Clemence
Clemence pulled his jersey tightly around him and walked briskly down the street, heading for home. There was a cold bite in the air tonight. He couldn’t figure out what the weather wanted, to be warm or to be cold. Some days were sweltering hot and other times they were not, then there were the nights that seemed bent on being freezing.
He took a deep breath and breathed out a cloud of cold. The weather was just another thing that was frustrating him. Work hadn’t been too bad today, just long and boring. But the old woman hadn’t come today. For some reason that had upset him.
He hadn’t realised he was waiting for her to come until he found himself watching all the people who entered the shop carefully, looking for her. He had been disappointed when lunch time had passed and she hadn’t arrived.
He didn’t know why he wanted to see her, just that he did. Okay, maybe he did know why he wanted to see her.
He wanted to talk to her about what had happened to him last week. He felt like she would understand or at least have answers for him. Heaven knew, no one else did. Not that he had bothered to ask. Sure, he could have brought it up with Eddie who had been there during the incident.
Eddie believed in God and most likely angels and would probably have some explanation for what had happened. But Clemence was hesitant to bring it up with him. He had been avoiding speaking at length with Eddie.
After his first day on the job after the accident, Eddie had asked him if he was alright and was happy when he saw that Clemence was indeed still alive and breathing. He seemed to have forgotten that Clemence had mentioned being saved by a non-existent person. Clemence hadn’t made an effort to remind him. He was scared that if he did, Eddie might say that he was crazy. He sure thought he was.
He sighed, that old lady really had made a mess of his life. All this craziness had only started after he had met her.
Clemence heard a loud clatter and paused. He looked back, peering into the darkness. He was near the flower sellers’ shelter and the mini- clothes flea market. Maybe something tables or hangers had fallen off. Everything looked in order, though. He shrugged and turned away. He didn’t have time to investigate, he needed to get home.
He had only walked a few more paces when he heard a scuffle and then someone grabbed him and pressed their hand over his mouth.
“Ndipe mari nephone. Otherwise ndokuuraya.”
Clemence froze. He could hear his heard thudding a wild and frantic rhythm in his chest. He struggled against the arms holding him and felt something sharp press into his side. He gasped in shock and fear. Was that a knife?
“Do not move!” The thug said harshly into Clemence’s ear. Clemence stayed as still as he possibly could.
“Now, ndipe mari yako.” Clemence would have told him that he had no money if not for the hand around his throat. “I said ndipe mari yako!”
Clemence could see that there was no way out of this. This thief was clearly desperate and unstable. He lifted his arm and jabbed his elbow into the man’s gut. He leaped forward intending to run as fast as he could. But he was yanked back by the hood of his jersey. He landed heavily on his back and felt all the wind go out of him.
The thief kicked him in the side and Clemence grunted and winced in pain. He rolled aside, trying to get away from the man and got to his knees. But before he could get his feet underneath him, he felt his head pulled back and cold, metal pressed against his throat.
“Ndakuudza!” The man yelled crazily.
A cold wave washed over Clemence. There was no way out of this, whatever movement he made would result in his throat getting slit.
He could feel a heavy darkness surrounding him, pressing over his body and heart. It was death, coming for him. So much for God watching over him. He had been saved from a speeding truck, only to be killed by some crazed and desperate thief. If not for the dire situation, he might have laughed.
“Iwe! Hey, you!” He heard a shout that barely registered with his mind. The knife jerked as the thief was startled, he felt a sharp pain as it nicked his skin.
“You! Get away from him.” The voice came again.
Clemence felt himself shoved forward. He fell forward and just managed to catch himself with his hands. He pushed up from the ground, the dirt and gravel digging into his palms, and stood up. He turned around and saw two dark shapes grappling.
A flash of silver in the hand of one revealed to him which of them was his attacker. The other figure wore a red shirt from what Clemence could see in the dark. The figure in the red shirt had the upper hand. He twisted around and yanked the knife out of the other man’s hand. The attacker realising that his weapon was gone and his mission had failed, turned tail and fled.
The man in the red shirt dusted off his trousers and made his way to Clemence.
“Shamwari, are you alright?” He asked.
“Yah, yah I’m fine.” Clemence said. He touched a finger to his throat and it came away wet. Blood. But he was sure he hadn’t been injured badly.
The man stepped closer and looked over Clemence.
With the man in closer proximity Clemence could tell he was a big man, with thick, muscled arms. He was bald and had light brown skin.
“Wakwara,” he said, noticing the cut on Clemence’s neck.
He took out a piece of cloth from his pocket and gave it to Clemence to press against the cut.
“What happened?” he asked.
Clemence shook his head, “I don’t know. I was walking and this man just came and attacked me. He wanted money.”
The man frowned and shook his head, “Tsk. Terrible.” He glanced at Clemence’s neck. ”He wanted to kill you. Lucky for you that I was walking this way, otherwise you would be dead.”
He looked around the street. “I don’t usually come this side of Chisipite. I live on the other end.” He looked back at Clemence again. “But for some reason I felt I should walk this way today.”
“Thank you,” Clemence said. If that man had not come this way, he would be dead.
“Shuwa,” the man replied. “Do you live close by?”
“Yeah,” Clemence replied. “Not far from here.”
“Good,” the man replied. ““I’ll walk with you a little bit now that I am going this way.”
The man fell into step with Clemence and they made their way down the street. Clemence spoke up when they got to the turn that led to his father’s house.
“Yah. Ndasvika.” The man looked around and said “Okay. You should be fine now. I don’t think there are any other people waiting to kill you.” He chuckled wryly.
Clemence nodded. “Thanks,” he said again.
“Don’t thank me,” the man replied. Thank God. He is the one who wanted me to come this way.” He nodded and looked closely at Clemence. “He must be watching over you.”
Clemence had no words, he only nodded in response.
“Okay, bye.” The man said, waving and turning.
“Bye.” Clemence called.
He watched the man until he had disappeared down the street. When he could see him no longer he took a deep breath and faced the street to his house. He looked into the darkness, punctuated by the outside lights of the houses that lined the street.
Twice now death had come for him. Twice now his life had been saved. He clenched his hands into fists, it was becoming harder and harder to deny that it was God. What else could it be? Who else could it be? Clemence shook his head.
He needed to see that old lady again; she would have answers for him.
As he stepped forward and headed for home, he hoped fervently, the closest he would ever come to praying, that she would come to his till tomorrow.
