By Frederick B. Philander
Episode 12
Pastor Huddleston spots a black man, dressed colourfully in a cream suit, a red cloak and a black-feathered hat, determinedly waltzing down the passage.
“Well, well, well. What have we got here, a feathered peacock that has escaped from the national bird sanctuary?
“Fuck you, limy. Stand aside and let me through,” Ralphy demands.
“What is your business in here?”
“I need to speak with my friends. I know they are inside,” Ralphy says.
“If you say so,” Peter replies, opening the door gesturing the man in.
“Ralphy,” a surprised Zenzile exclaims at recognising the new comer.
“My African brothers,” Ralphy says hugging them both.
“How did you find us?” an equally surprised Zolile inquires.
Taking a seat on a sofa: “I went to the courthouse, but you guys were already gone. A court messenger gave me this address. How are you guys doing in this strange city?” Ralphy asks lighting a cigarette.
“As you can see, shit,” Zenzile airs his frustrations about the obvious abortive audition session in the room.
“What news have you got on the woman?” the older brother wants to know.
“Nothing, yet. I am still working on It …” the African-Londoner says.
Outside in the passageway the hotel clerk comes running up the stairs holding a piece of paper.
“Pastor Huddleston, this fax just arrived from Africa. It’s for you,” the clerk says handing it over to him.
“Thank you, young man,” the Pastor says quickly scanning the information. With a shocked expression on his face he scampers into the room.
“As I was saying, just give me two days …” Ralphy is in the process of assuring the two brothers.
“You better make that one day,” Peter says referring to the paper in his hand.
“What do you mean, Peter?” Zolile asks.
“This message just came through from Pastor Singleton in Africa …” he says, sitting down on the bed.
“Well, what does it say?” Zenzile demands to know.
“That I must inform you boys that the spirit has struck again. This time the royal male hut has been the target, it says in here,” Peter replies.
“Oh, no. Not that. All my earthly belongings were in that hut,” a disappointed Zenzile calls out.
“That evil spirit is reminding us he means business, real business. We better find that woman fast, Ralphy,” Zolile basically begs his British friend.
Ralphy anxiously rises from the sofa.
“In that case I better go. I’ll keep you informed,” Ralphy says swiftly exiting from the room.
“It seems that we have reached a dead end,” Zenzile says thoughtfully.
“Not necessarily. As a last resort you could try the London zoo. Many tourists often go there. She might be there,” Peter advises, pouring himself a drink.
“What do you think, brother? If my memory serves me right, we only have four more days to find her,” an anxious Zenzile says
“I think we should take Peter’s advice. We’ll go to the London zoo in the morning and do things the African way,” a determined Zolile announces.
“But what about the other women that might come for auditions?” Zenzile inquires.
“Brother, start thinking with your head. This has been a stupid exercise from the beginning,” Zolile repudiates his younger brother.
*
It’s early morning. Zolile and Zenzile prepare themselves in front of a mirror.
They get rid of their Western attire leaving them bud naked in the room.
They totally transform their appearances into real African warriors: on goes the springbok skin covers, red goat blood smeared on their faces, in go the hunting knives around their waists, bows and arrows are tucked around their shoulders and from a cupboard a lion hunting-net is drawn. An African war cry completes the ritual.
Barefooted, they leave the bedroom, down the passage and into the foyer. They attract surprised attention from the hotel clerk and other curious guests on their way out the door.
Outside on the street they hail a passing taxi. With screeching tyres the vehicle leaves the curb and drives away in the early morning London traffic. Inside the cab Zolile instructs the white driver.
“The zoo, please.”
“Sure, china,” the taxi driver says checking them in the rear mirror and says to himself. ‘How come I am not surprised? These Africans are weird ones’.” The taxi picks up speed.
Minutes later the taxi stops in a street outside the zoo entrance. Zolile pays the driver with money from a plastic bag around his waist. They pass an old white beggar sitting at the gate and hastily enter. In the process the plastic bag drops undetected from his waste. The beggar sees this and picks up the bag, which he opens.
With joy and excitement the beggar jumps around.
“I’m rich.’ I’m rich,” the bearded hobo says holding up the bag. A bobby curiously steps up to the man. “I’m not so rich. It’s only a piece of bread in here,” the beggar lies to the law enforcement officer.
“Take your bread and remove yourself from here. This is a public place,” the bobby says threateningly.
“I am on my way, right away, officer,” the man says grabbing his other belongings and happily rushes off from the main zoo entrance.
Inside the zoo premises the two brothers hastily explore the scene, walking past animal cages, many day visitors with some feeding animals, among trees deeper into the animal place of safety right up to a bird sanctuary. Bending down and carelessly exposing her buttocks from under a short mini-dress, a lonely female figure feeds the birds through the mesh in their cage.
Zenzile stops in his tracks and draws his brother’s attention.
“That must be the woman.”
“How do you know?” the older brother inquires.
“Look, she is wearing a blue panty,” he says pointing to her buttocks.
“…but not a Victorian dress, was the official description,” Zolile corrects his brother.
“Maybe it is because she is working, feeding the birds?” Zenzile says with growing determination.
“If you say so, brother. Let’s go after her,” Zolile suggests.
The two brothers go into action, stalking the blonde bombshell who is unaware of the imminent danger as she walks away towards some trees…
To be continued next week.