0.0.0.0 Would Our Legacy Survive?

by Richard Graupner

  ‘Nathan,’ came the short reply.

  ‘Nice to meet you, Nathan’ I replied. ‘My name is Kay.’

  At this point, the old lady was quite close, so I waited. She arrived next to Nathan and took his hand protectively, pushing him a little behind her. We stood there assessing each other, until Nathan told her my name. Tilting her head slightly, and seeming to make up her mind about something, she asked quietly where I was from. After explaining as best I could, she nodded and said simply, ‘The wise ones!’ I was a little taken aback by this and could not stop myself asking what she meant. ‘I call you that,’ she said, ‘because you seem to be keeping civilization going, and you are working together. Out here, we have done nothing but fight each other and destroy. Life here is very negative.’

  ‘But you remember, as I do,’ I said. ‘I see your influence in the children. You too are trying.’

  ‘It is easier now that we are so few,’ she said, ‘but that will change again when I am no longer here.’ The sadness in her eyes was heart-rending.

  ‘Then the time is now for us to make a change to how we live, for I too am approaching the completion of my time on earth. You and I, and others like us, need to get together and ensure we do not leave without passing on what is necessary for the children to be able to grow up happy, knowledgeable, and safe.’ I waited, watching the play of emotions on her face, the years of hardship fighting a difficult battle with the possible hope of something better.

  Eventually she managed to get out one word, struggling to hold back her tears. ‘How?’ is all she managed to say. I noticed the little girl appear at her side, peeking around at me. I looked back at the older woman, unable to fully comprehend what she must have endured in trying to bring forth her approach to life within the savage conditions in which she must have lived. The fact that she was still alive was a testament to an obviously strong fighting spirit.

  ‘By working together,’ I said. ‘We can do it. We simply need to want to do so, and we, from our side, believe the time is right. We need to do so now, or we will lose the chance to recover for a very long time to come. I needed to talk to you first, without the others, as there is little trust between people at this time. I need you to convince them to talk with us, to see what we do and how, and then decide whether they wish to join us. We want all the people of the area to be one, as it was before, with decent rules of living and surviving through helping each other, not fighting each other. If we continue the fighting for even another ten years, we may find ourselves going back to the Stone Age.’ I paused, watching her carefully. A tear rolled down her cheek, and it was obvious she was hoping beyond hope that this could be what she must have been praying for all these years.

  ‘Will you help?’ I asked quietly.

  Before she could answer, a young lad jumped out of the garden of the house to my front and left, carrying a large sharp-pointed stick. ‘Don’t worry, Ouma,’ he said, ‘I will protect you.’ I turned my open palms forward, a signal to Thomas and Dave to wait, not to do anything. Both of them were armed with bows and were very good at using them. I now saw the reason he had not left with the others. Being so far away yesterday, we had missed the fact that he was injured. He had a bloody patch on his right side, a wound I had seen before. Our area had a tough little animal, about the size of a medium dog but built solid like a bulldog. The warthog had a vicious set of mandible tusks that he was well prepared to use, and if trapped, he would charge you down and gore you if he managed to knock you over. It must have been the warthog they were bringing back with them last night. He was in obvious pain but was putting up a brave front.

  I took a gamble and said gently, ‘Fighting the warthog and stopping him from getting away was very brave. Your family must be proud of you.’ He stopped, the tip of the spear almost level with where the old lady stood.

  ‘Jonathan’ she said, ‘put the spear away. This lady is a friend, and we are going to see much more of her if I have any say in the matter.’ He was puzzled, but lifted the spear into the vertical and leant on it, hoping no one would notice. I would offer to help him shortly, but I needed to finish the conversation.

  ‘My name is Kay,’ I said holding out my hand. I could sense Thomas and Dave cringing at my offer to touch, but I was betting on the reason that this small group had survived was because of this old woman’s application of her hygiene knowledge gained before the Fall. Without any hesitation, she stepped forward and took my hand in both of hers.

  ‘Serena,’ she said, ‘my name is Serena.’ I could not help myself. I gently released my hand, opened my arms, and said, ‘Hello, Serena.’ The hug was long and firm and I simply held her as she sobbed quietly on my shoulder. My instincts had been right about the timing.

  When she finally released me and stepped back, beginning to apologise, I held up my hand and with tears rolling down my cheeks attempted to look behind her. She understood, and stepped a little to the side allowing me to see the puzzled looks on the youngster’s faces. I went slowly down on my haunches, the walking stick having fallen over during the hug. I opened my arms, betting on the fact that from the hug that I had received from Serena that she had regularly hugged the children. I remember my parents teaching me how to hug properly, ‘Heart-to-heart, full body,’ they had repeated to me. They were right, it was the only way. The young boy was the first to react, hesitantly coming forward, putting his arms around my neck. Once attached though, he was genuine, and I felt Serena gently releasing his arms.

