Free The Colour of Gold by Oliver T Spedding Page B

sagged. The storeroom owner called one of his
assistants.
    “Open the box
that this boy’s holding.” he instructed the man and then lifted the
large empty box lying in the alley. Everyone’s attention was now
focused on what was taking place in the alley and they gasped as
they saw the box of Black Label hidden there.
    The assistant
took the box from Isaiah and placed it on the pavement. He tore
open the lid and took out one of the bottles filled with water. Out
of the corner of his eye Isaiah saw Steve quietly stand up and walk
away. Nobody else noticed.
    “So!” the
storeroom owner said. “You were trying to steal a box of my Black
Label whisky and replace it with a case of bottles filled with
water! Very clever, but not clever enough! I’ve been in this game
for too long to be caught by an old trick like that.”
    The storeroom
owner turned to his assistant.
    “Call the
police.” he said.
    Isaiah knew
that he had to do something. In desperation he pointed towards the
group of workers standing staring at him.
    “What about
him?” Isaiah said and the storeroom owner turned to look at the men
behind him. The instant the man’s head turned away, Isaiah pivoted
and raced away along the pavement, dodging desperately through the
throng of pedestrians.
    “Catch that
man!” the storeroom owner shouted but to Isaiah’s surprise nobody
tried to stop him. He dashed across the street causing traffic the
swerve and stop. Hooters blared but Isaiah raced on, bumping into
people and almost falling several times.
    After he had
run two city blocks Isaiah slowed and looked back. Nobody appeared
to be following him. He gasped for breath and leant against the
wall of a building, sweat pouring down his face. Nobody took any
notice of him. Gradually he calmed himself and when he felt that he
had regained his composure he walked off towards the building where
he had been living.
    As Isaiah
walked he realised that he had to get out of Hillbrow. The police
would probably be looking for him and he was too well known by his
fellow “illegals”. If the police offered a reward for his capture
it would be a matter of hours before someone told them of his
whereabouts. His only option was to go to Soweto where he could
easily hide until he decided what to do next. He hurried to the
room he’d been renting, stuffed his belongings into a large plastic
shopping bag. As his rent was paid for the rest of the week he
didn't feel bad about leaving without giving notice. He hurried
down the fire escape and into the busy street. As he walked towards
Park Station with the intention of going to hide in Soweto, he saw
the young newspaper seller who had helped him when he first arrived
in Johannesburg. Isaiah hurried to where the young business was
standing selling his newspaper on the street corner.
    "Hello." he
said. "Do you remember me?"
    "Of course."
the young boy replied. "I gave you some advice when you arrived
here from Natal a few weeks ago. You look worried. What's the
problem?"
    "I'm in trouble
with the police." Isaiah replied. "I'm sure that they're looking
for me right now. I'm thinking of going to Soweto to hide. Will I
be safe there?"
    "Whenever
someone gets into trouble with the police, the first place they
think of going to, to hide, is Soweto." the boy said. "The police
know this so whenever they want to catch someone they go to Park
Station and wait there. You should rather go to the "no-man's land"
between Jo'burg and Soweto. You'll be much safer there until the
police stop looking for you. You might even be able to find work
with the illegal miners who work in the abandoned mines there."
    Isaiah's eyes
opened wider and he nodded.
    "I've heard of
that place and the miners who work there." he said.
    It wasn't long
after Isaiah had moved into his accommodation at the top of the
apartment building that he had begun to hear stories about illegal
gold miners who searched for gold in the hundreds of abandoned gold
mines scattered across