written up on Des's action whiteboard. The designer and the publicity chick are dead-ends, straight business, slightly perplexed as to why I'd be calling. The only person of interest is Heather Yalo, who just so happens to be the manager for mega names like Leah and Noluthando Meje. When I introduce myself, she says, "It wouldn't be appropriate to talk to the media yet," and hangs up on me. I wonder if Huron knows that Des is planning a coup.
I set something up for tonight, with help from Gio, who "knows people". I also put in a message to Vuyo.
>>Kahlo999: I need a favour.
>>Vuyo: I heard about ur mkwerekwere. I can help. U write the letter. Ill get an official letterhead.
I'm too busy wrestling the spiteful flip of hope in my chest to care about where Vuyo got his intel from. The Company has more eyes than the inner-city CCTV surveillance system when it comes to protecting its interests. And I have my suspicions about who has been informing on me. I wouldn't be at all surprised if his name is D'Nice Languza.
>>Kahlo999: What are you talking about?
>>Vuyo: "Tragically, the International Red Cross DRC were misinformed. Benoit Bocangas wife and children are dead."
>>Kahlo999: You are a twisted SHIT of a human being.
>>Vuyo: Could even provide photos of the bodies. U need to get me references for Photoshopping tho.
>>Kahlo999: Shut the fuck up, Vuyo. It's not an option.
>>Vuyo: Touchy.
>>Kahlo999: You're not listening to me. I need three things: I need to find out if a cellphone number has been used in the last four days. I need to access a MXit account. And I need to find out if a life insurance policy has been registered on a particular party.
>>Vuyo: Itll cost u.
>>Kahlo999: R5000. Add it to my tab.
>>Vuyo: 12. With interest. Send me details.
>>Kahlo999: Out of curiosity. Does the Company do trafficking?
>>Vuyo: Are u sure u don't have police sitting next to u?
>>Kahlo999: Pretty sure.
>>Vuyo: U havent installed the firewall.
>>Kahlo999: I think you're up in my business enough already. C'mon, Vuyo. Trafficking? Sex slavery?
>>Vuyo: Company has wide interests.
>>Kahlo999: If I wanted to find out if someone had been kidnapped? By a dealer? Forced into prostitution?
>>Vuyo: Not kidnapping if they come of own accord.
>>Kahlo999: I think our definitions of "own accord" may differ. Can I give you a name?
>>Vuyo: This is an expensive favour girl. There is a price for what happens next.
>>Kahlo999: I think I know someone who can pay that price.
It turns out that slipping back into Former Life is as easy as pulling on a dress. Fashion is only different skins for different flavours of you. Tonight, I am peach schnapps. Nervous as a fourteen year-old trying to sneak into a club for the first time. Did I say "a" dress? I meant nine. Which is the total extent of what I own.
Sloth huffs grumpily, sprawled out on the floor with a bunch of cassava leaves I got at the market downstairs to placate him (along with a tub of wood lice for the Mongoose). If I could leave Sloth behind, I would. But the feedback loop of the separation anxiety is crippling. Crack cravings have nothing on being away from your animal.
After trying on all nine dresses, twice, with an intermission period spent trying to recapture the wood lice that escaped when Sloth grumpily up-ended the tub, I settle on skinny jeans and a surprisingly tasteful black strappy top I borrow from one of the prostitutes on the third floor, after giving up in disgust on my wardrobe. When I say borrow, I mean rent. She assures me it's clean. For thirty bucks, I'm dubious, but it passes the sniff test, so fuck it.
I catch a taxi into Auckland Park with the late-night cleaners, the nurses and the restaurant dish-washers: the invisible tribe of behind-the-scenes. I get off after Media Park and walk up to 7th Street with its scramble of restaurants, bars and Internet caf茅s. Outside the Mozambican deli-cum-Internet caf茅, a hawker tries to sell me a star lantern made of wire and paper and, when I decline, offers me marijuana instead.
I used to stomp here. Got bust smoking dope in my readily identifiable school uniform on the koppie and was suspended for two weeks. Did my first line of coke in the bathrooms of Buzz 9. Had snatched sex in a driveway on 8th before the homeowner called armed response. This should not be so intimidating. But when I see Gio fiddling intently with his