500: An Anthology of Short Stories
Brutus and Barry

“Brutus!” called Sonja, the sixteen-year-old teenager’s mother. “Go to Pep quickly, my boy,” she added, knowing that Brutus could hear her in the backroom he shared with his nine-year-old brother, Barry.

Brutus, with Barry tagging along, made a speedy appearance in the kitchen where Sonja was chopping vegetables for the evening meal. They could only afford two meals a day; breakfast had been a meal of porridge and buttered brown bread. Brutus saw what they were having for supper: steamed carrots, potatoes, rice and sausages. The family hardly ever had meat, but last night Uncle Pedro had dropped off the sausages.

“What do you need me to do at Pep, mom?”

“Take those clothes I bought yesterday for your baby sister and return them for a bigger size. The way Olivia grows in unpredictable spurts is driving me crazy,” Sonja complained as she started on cutting up the potatoes.

“Will I need to pay a price difference?” Brutus asked, knowing that sometimes clothing prices were determined by size.

“No, I don’t think so.”

Brutus collected the clothes from Sonja’s bedroom then set off for the store, which was about a ten-minute walk from their house.

“We can buy Mommy’s gift today,” Brutus informed Barry. “I saw slippers at that thrift shop in the mall for R20.00.”

“I don’t have any money to add,” Barry said, downcast.

“Don’t worry, I’ve saved up enough. We can exchange the clothes first then buy the slippers.”

Brutus informed the security guard at the entrance to Pep Stores that he wanted to make an exchange. The security guard gave the teenager a dirty look before saying, “I hope the clothes aren’t dirty or worn. You people think you can return items in a condition as filthy as your homes!” she said nastily. Brutus bit his lip in shame and humiliation. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Go get what you want. Give me that bag; I’ll take it to the cashier,” the woman told the crestfallen boys.

A man who had just entered the store overheard what the security guard was saying to the two boys. Unbeknownst to them, the man followed the boys discreetly.

Brutus hurried to find the right sizes; he didn’t want to spend a single extra second in the store.

Arriving at the cash point, Brutus showed the cashier the clothes. After ringing up the items she announced, “There’s a R20 difference.”

Brutus’s heart stuttered; Barry’s eyes pooled with sudden tears. Reluctantly, Brutus took the R20 from his pocket to hand it over.

“Can I pay for that?” said a man standing in line behind the boys.

“Certainly, sir,” the cashier responded.

The two boys looked in wonder at the man who moved forward to pay. It was the same man who had overheard the exchange.

Brutus felt a strange feeling bloom inside his chest; he couldn’t know that what he was feeling was awe-inspiring gratitude. He could only look in amazement at the man. Barry nodded his head in thanks.

“Merry Christmas, lads,” the stranger said.

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