Chapter 23: Pulling the First String

…continued from 1 June 2026...

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS FOUL LANGUAGE AND DESCRIPTIONS OF RACIAL PREJUDICE. DO NOT READ IF IT OFFENDS YOU

Despite the hour, the streets were alive with people just hanging about, drinking and eating, walking and talking, enjoying the warm night. 

Stanley found a parking spot about 10 metres from the fast-food shop. He and Aletta immediately drew attention by the way they were dressed. Aletta’s blonde hair also stood out in this mostly Coloured community. 

Immediately the cat-calls started, joined by wolf whistles and lewd comments. Stanley smiled at Aletta, who had become alarmed. “Just ignore them my skat, you’re safe with me, they don’t mean any harm.”

While Aletta trusted Stanley completely, she had her doubts about some of the clearly delinquent creatures blatantly staring at her. Stanley knew that if anything serious was going to go down, it would happen at the car.

The cat-calls stopped while they were in the shop, but resumed as soon as they came out.

Stanley instinctively focused on his peripheral vision. He noticed four well-built youths approaching him with intent. He knew that look; he knew that walk. He saw that their arms were slung casually next to their bodies, probably concealing a weapon of sorts up the sleeves of their hoodies.

Stanley’s street-smarts hit overdrive. Instantly he realised that they would not make it to the car in time, he could take on the four of them alone, but Aletta would be vulnerable.

Aletta had no idea of the impending danger. He grabbed her by the waist and propelled her back into the shop. She reacted with instant alarm. 

“Stanley! What’s going on?” she said concerned. “Just trust me my skat,” he whispered urgently into her ear.

He pushed her towards the flip top access to the serving area behind the counter and said to the lady who had served them. “Vat ha agtetoe en hou ha da, en bel die gattas nou.” (Take her to the back and keep her there, and call the police now.)

His voice was a command which should not be disobeyed. He spoke the slang Afrikaans that he knew the woman would understand. He also knew that she would understand from his language and tone that he was not someone to be messed with. The lady took Aletta’s hand and ran into the back of the shop with her, bolting the kitchen access to the front of the shop in the process. 

Stanley spun around and confronted his would-be assailants. Something wasn’t right about this, he felt it without knowing it. These guys, were… something was off about them…He realised it even though they were wearing balaclavas. 

They way they moved was different… what was it? These thoughts flashed through his brain in an instant, while simultaneously grabbing a large chef’s knife laying on the counter. “Kom julle naiers,” (Come on you fuckers). Stanley was in full gangster mode now and felt no fear.

Then one of the guys spoke, and Stanley was taken aback. “Hoekom gaan nai jy nie jou eie mense nie? (Why don’t you go fuck your own people?).

The guy’s accent identified him as a white Afrikaans kid. Stanley wondered what the fuck four Afrikaner white boys were doing in the Bo-Kaap, this late at night.

Continued tomorrow 3 June 2026, before 12pm