This Thing Called the Future by J.L. Powers Read Free Book Online Page A

neck, where he held me with the crook of his arm.
    Now she gets up in my face, fierce and unrelenting. “And next time, he could rape you or kill you. Is that what you want?”
    There’s nothing to say. I can’t tell Mama that he had animal strength. So I just look at the dirt, to avoid Mama’s accusing gaze.
    â€œYou must learn to notice what’s going on around you and defend yourself.”
    I open my mouth to protest, then remember how I wasn’t noticing anything when he attacked me. I was just too happy about Little Man.

    â€œVery soon, you are going to need more courage than ever before,” she says. She reaches out again and wipes more tears from my face, her touch still harsh but this time, there’s a gentleness behind it. “Don’t ever let yourself be a victim, Khosi.”
    I wonder why Mama thinks I’m going to need courage? I’m too afraid to ask. And why is she blaming me for getting attacked? This is a new side to Mama.
    The man is sitting on his bucket in front of the tuck shop, his eyes closed, his head nodding as he sleeps.
    â€œIs that the man?” she asks me.
    â€œYes, Mama.” I hope she doesn’t make too much trouble for me. If she humiliates him publicly, what will he do to me the next time he catches me alone?
    Mama snorts. “Him?” she asks again. “That tiny man?”
    I nod, ashamed. He has surprising strength, I want to say, like a crocodile’s.
    Mama doesn’t hesitate. She strides over, slapping him so hard, he falls off the bucket and lands in the dirt.
    When he looks up, startled, Mama swoops down, grips his shirt, and shoves him back down.
    Our eyes meet. His, coal-black and hard. You’ll regret this, they say.
    â€œShame on you,” Mama screams.
    His eyes dart around, looking for something. A weapon, perhaps? An escape? He grips the earth, his fingertips curling around a clod of dirt.
    Mama’s firm hand presses him down. “Are you such a big man, to go around preying on young girls? Do you think you’re so tough?” she yells.
    The old man flicks his gaze toward me. “Is she your little protector?” he asks, contemptuous, like I’m Zi’s age and need an adult to fight my battles.
    I guess he’s right. He knows he can’t say a thing to Mama, so he goes for the weak one here—me.
    â€œKhosi doesn’t need my protection,” Mama says. She lets go of him and wipes her hand on her skirt, as if his shirt made her hand dirty. “People will be watching you now. You won’t bother her again.”

    Maybe Mama’s certain of that, but when she turns her head to look at the small crowd that’s gathered to watch this crazy woman beat up a man, he winks at me.
    I suck in my breath. I knew it. I knew this could create trouble for me. Mama’s gone all week long, and that’s when I will have to face this man.
    â€œIf I hear you’ve done anything to her—” Mama shakes her finger at him and gestures at me to leave. “Believe me, you will wish you hadn’t.”
    I wish that made me feel safe. But it doesn’t.
    As we walk away, I sneak a look backwards. The drunk man is just sitting on his bucket, laughing silently. At me.
    If I were as strong and brave as my mother, he’d leave me alone. But I’m not. Even as Mama says, “He’ll leave you alone now, Khosi,” fear splits my heart right down the middle.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    THE LIGHTNING BIRD
    I tell Gogo all about the sangoma visit as we take Mama’s freshly washed clothes off the line in the backyard. The air is growing hot and heavy with rain that wants to fall but doesn’t.
    â€œKhosi, why does it rain?” Zi asks, interrupting my conversation with Gogo. She’s tracing the cracks in the cement with her fingers.
    â€œYou see, the sky is a man,” I say. “And the earth is a woman. When it rains, he’s sending his seed to