The Boy From Sweden

he Boy from Sweden

  by

  Craig Smith

  The Boy from Sweden

  By

  Craig Smith

  Copyright 2014

  Sunday 17th of March 7:00 am

  Gunter moved about in his seat. He was a little uncomfortable, but still felt excited. It was his first time out of his home country of Sweden, off to live with a host family in South Africa for a year. He put down the book he was reading and looked at the digital display in front of him. The plane icon was over the south of Africa. The estimated flying time to the Oliver Tambo airport in Johannesburg was only two hours and thirty minutes. Of what he had found while researching the place it was a big sprawling city which had some areas that were not entirely safe, but it was a modern city in many respects. Gunter couldn’t wait to get the chance to explore.

  Gunter put his head against the window to rest his eyes for a bit; he felt too excited to want to fall asleep. He didn’t want to miss a thing but the long flight, and the emotional goodbye with his family had drained a lot out of him, within in moments he fell asleep.

  After what only seemed like only five minutes he felt his arm being nudged softly.

  He groggily looked up. It was one of the air hostesses. She smiled a smile that she had most probably smiled a million times before.

  “Young man,” she said standing up again. “We have arrived, would you like to disembark?”

  “We have?” He stood up and remembered at the last second to duck so he wouldn’t bump his head on the overhead compartment. He looked around the plane that was now virtually empty. “Oh right, yes, I’ll do so.”

  Gathering his things he double-checked his seat and the area for any dropped items, and made his way out of the plane. Even though he had slept well he felt a little bothered and rushed. His host family would probably be wondering where he was and he hoped they wouldn’t be too upset with him. Once he was off the plane he made his way towards customs.

  Bewildered by being in a new country he had a worried look on his face, unfortunately the customs officer picked up on that and signaled for him to come over.

  “This way, sir,” said the man. He was slightly taller than Gunter but smaller in build. “Place your bag on the table.”

  “Why?” asked Gunter. He didn’t like being delayed like this.

  “Just a random check, nothing to worry about, sir.”

  Gunter reluctantly placed his big case on the steel table. The customs official went for the zip but it had a small combination lock on it.

  “Open it please.”

  Gunter did as he was told even though he felt that he shouldn’t, there was something about this man that made him feel uneasy.

  The man unzipped the bag and took out the contents and looked through them. It was as if he was shopping and going for things he liked. He roughly pushed Gunter’s clothes to one side of the bag.

  Gunter looked at his watch. The plane had arrived half an hour ago. His host family, the Johnsons were probably getting a little worried or annoyed by now.

  The man then picked up a box. It was a Sony PSP that Gunter had gotten for Christmas the previous year. He was going to use it when he wasn’t doing homework, getting to know his host family, exploring or sending emails back home. Gunter couldn’t help but see that the man liked what he saw.

  “Do you have a receipt for this?”

  “What do you mean?” asked Gunter with a frown.

  “This looks brand new. You will have to pay customs tax on it or it will be confiscated.” said the man placing the box to one side.

  “I don’t understand?” said Gunter. “It was a gift, why should I pay tax on it?”

  “It looks new to me, how do I know you’re not going to sell it and make an illegal profit?”

  Gunter might only be sixteen years old, but he knew that the man couldn’t do this. It wasn’t as if his whole bag was full of them.

  “I would never do that! It’s mine!”

  Gunter’s raised voice attracted the attention of a man who has been half asleep in a chair against the wall behind the custom’s official.

  “What’s going on here, Jannie?” said the man getting out of his chair.

  “Nothing, sir,” said Jannie his eyes shifting from side to side. “I was just wishing that the kind sir enjoy his time here.”

  “That’s good,” said the bigger and balding man. “Now put ALL of his stuff back in his suit case and let him be on his way.”

  Gunter felt like telling the bigger man what the other had done, but he felt that it probably wasn’t necessary. The senior official already seemed to know about the problem. Besides, he didn’t have time to spare. The shifty looking man placed everything back in the case, including the box, and gave the case back to Gunter.

  Gunter said nothing and calmly walked away. He just hoped it wasn’t a bad omen to the start of his stay in the country.

  Gunter finally made his way through the huge sliding doors and out into the waiting area. He spotted the Johnson family. They seemed to be waiting patiently for him. He breathed a sigh of relief. Granted he had only seen photos of them, but it was great to finally see some familiar faces.

  The Johnsons were a family of four: James the father, Mary the mother, Amy the seventeen year old daughter and Fred the twelve year old son. Fred was holding a huge white cardboard sign that read “Welcome to South Africa, Gunter!” Gunter smiled and went towards them.

  James was the first to greet him and gave him a big hand shake and a pat on the shoulder.

  “Welcome to Johannesburg, my boy,” said James. He was just over six foot tall, brownish hair with some gray and a bit of a bald spot. “How was the flight?”

  “It was great thanks,” said Gunter after a while. He was still getting used the accent and it took him a few moments to figure out what was being said. James was a few inches taller than Gunter, but his shoulders weren’t as wide.

  Mary hugged him. “Hi, Gunter,” she said with a huge smile. “I bet you can’t wait to rest and have a nice hot meal?”

  “Oh for sure!” replied Gunter. It was mid-afternoon and he could feel his stomach growling. He had missed breakfast that morning.

  Amy and Fred both said hi together and shook his hand. Amy was busy on her cellphone and didn’t seem to be paying much attention and Fred seemed a little shy.

  “Nice to meet you,” said Gunter. Gunter’s English was better than most Swedish. He had a good friend who was English and he took extra English classes in high school.

  “What you say we take this party on the road and go home?” asked James.

  “Totally okay with me,” said Gunter.

  “Totally okay?” asked Amy. Her hair was long and very dark, Gunter thought he would have found her attractive if he didn’t have to treat her like a sister.

  “Yes it’s like cool in Sweden.”

  “Oh, very nice,” said Amy as she returned to her cellphone and they made their way out of the airport. He found it a little rude that she wasn’t giving the situation her full attention, but he had done the same himself a few times to his own family, so he had no room to complain.

  Sunday 9:00am

  Siswe sat on a used paint tin outside his mom’s home. His mother was a maid and she was working inside the main house. His friend Jacobs was visiting him. Jacobs was Siswe’s brother’s best friend. His brother Thomas and Jacobs were members of the Three Swords Gang and even Siswe had the tattoo on the back of his neck like his brother and Jacobs.

  His brother had convinced him to get it when his mother was away for a week when he was only thirteen. Neither of them were popular with their mom when she came back home. His mom hated Jacobs, because he had helped put his br
other Thomas in prison. Siswe disliked him too, but he had made a promise to keep in contact with him so that he could tell Thomas what was happening on the streets when he went to visit him in prison. Jacobs was a wanted man and didn’t want to risk making a visit to the prison himself. Siswe had just learned that Jacobs had robbed a house and sold R5000 in stolen goods. Jacobs also showed off a very expensive gold watch on his arm. Siswe was tempted by the amount, but he shook his head, it was just too much of a risk. He could get in serious trouble with the police, and his mother would go into despair if he went to jail too. Besides he was doing pretty well at school and had a chance of getting a bursary to go to university, but on the other hand Jacobs was telling him about a very compelling offer. Maybe even a way to get his brother out of jail early.

  “Siswe,” said Jacobs, leaning forward in his chair with his hands together. “I know you’re not as street tough as your old bro, but if you help me I will get Tomboy out of jail.”

  Siswe shook his head. It was not the first time that Jacobs had tried to recruit him into