wanted to avoid. I would rent a car, and I would drive to this town and that’s where I would take refuge until all of this was over. Until they got bored of watching me cling to the bonnet of a car, or crying into the screen, snotty bubbles coming out of my nose, and they moved on to the next big story. And then maybe in a week, a few weeks, maybe even a month, I could re-emerge and #reinvent myself on social media as someone completely new. Someone different. Better! Like a butterfly from a cocoon, I could step out with new, shiny wings. I could start afresh. Maybe I would delete my old accounts and start new ones. Maybe I would start a podcast and dye my hair like an eGirl and do funny sketches on TikTok. I could be funny! The possibilities were infinite and for the first time since leaving that elevator, I felt a little bolt of hope.
CHAPTER 2
“I’m sorry,” I said looking down at the car, trying to hide my obvious disgust. “Is this the only car you have?”
“Yes,” the man replied.
“You sure?”
The man nodded solemnly.
“You don’t perhaps have another one in the back, or maybe in a storeroom or—”
“Only one!” It sounded like he was getting irritated now. I didn’t blame him. I was starting to sound like a stuck record. But I was also feeling irritated. I’d already been to two car-hire places, both of which had no cars to hire to me. I was itching to get out of Joburg, and the longer I stayed here, the more I felt like I might explode.
“I see.” I tilted my head and looked at it, trying to see if I could find its one redeeming feature. Half a redeeming feature would do.
The man sighed. “Look, in case you haven’t noticed, the big Design Indaba is happening in Joburg, and most car rental places are fully booked. So yes, this is the only car left and you probably won’t find another one anywhere else.”
“It’s very blue,” I stated. “I mean, it’s very, very blue, isn’t it? I’ve just . . . well, I didn’t know a car could be so blue. And what with those big, shiny gold rims—God, they really are big—it certainly makes the blue pop, doesn’t it?”
The guy nodded, and I started walking around the blue beast.
“And as for that, what would you call it on the back? A wing? A canopy?”
“Fin,” he qualified.
“Right. It’s very big. So big and . . . Wow! So high off the trunk. It really protrudes!” I walked around to the front of the car again. “And what would you call that hole on the bonnet, a nostril?” I crouched down and looked at the bottom of the car. “It’s really low to the ground, isn’t it? I don’t think I could get a piece of paper between this oversized bumper—God, this bumper is huge—and the road. It’s almost touching.” I looked over my shoulder at the man behind me. “I suppose you’ll tell me not to drive over bumps in the road?”
He nodded. “That would be preferable.”
“And . . . is this a strip of LED lights on the bumper?” I asked, pointing.
“It gives the car a blue under-glow.”
“Blue! Right. Because this car could use more blue.” And then something else caught my eye. Blue fluffy dice hanging from the mirror.
I heard the man huff, and swiveled to look at him.
“Look, are you going to take the car or not?” He wasn’t bothering to hide his obvious irritation.
I glanced back at it again; it was certainly a strange-looking thing, and under normal circumstances, I would never be seen dead in something like this. But I needed a car and my cute little Mercedes hatchback had been taken away from me.
“And you say it’s available on long-term rental?” I asked.
The man laughed now. “Sure, it’s not like anyone has ever taken it bef—” he stopped and cleared his throat. “Yes, it’s available long term.” And then he turned his head and I thought I heard him mumble, “The longer the better.”
I put my hands on my hips and started nodding. “Okay! I’ll take it for a month. What the hell, right?”
After signing the papers, I was handed the key and a small bag of complimentary mints. I made my way over to the car and tried to open the door.
“You have to press the immobilizer first before you can use the key.” He pointed