Craig’s Welcome Back

The Next Morning.

On the couch asleep is Barbara, her face to the wall and wearing her clothes from the day before. Her permed colored hair a mess. Curled up on the two tiny foot rests next to the couch is Craig, also asleep like dutiful watch dog. He had not left her side all night. The floor was stained with innumerable spills and smudged and littered with smashed crisps. 5 distinct burns in one area under the table where the coals fell off the hubbly-bubbly on to the carpet. Irreparable damage. On the screen door at the height of a grown mans face is an oily face smudge. Empty and half full beer cans populated every surface. Outside, a greasy braai stand still stands surrounded by fallen and broken garden furniture, carpet flattened grass, chicken bones and countless cigarette buts. On the ottoman sleeps Laurence, wearing jeans, jersey zipped up to the top and sneakers.

Craig and Laurence both have their own room but were both, one way or another, forced to lodge in the living room. Craig didn’t sleep in his room because the girl he was after didn’t sleep there. On the other hand, Laurence didn’t sleep in his room because a girl he was not after slept in his bed, naked.

I came down from my room to the sound of laughter. Augustine and Cockaroach were just leaving (more on where they slept later). The chuckling wouldn’t stop. I thought it was about Augustine and his amorous endeavors from the previous night. Augustine bid farewell saying “Thanks for the party guys, now I need to erase my memory”.

But no, the jokes about Augustine had now moved on to Eric. Eric told the joke.

“I woke up, thinking my chick was in my bed” he said, with a comic smile on his face. “I was butt naked and I put my arm around her and thought “this is a rather thick arm. This chick has got huge muscles” but then I realized” and his eyes lit up and this point and he said “This is not my chick, this is Augustine!” and we all broke out into laughter, even though Craig, Barbera and Laurence, now awake, were hearing the story for the third time.

Craig winged “Ah, you chi-Eric, showing us your bums like that!”
“What? I didn’t show you any bums?” Eric denied.
“After you finished with your ka-chick up stairs, you came and worried us with your pants half way down your bums last night.”
Eric turned to me asked “ah sat, was I that drunk?”
I raised my eye brows at the stupid question and said “you came down here with your shorts half way down your bum, no bambas, showing the crack of your ass. You were dancing to Salsa, body slamming the two girls on the ottoman and did a kapwa-era dance that nearly broke the high-fi when you fell”.
“So that is where the carpet burns on my elbows and feet are from” Eric said as he examined his wounds closer. He had thought he got them from the rough sex he had on his flayed mattress.
“Good! You must learn” said Craig with a smug smile.

Indeed that is how we spent the rest of the day, laughing and telling stories, while ignoring the state of the house. Instead we rummaged about the debris, and picked at old crisps and drank the extra beers. All the stories about the night before, the hilarious solecisms and shameful debauchery were told and retold from different angles and by different peoples. Each version some how more hilarious than the one before. Oh, how we laughed!

We had to try keep our voices down however, as we were not sure who was still in the house. At that stage we were not sure that Augustine and Cockaroach’s partners for the night had left. We thought they were still sprawled out in Craig and Laurence’s beds. Indeed, the most juicy stories and hilarious recollections were about the adventures of the two girls we thought to be still lurking and sleeping about the house. But the whispering only made the stories more juicy to tell. For an hour we hissed and giggled before it transpired that they had left long before any of us had woken up, though some time after the last of us had fallen asleep. This explains how Augustine came to be in Eric’s bed. With his partner gone so early, he saw no need to return to his bed of the night, and so after the toilet he simply got into the nearest bed, Eric’s. On the other hand, I can’t help but suspect that Augustine took some sort of comfort in sharing a bed with Eric, who had no clothes on.

The Party

“Look at the garden” I said trying to reconstruct a chair. “To think we worked so hard to clean this place.”
“You know, it’s the only thing that gets us to clean the house, these parties” said Eric.
“Ya but then the house is only cleaned once in every two weeks. And then the place gets trashed straight after”
“Even now” Craig agreed, still sitting next to Barbera.
“Jumani and I even went shopping an-all. Eric with his sickness managed to clean the bathroom. Ol-Juma did the kitchen. I don’t know where Laurence went”
“Ah, rubbish” hissed Eric.
“But what was that rubbish you bought me” Eric interjected with an insolent scowl on his face. “bloody Sainsbury’s Brandy ek sê. Even if I was sick ek sê, I can’t be drinking that shit.”
“boeta I am telling you, that is all there was except for bloody twenty year old brandy for thirty pounds” replied Craig in his most Zambian of accents.
“Even now! That would have been better.” Winged Eric.

