Free Danger Woman by Frederick Ramsay

didn’t they? Shouldn’t they stay at home with their mothers? She thanked Modimo every day for this miracle and worried anyway. What if there had been no miracle and he relapsed?
    She parked the door-less Land Rover on the gravel lot and poked her head in the garage. The men who were working on automobiles smiled and greeted her. She could hardly make herself heard over the din caused by the panel beaters hammering and grinding. No, they shouted, Michael had not arrived at work today. No, they did not think he was sick. When they said this, one or two of them grinned. Sanderson wondered at that.
    She thanked them and rounded the building corner to climb the stairs to Michael’s flat. She tried the door handle. Locked? She knocked. No answer. Now, she had a reason to worry. His friends said he was not sick but, how would they know? Would he tell them if he was? Maybe he was lying in bed feverish and sweating with his disease back again? She remembered that all too well, this fading away disease. Should she call the ambulance service? She pounded on the door.
    Something or someone stirred inside. The door opened a few centimeters. Two eyes peered out. Not Michael’s eyes.
    â€œYes? Who is it?”
    â€œIs Michael home? Is he all right?” Who belonged to these eyes?
    â€œYou are Mma Michael.” Not a question.
    â€œYes, what has happened?” The eyes disappeared.
    â€œMichael, it is your momma.”
    The door clicked shut. What is this? The door is closed on me? Sanderson knocked again. Michael’s voice, muffled by the closed door. “I am here, Ma. Coming.” The door swung open again, all the way.
    â€œMichael, are you ill? The men downstairs are saying you did not come to work today.” Sanderson lifted herself up on tiptoes and tried to peek into the room behind her son.
    Michael smiled and stepped aside to let her in. “Sorry, come in.”
    It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. Michael had the blinds drawn. Why do this in the middle of the day? Then she saw the girl, the young woman, the owner of the eyes at the door earlier.
    â€œMa, this is Sekgele Andersen. You know her father.”
    â€œYou are the daughter of the Hyena Man. Yes, I see.” Did she?
    The girl nodded and dropped her gaze to the floor.
    â€œSo, Michael…?”
    â€œSekgele and I, we are—”
    â€œI think I am old enough to see what you two are about, Michael. But, are you well enough and…can you be safe with this girl?”
    In a country which struggled with AIDS, the whole area of human sexuality and relationships had acquired an entirely different focus than in most other places.
    â€œWe are protected, if that is what you are asking, and before you go there, no, her father does not know.”
    â€œHe must be told, Michael. He has a right to know.”
    â€œHe will not allow it because of the AIDS, Ma. Sekgele and I, we are in love and this is what we must do.”
    â€œNo, I am sorry, Michael, but this is not what you must do. You must be honest with Sekgele’s father. He is a respectable man and has the right to know. He raised you by himself, Sekgele. It could not have been an easy thing for him. If the situation were reversed, I would want to know.”
    â€œWe can talk of this later. Are you to visit or to play momma with me?”
    â€œYou be careful how you say that, Mister. You may be a big man now but, I was the one who changed your nappies. You can repair an engine but, I taught you how to use a spoon.”
    â€œYes, Ma. Sorry. What else can I do?”
    â€œSo, okay, I came to ask a favor. I am driving one of our older Game Ranger vehicles. It has lost its doors. They came loose and were removed for fear they would drop off while the truck was moving and be broken past fixing. I have put in many work orders and nothing has happened. It is parked downstairs. Can you help me and replace the doors on the