*warning - Adult content*

Now me, my business is my business, yours is yours, and everything’s cool.  

So, last night, we’re watching some stupid, time- filling, funny British quiz show. The program ends, and we’re trying to decide whether to watch one more, or go to bed, when I suddenly realise that the whole way through the program, there’s been screaming, shouting, heavy knocks, and various worrying sounds from across the road. Perhaps, I’m just used to it; perhaps I was so involved in the program, whatever. But now, that there’s no sound from us; there’s a hell of a lot of sound from next door.

Mine’s mine, you deal with your shit, so I’m not going to get involved. That’s the way things are, tough shit. So, we decide to watch another program, we won’t be able to sleep anyway, with all the crap right outside the window, so,  the theme tune starts, and we just carry on. It’s all wrapped up an hour later, so, we put the dogs out, Sarah has her sandwich, I take my meds, and the day ends.

We’re up early this morning. There’s a housewarming, a rugby match I’m looking forward to watching, and we’ve decided to take the dogs for a walk along the beach. The weather’s beautiful, a light breeze, the dogs are stupidly, happily bounding, and running around, and it’s a wonderful morning so far.

We get home. Zaheer’s pushing his bike up the hill, so when I open the gate, I say hello, and then I see Doug in the driveway of his house across the road. I haven’t seen him in a while anyway, and there’s all that shit last night, so I walk over and tune howzit.

He’s been in jail for the last little while, but he’s out now. Some stupid thing about some shit, which we both just shrug off. He apologises for all the noise last night and then immediately starts telling me what happened. It’s none of my business, but hey, it’s cool, whatever.

To fill you in. There’s a dealer / dodgy guy who’s in the front room, closest to the road, and unfortunately to our bedroom window. So, there’s always a lot of traffic, with some pretty interesting characters, whatever. By now, I know most of them, so it was nice to see that Skye was actually alive, someone had told me she was dead, having hung herself, so I suppose it must be another girl, probably Sam actually, who also hasn’t been around for a long time, either. 

Anyway. This guy went to our guy and pawned his passport for some crack. It’s been quite nice since the crack and tic groups split last month; it’s actually been a lot quieter with them moving one road over.

However, it wasn’t actually his passport, but that’s not important.  The fuck up came because our guy had to give the other guy’s dodgy passport to Denzel to help pay off a debt, the details of which, I’m not going to get into today. So, the other guy pulls in with his cash, and now wants his dodgy, pawned passport back. Alas, our guy obviously doesn’t have it, but he thinks he can just tell the guy to fuck off, so he does. But. The guy comes back with between eight and ten other guys to deal with the situation. 

Doug knows some of the guys this guy brought with him, and from the things he’s telling me about them, they don’t seem like a very nice bunch. Anyway. Our guy panics, starts trying to make a plan, these guys are getting pissed off, other idiots try to get involved, etc. etc., and the next thing, there’s this really bad scene happening. 

Our guy ends up with this massive slash through his head, which severs some serious vein artery thing, he has to be rushed to hospital, and in fact, that first hospital can’t actually deal with it, so he ends up having to be rushed to this specialist hospital for neuro surgery. I don’t know how he’s going to pay for it, but, hey, that’s not my business.

Now, Doug’s pissed because he’s left with all this shit. Most of the windows of the house have been smashed, he shows me how the inside rooms’ beds and cupboards’ etc. are all ripped and smashed, and worst of all, his front door has been ripped off and  badly damaged, as some guys had started to smash Kyle’s car with it. It’s a real shame because the door was really beautifully carved, a real antique.

So, he and I stand there, looking at all this shit around the house. Now. I’d help the guy clear up, I mean, he’s a nice guy, I dig him, others don’t, but I do. 

But we’ve got this housewarming to go to, and I’ve still got to shower, help Sarah prepare some food, and get dressed, so we say our goodbyes, and I head back over the road to our house.

You know, it’s a real pity. That door was really nice. In fact, I’d been planning to ask Doug if I could take it when he eventually sold the place. But now that’s fucked.

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

The author

Nick Miles is a Durban based writer, with a zany and distinctive writing style.

He lives with his partner Sarah and their two dogs, Nandi, Maus and Ginger cat.