Hi y'all,
The last time I wrote about the Beast was a rather eventful trip to Durban through the then Orange Free State.
Now when we got to Durban, safely I might add, I found out where I was staying. Because coloured areas were few in Durban under Group Areas Act and I had to attend a formerly white educational institution, Natal Technikon, our company found lodging within short walking distance at a place called the Melbourne Road Flats. When I called upon the address given to me, I found a goodly elderly lady and an unknown fellow student from the Burghs (that would be Pietermaritzburg also known locally as Sleepy Hollow).
She was to be our landlady for the duration of our first study stay in Durban. We, my fellow student and I, found ourselves through no fault or design staying in a block of flats that had its own gang known then as "The Flat Cats" It had a leader called Dutchy and Dutchy had a relationship with our landlady's daughter.
So it came to be that we bumped into the local gang leader far more often than necessary or healthy. I had the dubious fortune to own the Beast. A sought-after source of motive power at any time but especially for 'gentlemen' who followed a code representing alternative money-making methods. Some of the older members of the Flat Cats were reasonably respectable with standard jobs and families but many were "alternatives". The Beast and I were in high demand usually for some less than kosher activities. Due to my accommodation situation I had little chance of not being available at the 'required' times.
I remember bumping into a grumpy Dutchy once. He 'asked' if I would give him a lift to Newlands East. Rumour in Durban had it that, at that time (early eighties) Newlands East was the 'Badlands'. I told him I did not know where Newlands East was (true at the time) but he indicated that he will be happy to provide directions. This written piece does not quite reflect the tone of the 'discussion' between Dutchy and I but children also read this blog .. I presume...
To cut a long story short, we ended up outside a block of flats in the East and Dutchy liberated himself from the Beast with a few expletives, took out pistol (9mm by the looks of it) from his belt and rushed off into the block swearing he was going the kill the so-an-so! Believe what you will but I had no idea who the so-and-so was, neither had I any idea before then what the purpose of our visit was, nor did I notice the presence of the 9mm before then. Let's just say that Dutchy can become brusquely uncommunicative at certain times and our ride from Melbourne Road flats was such a time. I however did not have much time to reflect on his miserable mood while in the East.
A few rather unpleasant thoughts had inserted themselves into my suddenly elevated consciousness; to wit: Was I going to become an accessory to murder? Even if the cops did not get me, people in the Newlands East flats would easily recognise the Beast (colour, Stellenbosch number plate, etc.) which would make me a target without even knowing my future hunters wherever I go in Durban in the Beast.
So the questions that kept pouring through my stressed brain at the time were simply binomial: Do I stay or do I go? Both options had less than optimal consequences for my future well-being. While the internal debate on the least damaging option was still raging, Dutchy emerged from the block of flats looking even more visibly upset than when he had entered. I took this to mean that he did not find his target and that I was free from a possible accessory charge. My relief was palpable. Now Durban has a humiture (humidity combined with temperature) that matches or exceeds that of Miami, Florida in summer but at that point I stopped sweating with relief. The fact is that my slow thinking processes, constricted as they were by fear, saved me from rashly rushing off!!
I therefore seemed a cool ally to the gang leader although I was anything but (the but at the end being a uniquely yet not exclusively Durban township way of putting certain things).
The Beast must have been just as relieved as I because it seemed to fly back to Melbourne Rd even without further directions from Dutchy. I entreated myself with my good fortune and thinking up ways of avoiding landing in the same situation again with Dutchy.
I was blessed by our Heavenly father throughout this episode and I never had to repeat a similar undertaking.
The Beast undertook many other far less stressful and more enjoyable activities in Durban. And we enjoyed each other's company.
Unfortunately, the Beast came to an unfortunate and unexpected end at the hands of another person but more about that at another time.
The other unfortunate thing is that I have lost all my Beast pics through moving house multiple times.
Be blessed y'all - I am.
The last time I wrote about the Beast was a rather eventful trip to Durban through the then Orange Free State.
Now when we got to Durban, safely I might add, I found out where I was staying. Because coloured areas were few in Durban under Group Areas Act and I had to attend a formerly white educational institution, Natal Technikon, our company found lodging within short walking distance at a place called the Melbourne Road Flats. When I called upon the address given to me, I found a goodly elderly lady and an unknown fellow student from the Burghs (that would be Pietermaritzburg also known locally as Sleepy Hollow).
She was to be our landlady for the duration of our first study stay in Durban. We, my fellow student and I, found ourselves through no fault or design staying in a block of flats that had its own gang known then as "The Flat Cats" It had a leader called Dutchy and Dutchy had a relationship with our landlady's daughter.
So it came to be that we bumped into the local gang leader far more often than necessary or healthy. I had the dubious fortune to own the Beast. A sought-after source of motive power at any time but especially for 'gentlemen' who followed a code representing alternative money-making methods. Some of the older members of the Flat Cats were reasonably respectable with standard jobs and families but many were "alternatives". The Beast and I were in high demand usually for some less than kosher activities. Due to my accommodation situation I had little chance of not being available at the 'required' times.
I remember bumping into a grumpy Dutchy once. He 'asked' if I would give him a lift to Newlands East. Rumour in Durban had it that, at that time (early eighties) Newlands East was the 'Badlands'. I told him I did not know where Newlands East was (true at the time) but he indicated that he will be happy to provide directions. This written piece does not quite reflect the tone of the 'discussion' between Dutchy and I but children also read this blog .. I presume...
To cut a long story short, we ended up outside a block of flats in the East and Dutchy liberated himself from the Beast with a few expletives, took out pistol (9mm by the looks of it) from his belt and rushed off into the block swearing he was going the kill the so-an-so! Believe what you will but I had no idea who the so-and-so was, neither had I any idea before then what the purpose of our visit was, nor did I notice the presence of the 9mm before then. Let's just say that Dutchy can become brusquely uncommunicative at certain times and our ride from Melbourne Road flats was such a time. I however did not have much time to reflect on his miserable mood while in the East.
A few rather unpleasant thoughts had inserted themselves into my suddenly elevated consciousness; to wit: Was I going to become an accessory to murder? Even if the cops did not get me, people in the Newlands East flats would easily recognise the Beast (colour, Stellenbosch number plate, etc.) which would make me a target without even knowing my future hunters wherever I go in Durban in the Beast.
So the questions that kept pouring through my stressed brain at the time were simply binomial: Do I stay or do I go? Both options had less than optimal consequences for my future well-being. While the internal debate on the least damaging option was still raging, Dutchy emerged from the block of flats looking even more visibly upset than when he had entered. I took this to mean that he did not find his target and that I was free from a possible accessory charge. My relief was palpable. Now Durban has a humiture (humidity combined with temperature) that matches or exceeds that of Miami, Florida in summer but at that point I stopped sweating with relief. The fact is that my slow thinking processes, constricted as they were by fear, saved me from rashly rushing off!!
I therefore seemed a cool ally to the gang leader although I was anything but (the but at the end being a uniquely yet not exclusively Durban township way of putting certain things).
The Beast must have been just as relieved as I because it seemed to fly back to Melbourne Rd even without further directions from Dutchy. I entreated myself with my good fortune and thinking up ways of avoiding landing in the same situation again with Dutchy.
I was blessed by our Heavenly father throughout this episode and I never had to repeat a similar undertaking.
The Beast undertook many other far less stressful and more enjoyable activities in Durban. And we enjoyed each other's company.
Unfortunately, the Beast came to an unfortunate and unexpected end at the hands of another person but more about that at another time.
The other unfortunate thing is that I have lost all my Beast pics through moving house multiple times.
Be blessed y'all - I am.
No comments:
Post a Comment