‘He won’t come,’ Butcher had said.

‘He will.’

‘Anyway I don’t care.’

‘Same here.’

Butcher was throwing his stones at the lamp-post. About every fourth found its mark with a dull, metallic note.

‘If he doesn’t come I’ll just go’…clung! as a stone hit the lamp-post.

‘I got places and people. I can go right now.’ Clung clung. Die Aap had joined him in throwing stones at the lamp-post. ‘And you?’ Butcher asked.

‘Same here,’ said Die Aap. Clung.

Butcher dusted off his hands. He had had enough of throwing stones. He thinks he’s good, but I can go. Clung. Die Aap was still throwing. ‘Come let’s go,’ said Butcher.

‘Okay.’ Die Aap paused while he threw another stone. Clung.

Butcher had his cap so low over his eyes that when Die Aap nudged him he had to tilt back his head to see Tsotsi who had turned into the street a little way up and was walking towards them. They were both glad because one way or another the matter would be settled.

Tsotsi went into the room without saying a word to them. He ignored them quite simply because he himself did not know what he wanted. Butcher and Die Aap were in a strange way remote from his new realities. It was difficult to think about them, to decide purposefully if he wanted them or not. So what was he going to do? There they stood waiting for a word or a look from him. He was going to do nothing. Matters would take their own course. Something was sure to happen, and that would start something else and one way or another the problem would resolve itself.

So Butcher and Die Aap stood outside, looking at each other, and Tsotsi sat down on his bed in his room.

What happened was this. A young and comely woman, carrying her baby in a blanket on her back, walked past in the street. The baby cried and Butcher looked up and saw her. ‘Feed him sister,’ he called. ‘Come feed him here beside me.’

The woman seeing him, and the lights in his eyes, spat into the dust and went her way.

Tsotsi appeared at the door. He had heard Butcher’s words and the baby. Encouraged by Tsotsi’s interest, Butcher stepped away from the wall and called out to the back of the woman, ‘If you got no milk, sister, let him suck me!’ He turned to Tsotsi and smiled and said, ‘Nyama’, which means meat.

Tsotsi was looking at this woman. There was a thought there. A big thought.

Butcher pulled his hat even lower over his eyes and walked up to Tsotsi. ‘Shall we find one and play?’ he asked.

Tsotsi shook his head. ‘Later’, he said, and he was referring to the big thought Butcher’s words had put into his mind. But by then the ice was broken. He had made contact with them again, so he said ‘Come’, and turned back inside. Butcher and Die Aap followed him happily.