In the mean time Laurence loaded a song on to iTunes and Eric, now sitting outside in the sun said “What is he playing now? Not Symphony of Sorrowful Songs again?” and let out a goofy and haughty laughter. Laurence has a CD titled Symphony of Sorrowful Songs, a classical piece by a Polish composer that he has only ever played once. Eric though, will not let him off the hook for it. Any CD Laurence puts in the machine now gets a retort from Eric “Not Sorrowful Songs again!”

“and Laurence with that ka-dance of yours?” jibed Barbara, still sitting next to Craig.
“His face looks like he is in pain when he does it.” Eric said as he proceeded to imitate Laurence’s all shoulders and furrowed eye brows dance.

The Party Pair

“Ya, but what about those two chicks who showed up drunk? Did you see them dancing? Two weeks ago no one danced until after nine. This time there was dancing at six already!”
Craig, while smiling at Barbara added “You mean Evelyn and what’s her name…..Jane. mmmmmh!, but no, it was too much man. Even if it is for being drunk. Like that? So early!”
“Yahgh, you want chicks to come sober” protested Eric. “They were just not hot. That’s all. But I was so excited. I met that ka-Evelyn item on Facebook. I tuned her come to the party. And when she said she was bringing her friend Jane, I was like yahhhh, it is on.”

To me, the pair seemed quite sensible when they arrived. I did think they rushed it to dance a little, but Ntheye and Odemi were all over the floor too, as well as all over each other. They were friendly, and made a point of going around to talk to every person present, in some ways they didn’t stop there. I had a good talk to each of them when they accosted me at the braai stand after Augustine had absconded his duties as chief braai master (a duty he somehow gets at every braai he goes to). One of them is a qualified psychologist. The two had only met recently at church. The mention of church of made me very weary. Never the less, I think this is point at which Jane gave me the opening to ‘Lay it on thick on her.’ As usual, I was not up for the task.

By midnight, the two girls were walking into things, guys included. I was not surprised to see half Jane’s face inside Cockaroach’s mouth on the couch, as Ntheye and Odemi continued their body swinging genital gyrations on the dance floor. In the mean time, Evelyn garbled nonsense conversation to me by the stairs through her red wine stained teeth. I knew at the time that it was my opportunity to take to my room. But something in me held back and the demons in me were disappointed.

At one point Cockaroach, Augustine, Evelyn and Jane were paired outside in the dark (the outside light chose this night to give out).
“They are doing it in the grass!” screamed Eric, genuinely alarmed. In matters of uncomfortable sex, Eric feels great empathy. Eric brought fornicating pairs in, gave them condoms and sent them upstairs to the bedrooms. Of course he was careful not to let them use his room, but mine and Laurence’s instead.

Morning turned to afternoon. Stories we told. Fresh stories, delicious like hot buns on a Sunday after church. Not yet cold, the house not yet clean. We would not leave single incident without reflection. Anything that was laughed at the day before had to be laughed at again. Every bit of gossip had to be gossiped to its bear most bits. We told and retold these stories like a wood carver polishes a master piece.

Ntheye and Odemi

“What about Ntheye yesterday?” opened Craig, from the garden chair next to Barbera’s garden chair.
“Eish! the brother was something else yesterday. The way he was dancing with that ka-chick.” I said.
“What was her name?” asked Laurence.
“Odemi” said Eric with another haughty laugh. “Those Nigerians! I can never.”
“I mean, she had her ankles on his shoulders” commenting on the way Ntheye and Odemi had danced. “I just looked at the dance floor and saw her shoes by his ears. I just thought oh-finish” said Craig with a chuckle. “boeta you know he almost dropped her uh?. He was dragging her head on the floor!”

