Xolisa and The Pink Sky

Xolisa bumps into a woman as he sprints down the road. If he runs fast enough, he will be just on time. “Watch it!” someone shouts as he speeds past. In his shoes, his socks are beginning to slip off. This particular morning reminds him of high school. The cold air, oversized socks with tight shoes, and the fear of being and feeling like a failure before the day has even begun. He approaches the Victoria and Alfred waterfront, and his heart begins to return to a normal pace. He has ten minutes to spare. “Wow,” he whispers to himself as he sees the boats floating down the harbour. The pink sky kisses the water as the sun begins to rise. At this moment, he is grateful, and the past two hours of stress are forgotten. He rechecks his watch, “5 minutes! Dammit!” 

An older gentleman dressed in the same uniform as Xolisa approaches, “Hello,” he says in Xhosa.

Xolisa replies, “Good morning, how are you, uncle? Do you know where the offices are? It's my first day.”

“Welcome”

Xolisa nods with excitement

“I'll take you to our office. I think you’re training with David." Xolisa notices the displeasure as he says David’s name, followed by a drawn-out sigh.  

Xolisa follows behind the man and mistakenly steps on the back of his heels. “Askies uncle,” . The man rolls his eyes.

“This place is beautiful. I’ve never seen a mall like this.” 

“After a while, the beauty of this place wears off and the bitterness underneath is unveiled,” replies the man in a pessimistic tone.

“I don't think I could ever get tired of that,” pointing to the pink horizon.

The old man stares at him blankly. They reach the office. 

“Howzit, my brother, where you from?” says David.

“I'm from Kariega,” .

“Ha Kariega,” stretching out the I accompanied with a friendly handshake 

“David”

“Xolisa” 

“Kariega,” David repeats with cheeriness.

“That place is dead yoh, you have nothing there,” David says jokingly in Xhosa.

“Yes, that is true, but PE is close,” Xolisa replies

David chuckles 

“Gqeberha has nothing also, only the beach”

“Ya neh, where are you from?” asks Xolisa

David chuckles again, “Makhanda.”

Xolisa laughs 

“Ha, it's better than Kariega, we have art there. I am a performer, you know?” says David.

Performer? Asks Xolisa

“Yebo boetie”, says David.

“Do you dance, sing, or what?” asks Xolisa

“ I do it all! We Makhanda people– we have talent, my brother.” 

David begins to explain their key responsibilities as security guards, Xolisa listens as though he hasn’t been memorising everything he wrote down at the interview for the past 72 hours. One alarm beep–check the area. Continuous alarm beeps– guide patrons to evacuate the area and follow emergency protocol. Stay on post– unless the supervisor instructed otherwise. Be calm and polite when dealing with customers. Stay alert. Listen and report to the radio for any suspicious activity. Xolisa takes in a large breath and slowly exhales. “Relax Kariega, this job is nice, man,” David says while handing him a cap resembling something similar to a sailor's hat. 

Xolisa places the hat on his head, looking at his reflection through the sparkly clean McDonald's window. He feels smart, confident, and professional in his new uniform. They patrol the Waterfront as though they alone hold its safety in their hands. Xolisa is slightly clumsy; he is frequently a step away from tripping over. He often bumps into people, and most of the time, he is confused when asked for directions. He is still memorising the mall map.

A pale woman in a Burberry shawl and bright red pumps approaches Xolisa. “Can you speak English?" she asks.  He codeswitches: “Yes ma'am, how can I help you?” This reminds him of his last English oral presentations with Miss Loubster, his lingering fear of white women and their privilege. “I can’t understand you”. David steps in to help her instead. His talented charm softens even the most stuck-up Cape Townian women. Xolisa notices David lick his lips as the woman walks away. 

David and Xolisa patrol the area while discussing what they would do if they were rich. 

“I’ll buy a yacht like that one,”  while pointing to the Mirage 760. If I have a yacht I don’t need anything else, no car, no house, no nothing. Why because I have my yacht" 

David and Xolisa chuckle.

The evening approaches, and the blue sky is becoming orange with a tint of pink. Their shift is almost over. They hear a scream. Xolisa’s heart begins to race with worry. David sprints towards the noise. Xolisa follows behind, dodging people running in the opposite direction. Two boys no older than 19 are tussling. “Gangsters!” someone screams. One boy pulls out a knife the size of  Xolisa’s forearm. David charges towards them. Harsh words are thrown from one to the other, “ Jou ma se..” “I'll kill you!” David falls hard. Without thinking, Xolisa lands a punch on one boy, then takes one in return. Moreguards approach and begin to cuff the boys. The rest of the crowd begins to scatter as police sirens start to sing. David is lying in his blood, his hand covering his rib. Xolisa is frozen. “Not this again.” A part of him wants to run and keep running until he is somewhere quiet. Perhaps he is not cut out for this job, he thinks.

“No one would care if I didn't show up for work again. I’m not right for this” he whispers to himself. Xolisa pulls him up. David’s weight slumped on his shoulder.“I’ve got you bra” .

He carries David through the mall, leaving a trail of his blood behind them. They reach the Clicks pharmacy. “Nurse! Nurse!” Xolisa screams.“She’s not here, just wait, I'll call her,” says the store manager, signaling them to stay outside the store. Xolisa places David on the floor beside him and lets him rest on his lap. “Thank you, Kariega,” says David. Xolisa observes his surroundings for a moment, people stare then continue walking–pretending they are invisible while horrified. This moment feels familiar. Similar to five years ago, when he held his best friend in his arms in this same position. “If only I had more time then,” he thinks. But today he is calm, present and ready.

They wait for what feels like hours. The nurse arrives. “What are you doing here? You’re attracting a lot of attention and look at the floor sies!” Go to the hospital or call an ambulance. David slurred, distraughtly, “No, no, no ambulance, not the hospital here, it's too much, too much money.” The nurse threw them some cloth to wrap around the wound. “Hold against your ribs” He carries David to the bus stop and attempts to take the 8 pm bus to the closest taxi rank. By some miracle, he sees someone from church. “I need your help, I can't explain, please take us to the hospital.” The man opens the car door. “Get in! Get in!”

Xolisa sits in the waiting room, his knuckles bruised and swollen, and his uniform soaked in red. The sun begins to rise, and the sky is a light tint of pink again. Pink is becoming his favourite colour.

One week later, Xolisa is seated in an overcrowded minibus taxi, listening to music through his earphones. He sprints to the morning meeting, bumping into a janitor. “Watch it!” “Xolo! Xolo!,” he says. Xolisa arrives at his post. David walks past and greets him with a friendly nod.

“Can you speak English?” an old lady with a walking stick asks. David smiles. “Yes, ma’am, how can I help you?”