Free Mindf**k by Fanie Viljoen Page A

ticket was sticking out of the ashtray. I handed it to the guard at thegate and quickly paid. ‘Keep the change.’
    I didn’t want him getting too close to the car and having a better look. He might notice that there wasn’t a key in the ignition. When he lifted the barrier, I drove out, relieved. I stepped on the gas pedal and the car roared forward.
    The road back home was like a bad trip in which Partygirl didn’t feature anymore.

    A car turned off with me at the Nelson Mandela exit at Bloem. And right again to Langenhoven Park. It followed me through the streets. Past the Pick ’n Pay, down Dirk Opperman Street.
    The car’s windows were tinted but I recognized the car.
    It was Kerbs.
    Fuck knows, I didn’t have the strength to deal with him.
    My heart started racing, I didn’t know why. We were friends. But something had changed. I felt it in my gut.
    What did he want?
    I stopped at the Caltex garage and left the car there.
    Kerbs drove by. I saw him turning his head in my direction when he drove past me, his arm hanging out the open window.
    I raised my hand to greet him but he had already turned his head away, his eyes fixed on the road.
    I quickly started for home, on foot. I wished I could have just driven back to my house but I couldn’t show up at home with a stolen car. It would have been plain stupid.
    It was a long way home. I glanced back occasionally while still keeping my pace. Kerbs could have appeared behind me again at any moment. There were too many cars around. I tripped over a rock when theumpteenth car drove past and I glanced fearfully over my shoulder.
    When I finally reached our road I quickened my pace. And then I saw it: Kerbs’ car was parked on the sidewalk.
    He was waiting for me.
    Smaller steps. Smaller and smaller steps.
    Something has changed.
    Rapidly increasing heartbeat, sweat running down my back.
    My eyes slipped out of focus, then back in focus.
    What did he want?
    I approached, saw the painted flames on the doors, the bumper sticker:
Just visiting this planet
. The word
Kerberos
was painted on the car’s boot. Kerbs found it in a book. In the Greek mythology Kerberos was a hellhound with multiple heads that welcomed people to the realm of the dead. He had to see to it that they couldn’t get back out again.
    Kerbs got out of the car. He stood there in the open door, smiling in very much the same manner as Friday night, that devilish smirk.
    ‘Where were you?’ he asked. His voice sounded weird. Friendly and firm at the same time.
    ‘Don’t worry, I know,’ he said before I could answer. ‘You should stay away from there. You’re gonna drop us all in the shit.’
    ‘I had to go and look.’
    ‘At what?’
    ‘If she is really dead.’
    ‘But you know that she’s dead.’
    ‘I saw her.’
    ‘We all did.’
    ‘Afterwards. When we came back.’
    ‘You’re talking shit and you know it.’
    ‘No.’
    Kerbs slammed the car door closed. He approached. ‘And? Is she really dead?’
    ‘The grave is still there.’
    ‘But is she in the grave?’ Again that unearthly laugh. Mocking, as if he knew the answer.
    ‘I don’t know. Probably. I couldn’t dig it up, there were people.’
    ‘Oh, you’re fucked in the head, Burns. So let me help you.’ He now stood right in front of me, forcing a whisper through his clenched teeth: ‘She’s fucking dead. We killed her and –’
    ‘You killed her! We only helped to buryher.’
    ‘No, Burns, we did it. Remember? You took her first. Got your rocks off and everything. And then I took her, and then Sky –’
    ‘Sky was outside the tent the entire time. He only saw her when she was dead already.’
    ‘No, Burns. You’ve got it wrong. First you, then me, then Sky. And then you again. And you bashed her head against the gas cylinder. You were fucking wild, Burns. I couldn’t believe it. Not from you, buddy.’
    His words slashed through my mind. That wasn’t how it happened. Fuck knows, it wasn’t.
    ‘No, Kerbs.