own language once in a while.""But that implies that talking with me is debilitating?""You don't count, you're my boyfriend; of course talking with you is always refreshing. You and I could be speaking in Japanese and I'd still enjoy the conversation," she said.A long pause followed. Then she talked again. "I feel bad, you know," she said."About your dad? Don't, you did the right thing.""No, for you," she said."Me? Why would you feel bad for me?""I feel like I'm a burden," she said. "I mean here you are taking care of me, loving me, protecting me "" I don't see how that's a burden.""It is," she said. "It is because you don't have to." Pause. "Just like you didn't have to use all you savings to take me to school. You could have moved to a nicer apartment with that money," she concluded."You talk nonsense sometimes, you know," he said. "I'd rather be here in this darkness with you than anywhere else in Gauteng. Unless what you're saying is that you'd rather be in Klerksdorp with your father than here with me. Because then you can go; I don't want you to stay here because you feel like you owe me, because you don't. If you ever feel like you miss the farm and all your friends and family there, I won't stop you from going.""Of course not," she said. "I just don't understand why it has to be either you or him. I shouldn't have to choose, you know. I love both of you, equally.""That's his way I guess," he said."And what kind of way is that, Stephen, huh; what type of a father forces his daughter to choose between him and the man she loves.""Maybe he was grooming you to marry a millionaire and not some broke dude in a Tazz.""By training me to be a housewife? How many millionaires out there do you know want to marry a housewife?""A lot more than you'd expect," he said.The two lovers talked until the wee hours of the morning, even forgetting that theyd been hungry. Stephen thanked God it was Friday because when he finally fell asleep it was only an hour-and-half before his midweek alarm time. The only thing he had to worry about was what time Emily was going to call that Saturday.

A need for conviction

Stephen Sterling's life is hardly filled with any routines. No one person always knows where he is or where he's gonna go, not even he knows sometimes what he's going to do next. But with all that spontaneity and mysteriousness one thing is always guaranteed, he has to pick up Emily Edwards every Saturday at twelve-oclock, otherwise she'll kill him - her own words. It was a promise he made to her almost twelve months ago when he first met her. She has LQTS and can die at any moment. When her foster parents, the Edwards, adopted her she hadn't been yet been diagnosed with the rare heart condition.On one of the few occasions Stephen went to church, always a random one, he heard for the first time of Emily's story when the pastor made a plea to the congregation to donate money for her Left cardiac sympathetic denervation surgery. Since then Stephen makes it a point that she always has her Innopran XL drugs, he buys her lots of gifts, spends time with her and, of course, buys her lots of ice-cream.She's a very smart girl, so much so that she can hold an extended mature conversation with any adult, although most usually try to avoid her. Those are the people who know nothing about her however. Of everyone in Stephen's cycle, only Chris knows about her condition, and, like Stephen, he absolutely adores her. As far as Stephen knows, no body has the kind of heart Emily has - no pun intended. To live your life knowing that you're going to die at any moment, how many people could live with that? And the fact that she doesn't have the life experience necessary to fully develop her emotional maturity makes it all the more impressive. And as if living with it wasn't enough, Emily is the most exuberant, active and positive-minded person there is; she's perpetually happy no matter what. She likes living life on the edge just like he does and she isn't afraid to try new things. Admittedly, she has taught him a few things; like how to blow a bubble gum twice as big as an average person would.Stephen had to go and leave the Toyota at home before heading to the Edwards' to pick up Emily. She once gave him hell for showing up in a Ford pickup. Standing her ground and with that Eloise at the plaza swagger of hers she had said, "What. In. The. World! You don't expect to pick me up in that, do you?"Since then he's always made sure to show up in the Lamborghini, AMG, DB9, or one of the bikes. He once picked her up in a helicopter, when he was taking her to see the Proteas in Cape Town's Sahara Park in Newlands on one of their traditional summer tests.Right on cue, at exactly midday, the dark-grayish Reventon pulled up into the Edwards driveway in Roodeport, Johannesburg. A three-bedroom house that looked like it desperately needed a paint-job welcomed him. Emily, who'd been sitting on the stoop waiting