“Thandi, wait!” Margot says. She’s opening the latch on the gate.
“You didn’t have to lie to me,” Thandi says as soon as her sister approaches.
“Ah didn’t think you’d understand.”
“You could have told me that it was her.” Thandi has this odd feeling that they are being watched from a window inside the pink house.
Margot touches Thandi on the arm. “I’m sorry—”
Thandi pulls away. She starts to run, ignoring Margot’s plea for her to come back. She cuts through a grassy area, wiping away tears from her face. Her feet pound the ground, stirring up dust. She has to find Charles. Her bookbag slaps against her back the way it did that day when she chased him through the streets. When she reaches Sam Sharpe Square, she turns and turns, unsure where to look first. She doesn’t know where Jullette is hiding Charles. Who could she talk to? Where can she go? She sits outside and observes the gradual chaos of the shoppers, hoping Jullette will appear. Thandi waits the whole day, until sundown and the sky becomes a stunning shade of violet and fuchsia.
On the street she spots two women in short tube dresses. One of them has rail-thin limbs. The rest of her looks like parts belonging to another woman—a high, round ass upon which one could rest an elbow, and sizable breasts that squeeze together inside the dress like two breadfruits, the way grocers display them in the square. The other woman is big all around—her voluptuous frame snug in the little elastic dress that looks like it’s about to bust open when she heaves and sighs from the fitful coughs caused by the smoke from her cigarette. The women are standing together behind the veils of smoke, their eyes alert on the pedestrians. The skinny one digs into her purse for a small compact mirror. She grins to check for lipstick stains on her teeth and pats her short black wig. But really it seems as though she’s trying to check out the man who just passed them by—as if to gauge if he’s looking back at her. Her fat friend shakes her head when she turns and sees that the man is walking straight ahead, not even giving them a backward glance. The skinny one puts the mirror back inside her purse and rolls her eyes. Thandi approaches them.
“Can we help you?” the fat woman asks. Up close she looks a lot older than she dresses, the skin on her face ashy and drooping as though all the elasticity has been worn.
“Yes, I think so,” Thandi says, uncertain.
The two women glance at each other before they look at Thandi. “How much?” the skinny woman asks. She’s wearing a lot more makeup, complete with fake eyelashes and a drawn-on mole on her upper lip.
“I—uh.” Thandi is speechless.
The women burst out laughing. “Lawd, Doreen, yuh laugh like a damn hyena! No wondah why no man nuh want yuh!”
“Shut yuh claat, gyal. Yuh laugh like faa’ting donkey.”
The fat woman taps her friend on the forehead and her friend fans her off, the way one fans off a person they’re used to joking with. She turns back to Thandi. “What is it dat yuh need help wid, baby?”
“I need help finding someone. A girl name Jullette.”
“Why not look har up in di directory? What’s her last name?”
“Rose.”
That’s when the fat woman slaps her hand on her forehead, nearly knocking off her red wig. “Oh, Sweetness!” She hits her friend on the shoulder. “Doreen, she ah talk ’bout Sweetness!”
Doreen’s eyes light up. “Oh, Sweetness! Yes, yes, me know who she is!” She turns to Thandi. Then to her friend she says, “Annette, yuh t’ink we should—”
“Big boss would know,” Annette offers, cutting off Doreen. She lights another cigarette.
“Who?” Thandi asks.
“Big boss. She come aroun’ dese parts an’ recruit girls. Di younger ones.”
“She?”
“Yeah, man. Is a woman who’s in charge ah dese girls. We call har boss lady or big boss,” Doreen says. “She oversee everything, from how much di girls get pay to when dem get lay. Me an’ Annette is we own boss. We sleep wid who we please, when we please. An’ di money we earn is ours to keep.”
“How can I find her?” Thandi asks.
“Trus’ me. Yuh g’wan haffi be careful. She might convince yuh to work fah har. Dat woman, from what I hear, is a snake. A vicious one.”
“So can you help me?”
The women glance at each other. Then Annette waves Thandi to follow her. She stuffs the pack of cigarettes inside her brassiere and lifts her breasts so that they stand up. She walks with a slight limp.
37