“And didn’t people worry me” I said. “Every little thing, I had people asking me this, asking me that. “Jumani I need a drink. Where are the glasses? Where can I put this? Do have a number for a cab?”  Even shit that had nothing to do with me. Like when Ntheye and Odemi hooked up in the bathroom”
“yauh, yauh, yauh” laughed Eric.
“Why couldn’t those two just take a room. They even queued for the bathroom on the steps” said Craig.
“Well, people were certainly queuing on the steps when they were in the bathroom”
“So now for some reason, peeps decided that I was the only one who could tell Ntheye and Odemi to use a bedroom, my bedroom for that matter” I complained, not for the first time either.
“We knew that you would agree. Besides, he is your friend” said Eric.
“Ya” I said “Ntheye is my boy. We go way back. If he wants to use my room, he must use my room. But it had to be me to knock on the door and tell them to stop their ejaculation and ecstasy and relocate to the bedroom. I didn’t want to see that shit. I would be scarred. Thank goodness they had the sense to move on their own accord before I was forced to move them.”
“Don’t tell me about being scarred” said Laurence. “You not the one who saw a naked woman in your bed. And Augustine, he still had all his clothes on!”
“That shits just not right” I said.
“Yaaah, what about the other two. I found them, the chick was fully clothed and Cockaroach was butt naked.” Laughed Eric. “I shouted at them “what are you doing!” that is not how your supposed to do it. Your both supposed to take yo clothes”
“I scheme you just like sex too much you” snorted Craig.

Zani and her Crew

“What about you Craig, what did you say to Zani to piss her off so much” I asked as I made a half hearted attempt to tidy the outside deck in the back yard.
“I don’t know. I didn’t tune that ka-chick anything”
“yaah, she kept on saying how she was pissed off with you” said Laurence.
“She kept on saying “tell your friend Craig I don’t like him. He’s stuck up””

Zani had made a strong showing at this party, as she had done two weeks before. Not the first to arrive this time though, and without her friend Nomsa. Zani brought with her Ntsiki, looking more on this second round with new dreadlock extensions. Zani brought her bubbly Greek boyfriend Versellus and a very friendly South African Indian girl called Rakhi. They had been to a braai already before they showed up, and when they left at 11pm they were off to some club or something in town. The energy some people have on a Saturday! Not that she wasn’t welcome. Not at all. Heck, without her, there would be no black South African girls at the party. Unacceptable. In such a situation, how would Laurence get with any girl?

“No but Craig, what did you say to that item for her to be so pissed off with you?” I inquired.
“Nothing. I didn’t tune that chick nothing.”
“You must have said something”
And then Craig continued “But her boyfriend. That own was irritating man. He was all over the place talking nonsense. I even had to ask him “what are you doing here, who are you?”
To this, Barbera, Eric, Laurence and I screamed “WHAT!?”
“You can’t tell someone that” Eric said, as Laurence laughed.
“Now I know what you did. Or rather what you did to her boyfriend. How can you ask an own that? Eish, she hates you now, properly”

All The Pretty Girls

“Mmmmmh, I am hungry. I didn’t even get to eat any of that chicken man” growled Eric. “Did you have any?”
“Nope” I said looking quite forlorn. “After all that marinating and braaing. I braaied a span! Didn’t even get one piece. Did you get any Craig?”
“Yah, I had one. It was Ntheye and Augustine who clapped the chicken. They had like two-three pieces each”
“And that chicken looked so lekker man” moaned Eric. “And I didn’t get any of my potato salad either” 
“Well, lets make another one” I suggested.

I then proceeded to defrost and cut up another chicken. I spiced it with olive oil, tandoori powder, coriander, soy sauce, vinegar, salt and diced onions. Though not as good as the one Craig marinated for the braai, it looked pretty and taste nice and spicy. Eric put together another potato salad. Short time, we having another little braai with the left over beers.

“But there were chicks yesterday” chimed Craig, chewing on a red piece of chicken and sat next to Barbera.
“Too much choice.” Eric said. “Owns couldn’t focus.”
“Well you couldn’t focus, you were all over the place. One moment you were with your Veronica chick, that tall thing, the next you were worrying that Tareez item” I said.
“But ek sê your ka-chick is tall! You look like a puppet next to that thing. And she is so clumsy. Her shoe kept flying off, every time she stepped out side”
“And her hands are so big.” I added. “When I handed her a glass, her fingers wrapped right round it”
“There are other things that disappear between her fingers” Eric added.

