32. Murder Weapon

There have been occasions when I have been faced with serious moral predicaments. Much like the situations with the police, these situations are not always black and white, and therefore it is not always easy to know the “right” thing to do.
One of these situations, in particular, involved a family that lived on the streets: a single mother, whose husband is in jail for rape, raising her children on the streets. She has several kids, some in jail and some in other institutions, but at that time she was living on the street with her two daughters (ages sixteen and twelve), her ten year old son, her twenty-one year old son Mondray (a gangster that was constantly in and out of jail), and his three year old son (her grandchild).
I had become extremely close with the family and was working to try and get them away from the streets.
The community that they come from is one of the more dangerous areas of Cape Town and is absolutely infested with gangsterism, so the mother felt like life on the streets was better for her children. As much as I wanted to believe her, and agreed with her to some degree, I could see that the real reason she was in town with her kids was to make money. She made way more money sending her kids to the traffic lights to beg for money than she ever could in any other job.
Anyway, Mondray had just recently gotten out of jail for robbing someone or something of that nature. One late night when I was sitting talking to them, Mondray had just smoked mandrax so he was dik gerook (Afrikaans slang for “high”, but the exact translation means “thick smoked”).
He began to proudly tell me about the crimes that he had committed and then he went on to tell me that he had a gun with him. He had never before been violent or rude towards me, but in the state he was in he thought he might have a little fun and try and scare me by telling me he was going to get it out.
To his disappointment, before he got a chance to get his gun out and show it off, he saw that I wasn’t scared or impressed.
I responded by telling him that guys who have to carry guns around are not true men at all, but cowards.
He said that we would see who was scared if he got it out and pointed it at me and I told him that I have already had a gun pointed at my head and it is really no big deal.
He laughed and abandoned his idea, seeing that he was going nowhere with it, and then we sat and talked for a little while longer.
I was glad he didn’t get it out because I didn’t want him playing with a gun in the state he was in. I really talked down on gangsters and that kind of life style and he seemed to be pretty interested and, even in his state, seemed to be really thinking about the things we were discussing.
A couple of days later, I saw Mondray and he told me that he had actually broken parole and wanted to go and make it right. He asked me to give him a ride to Pollsmoor, the jail he had recently come out of.
I thought it was pretty honorable of him, but until he got in my car I didn’t realize the fullness of his decision.
He told his family goodbye and that he would see them later, but on the way to Pollsmoor he told me to look after his family, especially his three year old son, because he was going to have to serve three months in jail for breaking parole.
His family and I thought he was just going to talk to the parole officer and then everything would be okay.
I was stunned and amazed.
I told him that I really respected his decision and that though it may not be easy, it was definitely the right thing to do. I dropped him off that day and then didn’t see him until three months later.
That afternoon, I went back to his mom to inform her about his decision.
When I told her, she seemed to have a lot on her mind. The next day when I stopped by to say hi, she called me over to the side.
She said, “Ryan, Mondray has brought trouble to us and I don’t know what to do and I really need your help.”
I told her that whatever it was I would do whatever I could. She then told me that his gun was in a bag, and it was hidden away with all of their blankets and things that were stashed away in a drain. She was afraid that the police would come and search through their stuff, as they often do, and find the gun and arrest her.
She was especially worried because she knew that Mondray had robbed people with the gun, and she suspected that he, or someone else, might have also killed people with it. If she was caught with it, she could get in even bigger trouble for having a murder weapon.
My fear was more that one of the little ones would get their hands on it.
I kept envisioning them playing with it and then shooting themselves or someone else by accident. She asked me if I could take it and keep it at my house until she was able to “make a plan”.
I thought about all the different options and ramifications, both good and bad, of me taking or not taking the gun. I especially thought about the trouble I could get into for having a murder weapon! But I decided that I was less at risk than the family as a whole so I told her I would take it.
It was actually very humorous!
I felt like I was part of some illegal, under-the-counter deal or something. I told her I had to walk and get my car and then come back to pick it up and she should wait for me on the corner with the bag.
When I pulled up, she gave me the bag and I went straight home.

Without opening it I put the bag in my closet and hid it under some stuff. I didn’t see the gun itself because it was wrapped in a towel inside the bag.
I was interested, but not interested enough to get my fingerprints all over it. I decided that I would not tell anyone about the gun because the more people knew, the bigger the chance I stood of getting into trouble.
Almost a month went by and the mother came to me and said that she had “made a plan” and I should bring the gun to her. She told me that she had found someone in the area that they are from who would buy it.
I went home and got the gun and dropped it back off with her.
I joked with her because she said that she was going to get R1,000 for it and I really didn’t believe that she would be able to get that much.
The next day when I saw her, I said, “So, did you get a thousand Rand for the gun?” and she said, “OH! I don’t even want to talk about it!!!!”
It took me a while to get out the story but when I finally did, it was hilarious!
She left the gun in the bag, as I had, and didn’t open it until she got to the gun dealer. When he opened it and pulled the gun out he asked her if she was playing a joke on him.
She immediately looked up and saw that this murder weapon, this thing that had caused so much stress and worry, was merely a plastic cap gun. Needless to say, she was extremely embarrassed and apologized and left immediately.
When she told me that, I could not help but laugh!!
She didn’t find my laughter very funny at first, but when I kept saying, “It was a plastic gun?! ONE THOUSAND Rand for a plastic gun?!” with tears flowing out of my eyes, she couldn’t help but join me.
When Mondray came out of jail his mom told him what had happened.
The next time I saw him, I couldn’t help but laugh and make fun of the whole situation. Mondray just shyly grinned and laughed with me.