for him came running towards the Lambo hugging a backpack. Stephen exited the car and gave her a hug."C'mon, we have to say goodbye to mum and dad," he said, leading her back to the house.Inside, Stephanie made him a drink and brought it to the sitting room where he and Ethan were sitting on the sofas. As always, Ethan was using whatever little time he had to quote a few scriptures for Stephen. When Stephanie sat down next to Stephen across the coffee table from her husband, Ethan was reading Romans 10:11. "for whoever believes in him shall not be ashamed," Ethan quoted, before taking a pick at Stephen through his four-eyes. Stephen raised his glass and flashed a sheepish smile. Every verse that Ethan, or indeed Stephanie, reads to him is always personalized. And the message on that particular verse couldn't be any clearer. Stephen had perjured himself the day he said, "I don't believe in religion, but I believe that there's a God, somewhere, who cares about us." And he now wishes he hadn't made that statement every time he comes to Roodeport.After another half-hour church finally ended - or at least Stephen hoped it had - when Ethan removed his spectacles and put the holly book down on the table. Leaning back on the double-sofa, Ethan outspread his arms along the top lining of the couch and made a figure-four with his legs. "So Emily told us about the motorbike ride last weekend," he said with a slight smile.A high school English teacher, there was nothing special about Ethan, or his wife, although she was too good-looking to be working at a Day-care centre Stephen thought. Ethan was just any random guy anyone can pass on the street without giving a second look to. No shinning suits, no expensive watches or attitudes. The thing that made Stephen love the Edwards so much, especially Ethan, was that his life was as ordinary as anyone else's but he couldn't have had it any other way, he loved it exactly the way it was.That was part of Stephen's philosophy. He considered himself a giver not a philanthropist, or rather an inspirer to be more precise; especially of people who stimulate his heart. He's not someone who just makes charitable donations to humanity, but he devotes himself completely. He believed that even if you give someone all the money in the world, the best gift you can ever give a person is your time, your energy, your ear; the best gift you can give is yourself. That's why you don't see him shaking hands holding a check with a UN general-secretary surrounded by a couple of starving kids somewhere in central Africa, only to never show his face again when the formalities are over and done with. That's why no one is calling him for a TV or magazine interview. No one is aware of what Stephen does, because he doesn't do it to be seen, or to be loved and adored. No, no, he does it because he wants to. He does it because he has to. He needs to. God knows he needs to; to keep from going crazy, he needs to. Nothing brings him more joy than seeing the smiles on the faces of the people he helps. Not smiles directed at dozens of international media cameras, but warm and genuine smiles that come from the heart. And although he has seen it countless times, still nothing compares to seeing that smile on Emily's face on a shinny Saturday morning; a Saturday morning under the bright blue African sky. Even if she dies, even if he dies, he'll forever be honoured to have met someone like her.That secret smile of his appeared again as he stared at Ethan sitting comfortably on the sofa. A smile only one other person besides Emily could ever decipher - his late wife, Mercia Ramsey-Sterling. "Yes," Stephen said tilting his head in Emily's direction. "She's a natural on a bike. Very soon she'll be riding on her own I tell you.""Well I don't know about that," Stephanie said, patting Stephen on the shoulder. She looked at Emily and said, "Sweetheart, could you take these glasses to the kitchen please." That particular request was met with a blunt respond. "Do I look like a maid," Emily said. She looked at Stephen and said, "Stephen maybe you could help, do I look like a maid?""No, I don't think you look like a maid Emily," he replied. "I think what your mother was saying is that she's a bit tired and maybe you could "A wiggling finger accompanied by a shaking head stopped him dead in his tracks. "No, no," she said. "There're no maids in this house. I don't ask anybody to take my glass when I drink juice.""Okay, fine," Stephen said. "How 'bout we say it's not your mother asking then, what if I was asking, would you take the glasses?""Are you asking?" Emily said."I'm asking.""That's not asking.""Please could you take the glasses to the kitchen Emily, we'll highly appreciate it if you do," he said with as polite and sincere a manner as he could master under the circumstances.Emily arose from the couch and took the glasses. "That wasn't so hard was it now," she said, and walked away