And indeed there were quite a few girls. Some pretty things among them. For one there was Michelle. Eric was harping on about Michelle all the day long and about how if he wasn’t so busy with Veronica and trying to talk to Tareez, he would have had her “one time.”

Michelle is Karl’s cousin, a colored from South African who spent her teens in Australia. Makes for an interesting accent that fits with her cute face and little body. Another of Karl’s cousins, Laverne, made a return appearance, though she was less lively this party round. The rumor is that she has a crush on Laurence, and so perhaps the ill advised caution that comes with a crush got the better of her.

There was the surprise appearance of Candice, the popular dame from two weeks before. How boys had queued up to talk to her two weeks ago. She had promised unequivocally not to show up this time around. That she had to catch up with her life. But somehow, perhaps after suitable cajoling on the phone from Laurence (one of his many talents) she showed up. Just like that! Curly hair, pink lips, long face and all smiles in the living room. I wasted no time and sat my self right next to her, having learnt the hard way a fortnight ago. She immediately swore to me that she would not drink or eat and would be leaving soon. Of course, she had said the same things at the last party too, but she seemed determined to hold to her convictions this time around. After much oblique charm from me, as well as outright begging, I convinced her to have a glass of wine and mingle with other girls, where they talked diets and other indolent things.

“You chi-Eric. Just when I was about to escort Candice to the bus stop nicely, you landed with your “don’t go home yet, stay at the party” vibes” I blasted Eric.
“Yaah, you can’t just let chicks go home, they must stay” said Eric.
“And then there was Therese, who I was talking to nicely on the couch. The moment I got up you landed and started your own vibes. Like you don’t have a chick”
“Well you had your chance with Candice.”
“No but, Zani set me up nicely with Therese. Everything was going smoothely until you showed up.”

And somehow, Eric is never far when I get talking to some pretty thing.

Never Again

Oh the party was too big. It was too much. I was overwhelmed on the night. Drunk girls, carpet burns, marijuana (Eric and Craig’s ex-neighbor showed up courtesy of Karl and proceed to roll joints on the floor right be the stairs) and sex in my room by multiple couples of which I was never a member. The neighbor, who we have no christened 3 Doors Down, gave me a long speech, pointed and gesticulating his points with his middle finger about how he would get in touch with ‘the unit’ and the police and have us thrown out if we made noise like we did three weeks ago. He made big points like “these houses are close together” and “people want to sleep at night and wake up in the morning.” Things I could never think of.

Ali poured half a bottle Jonnie Walker whisky into a mug of ice and downed it like a beer. He was upset about something. He told me what, but the truth is I didn’t hear a word. No one really understands what Ali says. He phoned us on that Sunday and we kept passing the phone around because we didn’t know what he was saying, which nearly brought Barbara to tears in laughter. He just speaks so fast with his hard Zambian colored accent. The seed that must have planted his marriage proposal to Sara, the only other white South African present. Linia showed up with her two timid friends, Timira and Jullie, who, though full up with smiles, only managed to talk among themselves, except for that brief encounter with Candice on the diet conversation.
Most people had left by 11pm, many of them to go to something else, like Ntheye and Odemi who proceeded to party at a club somewhere until day light. But the absolute highlight of the evening, which came at about midnight was Augustine…..

BANG!!

“What was that?” I yelled. I was in the kitchen. The bang was so hard the cutlery in the kitchen rattled. Everyone’s eyes lit up in alarm. I thought maybe 3 Doors Down had thrown a large boot at us. But the noise came from the living room. I dashed in, and so did everyone else. I mean everyone from all over the house. Couples stopped kissing, others woke up, Eric abandoned his girlfriend in bed and rushed downstairs. And there stood Augustine, behind the glass screen door, holding his nose with both hands. Right in front of his face was a huge oily smudge on the glass where he had smashed his face as he walked into the screen door. He was in pain and we all fell on the floor laughing. We laughed about it all through Sunday. And now, when I look at the smudge still on the screen door, I can’t help but chuckle to my self.