Free Deadlands by Lily Herne

date!’ Zyed said.
    ‘It’s final, Zyed,’ his father said. ‘Leletia is new at Malema High, and she has no one else to go with. I’m sure your other date will understand.’
    Zyed glared at me as if it was my fault that his father had come up with this horrible idea. ‘Yes, sir,’ he mumbled before slinking off.
    ‘Teenagers,’ Comrade Nkosi rolled his eyes. ‘I must apologise for my son’s bad manners.’
    ‘It’s no problem,’ the Mantis said with a tinkly laugh I’d never heard her use before.
    Comrade Nkosi made as if to turn away, but then he clicked his fingers as something else occurred to him. ‘Cleo. About your other child,’ his eyes slipped to Jobe again, and his mouth twitched slightly in distaste. ‘I’m afraid there are no places available in the immediate vicinity for him, but there is somewhere else that might take him.’
    I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. ‘What?’
    The Mantis gripped my arm tightly. ‘We’ll talk when we get home,’ she hissed in my ear.
    Comrade Nkosi appeared to be oblivious to the look of shock on my face. ‘Mandela House is not in the best area of town, but, as institutions go, I think you’ll find it adequate,’ he carried on. ‘As soon as the paperwork is finalised, I’ll let you know.’
    ‘Thank you, Comrade,’ the Mantis said, her fingernails now digging painfully into my skin to silence me.

13
    ‘Well?’ I said. ‘What the hell was he talking about?’
    Dad and the Mantis had insisted that Jobe was put to bed before we discussed the meaning behind Comrade Nkosi’s words, and the wait had almost killed me. We sat around the kitchen table, Dad nursing a mug of tea; the Mantis sitting erect, hands folded in front of her. I don’t think I’ve ever hated someone as much as I hated her right then.
    Dad cleared his throat. ‘Your mother and I feel –’
    ‘My mother’s dead.’
    The Mantis didn’t change her expression, but Dad flinched slightly. ‘Must you always be so difficult, Lele?’ he sighed.
    The Mantis spoke up. ‘We’ve decided that it would be best if Jobe went to a . . . place where children like him can get proper care.’
    ‘You can’t do that!’
    Dad held up his hand. ‘Just listen, Lele –’
    ‘But why?’
    ‘He’ll be with others of his kind.’
    ‘He’s not a
kind
. He’s my brother!’
    ‘Yes, but let’s face it. He is . . . different.’
    ‘That’s not his fault!’
    ‘I know that, Lele,’ Dad said.
    ‘I’ll look after him. I promise I will!’
    ‘You don’t have the time. You have to go to school.’
    ‘No, I don’t. I’ll become a worker, a rickshaw driver, a builder – I don’t care!’
    Dad sighed again. ‘Lele, your moth . . . Cleo and I are working very hard to try to improve the conditions in the city,’ he said. ‘You know this. It won’t be long before everyone will have access to electricity and –’
    ‘What’s that got to do with Jobe?’
    ‘I’m not going to be around all the time,’ Dad said. ‘We can’t leave him on his own.’
    ‘Well, hire someone to look after him then!’ The tears were pouring down my face, but I let them fall.
    ‘We can’t afford that sort of expense.’
    ‘But you can afford to send him to . . . Mandela House, or whatever that place is called!’
    ‘Look, it’s not going to happen straight away. But we need you to come to terms with the idea.’
    ‘Yeah, right. That’s total kak! If Comrade Nkosi hadn’t said anything you wouldn’t even have told me!’
    Now even the Mantis began to look uncomfortable. I pushed my chair back so violently that it crashed to the floor. ‘I hate you!’ I said, staring straight at the Mantis. ‘This is all down to you!’
    ‘Lele!’ Dad said. ‘That’s enough!’
    ‘You didn’t want us here!’ I carried on. ‘You want Dad all to yourself! You’re nothing but a cruel, evil
bitch
!’
    Dad got to his feet. ‘Leletia! That’s enough! How
dare
you talk to your mother that