to the kitchen."And wash them," Stephen shouted just before she disappeared.Stephanie smiled in amazement, like she always did whenever she witnessed anyone stand up to Emily and succeed. "I don't know how you do it," she said. "Please share with us your secret, Ethan said. Her mother is better, I can't tell her anything.""She's really something else isn't she," Stephen said, showing his teeth. "It's like having a tiger for a pet. You never know when it'll turn around and eat you."At that moment his phone rang. He didn't need to look to see who was calling, that ringtone was personalized for only one person. Daniel Lowry. Stephen immediately said, "Excuse me, I have to take this," and went to the kitchen."Daniel, talk to me," he said after pressing the answer key."I think I may have found something," a sure-sounding voice on the other side of the line said. "But you know the drill; we can't talk over the phone. Meet me at the spot in an hour."The man hung up before Stephen could say anything else. A prying Emily was standing behind him when he turned around. "Who was that?" she inquired. "That wasn't Alison was it? I don't like her.""You don't like anybody," he said. "And no, that wasn't Alison, it was Daniel. C'mon lets go, we have to meet him in an hour."A sense of excitement rushed through her veins, she knew seeing Daniel always resulted in something adventures. Stephen went back to the sitting room and told the Edwards that something had just come up and he had to go. An hour later he and Emily were waiting for Daniel at the play-ground in Sour Street in Central Johannesburg.***Since it was a Saturday, there were kids everywhere in the play-ground. Some were having a kick-about on the miniature football pitch. Others were showing off their skills on the basket ball court. Some were skating, rollerblading, beat-balling. Others just stood watching like the dozens of parents that were there. Within two minutes of their sitting down they spotted Daniel Lowry approaching from the eastside entrance, probably coming from the Gautrain at Park Station, which was just across the street from the play-ground.Daniel sat down on the bench, sandwiching the little girl between him and Stephen. Emily hadn't an objection about it, she ended up liking been caught in the middle of the high-level exchange of intelligence between them. They didn't look at each other that much during the conversation, Daniel's eyes were on the football for the most part. "How's Rex?" Daniel said, still looking at the kids playing soccer. He was an odd fella, a specialist agent that looked somewhat like a geek. Short, curly golden hair atop a perfectly round and freckled face. He wore a dark blazer with a white, no-collar shirt. He wasn't really a special agent, but he was a specialist. An information specialist. An IT genius with private investigative skills; that makes him a specialist doesnt it?"Better than ever," Stephen said. "He has a friend now.""That's great, what's the friend's name?""Ace."Emily was swinging her head from one side to the other to look at their faces as they talked. Wanting to cut straight to the chase Stephen said, "Okay, so what have you got for me?""Yes, let's get to it," Daniel said. "It looks like all roads lead to Durban." He paused. Stephen waited out the silence by staring at his investigator's freckled face. Daniel continued, "It's a sophisticated operation, very well run I have to say. And the guy who's running it all, or guys, they're a family; the Gerinis.""Sounds Italian," Stephen said."That's because they are from Italy," Daniel said. "Three brothers, Giorgio, Marko and Claude Gerini. Catanians. And we all thought the mafia was dead, huh.""What's your assessment?" Stephen asked.Daniel looked at Stephen straight in the face for the first time. "This is deep, very deep," he said. "Not even Interpol has a clue about something like this happening. You can't stop it, Stephen, not alone. It's too big.""Who said I'm alone," Stephen said with an air of defiance, and then he stood up. Emily copied him. He looked down at Daniel and said, "I want to know everything about these Gerinis, everything. Fly to Italy if you have to.""It's not that simple Stephen, these guys are good. I'm lucky to be alive as I'm sitting here. It may take me another few weeks, if not months, to dig up something substantial," said Daniel, still perched on the bench."I don't care how long it takes, or how much it costs, just do it," Stephen commanded.Daniel didn't dispute his boss any further; he just looked up at Stephen awhile and then looked away. Stephen's right hand was hanging around Emily's shoulders; he watched the round-faced investigator for a moment before turning away and leading Emily away with him.On their way back to Blair Atholl, the estate where Stephen's twenty-six million dollar house is situated, they stopped at Wimpy to get themselves some milkshakes. When they emerged from the