No Turning Back by Beverley Naidoo Read Free Book Online Page A

mother had decided to send him to her brother in Jo’burg for safety. But his uncle’s wife didn’t want him and so he had run away to get away from her beatings.
    The two boys kept on walking all the while Jabu spoke. Sipho listened closely. He admired Jabu for being able to talk so calmly about thesethings. If only he could tell Jabu his story too…why he had run away. But it still upset him too much. Seeing the water sprinkling the grass and the brief thought of Ma, with her big stomach, carrying a heavy container of water all the way from the tap had already disturbed him. He didn’t want to cry, like he had done the other night.
    By the time they reached Rosebank they were hot and thirsty Compared with Hillbrow, the roads seemed wider and less crowded and the buildings, although big, not as high. A couple of women sat on a pavement selling bead necklaces and bracelets. Their goods were spread out on blankets in front of them, and one of them was arguing with a customer.
    “No, madam, I can’t sell it more cheap! To make that necklace, I must work many hours.”
    The seller shook her head. She was frowning underneath the black scarf tied around her head.
    “I’ll give you ten rand for it. I’ve seen the same necklace for ten rand in Durban.”
    The lady who was trying to bring down the price dangled the necklace of light and dark blue beads in her hand. The necklace and bracelet she was wearing herself glinted in the sun. Were they gold, thought Sipho? The same thought must have struck Jabu.
    “That lady is rich but she doesn’t like tospend her money!” he whispered.
    “Ja, I think she hides it under her mattress,” giggled Sipho.
    The seller kept shaking her head, saying something under her breath. It was in Zulu but not clear enough for Sipho and Jabu to hear.
    “Well, how about twelve rand, then?” said the lady.
    “All right, the madam can have it for twelve rand.”
    The lady’s red lips stretched into a smile as she lifted a ten-rand note and a couple of coins from her handbag.
    “Thank you,” she said.
    But the seller wasn’t smiling as she took the note and folded it carefully into a small, worn purse.
    Sipho followed as Jabu turned into a paved street where there were no cars but people were walking by, while others were browsing in shop windows or sitting at an open-air cafe. Behind the tables with umbrellas, tall jets of water were splashing from a fountain, which made Sipho’s mouth feel even drier. Two guards in maroon uniforms, carrying mobile telephones, stood in the sun chatting to each other. They seemed too busy in conversation to notice the boys passing them.
    Inside, the shopping center glittered withlights even though it was the middle of the day. With great glass windows in the shops, as well as panels of polished brass and steel, the place seemed full of mirrors and reflections. Sipho remembered his surprise at some of the prices in the Hillbrow shops. But here the prices were even higher. Over R2,000 for a man’s jacket and nearly R200 just for a tie! In one window, a carpet with pretty patterns had a label saying R8,695! Traveling up a moving staircase, Sipho looked down at people walking below and wondered how some people could get so much money. It was noticeable that, unlike in Hillbrow, most of the shoppers here were white. But when a smartly dressed black couple passed them, he watched curiously as they entered a shop selling men’s clothes.
    Following the sound of music, they found a white woman playing the piano at a cafe. Tables and chairs were spread “outdoors,” although they were covered by the enormous roof of the shopping center. For a few moments they stood watching the pianist’s fingers scuttling over the keys and listening to the tinkling melody. Sipho pursed his lips at the smell of coffee and freshly baked buns.
    “We bafana! You boys! Clear off!”
    A waiter was coming toward them, making sweeping movements with his arm.
    “Sorry, baba, sorry. We