Sorry Missus - ChevsLife
Kort swart hare wat net bo haar skouers hang. Donker bruin oë, geboorte merk bo haar linker wenkbrou. Daar sit sy, alleen in haar swem kostuum, ‘n ou handoek om haar lyf – die arme kind, nog nie eers ses jaar oud nie. Hier, voor my kantoor, half aan die slaap sit sy en wag.
“Marsha, please tell the boys I will be late tonight. I’m so sorry honey, but an urgent case requires my attention” – my Kaptein se moedelose stem. Drie aande in ‘n ry moes hy sy vrou bel – bende geweld en dooie lywe. Our everyday norm, like they say.
“Naai man, wat dala jy nou? Skebenga jy, ek sien jou nommer!”
Die growe gril van sy stem, soos vokken gravel skraap dit deur my ore. Die nommer, sy tyd is op – hy gaan mang. Daai liggaam het gepraat – sy bloed is op haar lyf, vanaand mang die vark!
“Jakes, what the fuck are you doing staring at the walls? This case speaks for itself, go file the paperwork and waar is die kind se fokken ma? Bel weer daai nommer – the last thing I want to do is call social services.”
Kaptein is kort gespan vannaand. Die meisie, die vyfde kind wat vandag by die polisie stasie gedrop is. ‘n Man het haar gekry huil buite die winkel. Nog ‘n kind wat nie haar ma op die strand kon kry nie; die skare net te groot.
Heerlikheid, asof ons nie beter dinge het om te doen nie. Nou moet ons nog babysitting duty ook doen!
“Sorry missus, wat?”
“Jy, wat missus jy my – lyk ek soos ‘n ou antie? Ek soek my blêrie kind, sy’t alweer net weg gedwaal.”
Die vrou, ek skat haar omtrent 24 jaar oud. Hare sop nat en vol sand, definitely rough around the edges, but sober. Dankie vader, uiteidelik kan ek my werk doen en die nommer uitsort!
“Kan U vir my ‘n besrkywing gee van U kind asseblief?”
“Here man, wat mors jy my tyd – het julle enige kinder shier? Haar naam is Sara, sy is 6 jaar oud, het ‘n merk bo haar linker wenkbrou en kort swart hare. Is sy hier of moet ek die polisie bel vir jou?”
Wag, miskien is die vrou gedrug. Sy wil die polisie bel vir my, maar ek is dan die polisie? Ek kon net nie help nie, my lag borrel uit my soos ‘n bier of a warme sommers dag.
“Jy, wat lag jy! Is my kind hier of wat?” – vererglik probeer sy my nogal klap!
“Sorry missus – wag net hier”
“Kaptein, die kind se ma is hier – do you want to have a word with her or can I reunite them and call it a day?”
“Sorry Missus” – a tandem blog, 1 title, 3 intepretations. Mine, a 15 minute fictituous depiction of life in the shoes of a Constable who was meant to sign-off of duty three hours ago.
Visit Celeste, No Ordinary Woman, and Shelley, The Deal Is, to view their interpretation of “Sorry Missus”.
| Tags: creative writing, fiction, short story, Tandem Blog
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4 thoughts on “Sorry Missus”
Shelley on	 February 27, 2018
Sounds like a hectic day but, sadly, a reality for many. Great post Chev! You’re definitely one of my favourite storytellers.
ChevsLife on	 February 27, 2018
You are so generous with your compliment! Thank you for encouraging my creativity.
Celeste on	 February 27, 2018
Chev you blow my mind. Like where do these stories come from? I never know what to expect from you. You keep me entertained from start to finish.
ChevsLife on	 February 28, 2018
Thanks Celeste, observations of the day-to-day that is often on the periphery of an untapped awareness.