Wimpy, a group of half-a-dozen admirers had gathered around the Lamborghini to take pictures. Stephen and Emily didn't let them take anymore though as they went straight through and into the car, which reversed out of the parking space and disappeared into the open road in a matter of seconds.The garage door where the Reventon sleeps opens automatically when the car gets within three meters of it. Stephen waited for it to open all the way through, drove in and parked the car. The time was fourteen-thirty. Exiting the car, he told Emily to go and call Chris to meet him at the back. She went out of the garage and into the house going straight to the gym, the first place she checks when looking for Chris. She found him there, wrapping up his workout."Hey, how's my princess," an excited Chris said when he saw her. "Come here, I was wondering when you were gonna show."She went over to him and hugged him. "Stephen wants to see you," she said. "But I wouldnt go there if I were you.""Why, what's up," he said."He said to meet him at the back. And that can only mean one thing; he's going into the forbidden chamber," she said."But he never allows anyone but Louis back there," Chris said. They went out of the gym and began a journey to the back of the house, chatting along the way."So you've been in there?" Chris said as they walked down the hallway."Just the once," she said. "He never allowed me back in again.""What's in there?" he said."You mean besides the blood-hungry dogs? Uh, nothing much," she replied. "So all that space is dedicated to two dogs? That's almost half the whole house," he said clearly nervous but trying to keep it from Emily, who kept taking backward glances as she walked in front of him. When they passed the swimming pool area Emily stopped and said, "This is as far as I'm going. Good luck.""Wait, you're not coming?" Chris said."Are you kidding, there was only one dog when I went in there, now there're two; of course I'm not going," she said. And with no intention to scare him she added, "Two dogs; what if he fails to hold them." But all that did was make him even more nervous. "Fail to hold them? What do you mean fail to hold them?" he said in a panicky voice. Stephen picked through the crack of the door and said, "Hey, what are doing just standing there, hurry up."Chris hesitantly made his way to the door, looking back at Emily as if expecting her to save him or something. All she did was smile and wave at him. He opened the door, went in and saw Stephen kneeling down with two rather large and mean-looking pitbulls on either side of him. He was holding the dogs by their collars, but looked to be struggling to fully control them, especially the one to his right. "Lock the door behind you," Stephen said. An anxious-looking Chris did so. "This is Ace," Stephen went on, nodding to the dog on his left. "And this is Rex, he nodded to the one on the right. As you can see, they're just as unenthusiastic to meet you as you are to meet them. But don't take it personally, it's not you; they don't like new people."Chris swallowed. It felt very hot all of the sudden. A droplet of sweat ran down his neck. "C'mon, come say hi," Stephen's wince-inducing voice sounded. Gingerly, Chris took small steps forward. His heart nearly popped right out of his chest when Rex gave a menacing bark out of the blue, but Stephen held the muscular beast back."Don't worry, he won't bite," Stephen said. "As long as I can hold on to this belt, that is." After recovering from his shock Chris began to move forward again. Rex gave another bark but it didn't startle him this time, he just continued taking cautious steps forward. "Take a sit right there," Stephen said indicating to a small plank chair which was just two meters away from the dogs. Chris sat down, barely taking his eyes away from the pitbulls. Rex gave no further barks, but his grimace towards Chris wasn't any less unfriendly. Ace looked calmer, but no less scary or big."Pitbulls have a reputation as bullies," Stephen said. "But that's hardly surprising. I mean look at them. They are solidly built with a broad head, chest and well boned. They're confident, courageous, self-assured and tenacious; kinda like Emily, but don't tell her I said that. And of course the thing that terrifies oaks the most, the wide-mouthed grin, don't you just love it."Chris sat there motionless and word-less. Stephen went on, "What no one tells you, though, is that pitbulls are very smart, submissive, obedient and actually quite affectionate, albeit only towards their owner, but what the hell affection is affection isn't it."Stephen looked at Rex and said, "He's too aggressive, isn't he. But there's a sad story behind this angry twenty-three inch, one-hundred pounds beast." he turned his gaze back to Chris. "What do you do with a sturdy, compact and agile monster if you're a heartless prick?" he said.Chris wanted to say something but he wasn't sure if he understood the question."You make money with him of course," Stephen said. Chris looked even more confused. "Have you ever heard of the sport of dog-fighting Chris?" Stephen asked. Chris still remained motionless but the expression on his face gave acknowledgement to Stephens inquisition. "Then you should know that its illegal," Stephen said. "Rex over here was a victim of that very sport; in fact he was on the brink of death when an associate of mine found him on one of his assignments. Of course he's always travelling so he couldn't keep him, that's why he gave him to me."But I have to tell you the first few weeks were tough, he was more aggressive than he is now; of course he didn't know me then. I was scared to even come in here and feed him sometimes, even to this day all he eats is raw meat because that's all he's ever been fed. I got him a trainer; he taught him everything except how to eat dog-food."To these dogs I'm everything. They listen to my every command. I can come in here, leave a large cut of steak and go to the mall; they won't eat it until I tell them to. Pitbulls aren't bullies; they aren't bad or mean; it's their owners who're bad. The owners are the ones that are careless. Why would you raise an untrained beast? Why do you not keep him in a secured location? You see, when a pitbull attacks an innocent person, it is not being bad; it's being....a pitbull.Stephen took a pause to fix his grips on the collars. He waited a moment before looking back at Chris. "You've been wandering around this house for six months asking me what I hired you for, he said. Loyalty can't be bought, not with money; I know that better than anyone. Does helping you in your darkest hour grant me permission to demand loyalty from you, like the kind these dogs give me? No, it doesn't. But having lived with you for half-a-year I have to say that I see a lot of these pitbulls' character in you Chris.""Is that your way of calling me your dog?" Chris said.Stephen smiled and said, "No, you give me way too much credit. I'm not that creative. What I'm saying is that I like what I see in you, Justin wasn't wrong about you at all. As to what exactly it is I hired you for, I think we'll explore more on that as time goes on. But for now all I can say is, if one day I'm able to trust you with my life just like I can these two guys over here, I would have achieved all my goals."Stephen let go of the belts and stood up, as he did so Chris was convinced that was the end of him. He expected Rex to jump on him like a lion, but nothing happened. Stephen said, "Let's go," and they made their way safely to the exit.

The Aim is not to Sweat

It always did something to him almost every time. Sometimes it brought a smile, other times it incited a tear or two. On this occasion, it was the latter. It followed the path left by it's predecessors down to his cheeks before it was wiped off by his back-hand. Even though he was just twenty-five, a few creases can be mapped out on his face. A face that the most prominent feature was the piercing black eyes within sockets that lay above two protruding cheek-bones. The cute cheeks - as they were thought of by his late wife - could only be out-done by the full, luscious lips beneath a right-sized nose. The tear running down his face had no successor; it was just a lone traveler, much like he feels most of the times; especially on those times when he thinks of her, like he was doing at that moment.He placed the frame back down on the dresser where he had picked it up when he sat. Within the frame was a picture of a woman. The image must have been taken during happier times as the smile she sported was just as broad, if not more, that her entire face. That's the one thing he remembers the most about her, that enduring smile on her face. How he ever deserved the love of such a woman he still has no idea. He doesn't think its luck as he believes he's one of the most unlucky people anywhere. But whatever she saw in him, it had been enough for her to love him with everything she was. Although it took him long enough, but he did finally fall in love with her to the same degree she'd fallen for him. He learned to love her. In fact, he learned to love her so much that loving her became the only reason to live. And then she was gone, just like that, gone! Gone with the wind.As he was still reminiscing about his love, Sylvia came knocking on the door of his bedroom. She knew he wasn't going to say anything so she entered after knocking twice."I didn't tell you to come in," he said, trying to hide his vulnerability to her. But she already knew what he'd been doing. Every time he didn't come out of his room for three hours straight meant only one thing - he was mopping over the death of his wife."You have to eat sir," Sylvia said. "If you're going to lock yourself up here all day, it would make the rest of us feel better if you did it with a full stomach.""I'm not hungry."