  I had not realised I had closed my eyes, and when I opened them the young girl was standing quite close. ‘My name is Heidi,’ she said.

  ‘Hello, Heidi,’ I said, opening my arms. My eyes brimmed with tears as I recalled the last time I had spoken to my uncle in Australia via Skype and seen my young seven-year-old niece of that name, wondering for the umpteenth time what had become of them and other family members.

  Standing once again, I looked at Jonathan. I could see he was keen, but he was grown now and at that unsure age between accepting and giving hugs. Not wishing to embarrass him I walked over, hand outstretched. ‘Pleased to meet you, Jonathan,’ I said. He reluctantly put out his hand, but once we gripped, I could sense his need to belong. ‘I have something with me that can help that scratch on your side.’ It was far more than a scratch, but I was sure that that was what he called it. ‘May I have a look?’ I added as I took my light bag off my shoulder. I always carried a blend of herbs with me that we crushed into a paste for wounds and scratches. The paste had excellent antiseptic qualities and had proved its worth over the years. Although nearly a day old, his wound had been well cleaned, but infection from the warthog saliva was still a real possibility. From past results with this paste, though, I felt we had an excellent chance of preventing the infection. Serena assisted me, putting his mind at ease while I gently smeared the paste on the wound. I knew from experience that it stung, but Jonathan retained a stoic face, showing nothing of what I am certain he felt. I marvelled again at our inbuilt need to always put on a brave face. Handing him the remainder of the paste, with instructions to clean the wound and replace daily, I asked him if he could take Nathan and Heidi a little way down the road so I could finish my conversation with Serena.

  The two of us chatted for a little while longer, and I explained what I felt needed doing and listened to her comments. When I turned to leave, this wonderful old lady had a purpose that showed in her face, and her posture had improved. I knew I would see her again shortly.

  Thomas and Dave remained hidden until we were well away from the town and could not be seen. I needed the group in town to feel trusted as I was asking them to come to our fold, and for them to trust us in the process. I was sure we would see them soon. Thomas agreed. Dave though was a little more sceptical, but that was his nature. I set off for home with a spring in my step and an energy I had not felt in a long time. We needed to move apace as I had left the majori
ty of our food with Serena. I felt the bread and cheese would be like a feast for them and would assist in convincing them to visit us, providing Serena with some ammunition as she of all of them would remember what bread and cheese was.

  Chapter 25

  It was twelve days since leaving that we arrived back at our village. It was mid-afternoon, and the village looked peaceful and content in the softening late autumn sun. I was looking forward to a decent wash and the home comforts I was used to. Despite all that I had been through in the past fifty years, I was still amazed at how easily we became accustomed to regular surroundings.

  As we approached the village gates, Angela came out to meet us, trying her best not to run and to remain composed. She did a poor job of it though, and I must admit it felt rather pleasant to be missed so. She was the closest thing I had to a daughter, not having had the chance to raise a family myself. Although I understood the reason behind this, and that all the hard work and sacrifice put in by everyone so far was bearing fruit, I still often caught myself wondering what it would have been like to have been a mother. If I had been able to emulate my mother to even some degree, I would have been content. Another lifetime maybe.

  Angela’s hug was wonderfully reassuring, and I was up to date on the village proceedings before we even entered the gate. Gerry was waiting there, quietly and calmly asking if all went well, and he enquired on my health.

  ‘I feel absolutely wonderful,’ I exclaimed. ‘I will tell you all about it after dinner if that is alright?’ It was fine by him as usual, and he went off in his normal relaxed manner to check on the herds coming in for the night. Angela walked with me to our rondavel, not getting much of my attention at this point as I was occupied with returning greetings and well-wishes along the way. I almost bumped Jenna over as I entered. She had placed a bowl of hot water for me to wash and was on her way out to collect a cup of tea for me. I hugged and thanked her, stroking her long, dusty-blond hair as I did so, and she beamed in her usual open way.

  ‘Guess what!’ I said as I remembered the plants I had been given. Jenna spun around in the doorway, and her grey-green eyes lit up with excitement. She loved a mystery but never could contain herself.

  ‘What?’ she said, her eyes wide and sparkling.

  ‘Thomas and Dave have taken four new plants down to the gardeners. It is absolutely the most wonderful herbal tea. The other two villages stumbled on it, separately it seems, and I managed to convince them to part with a few plants. The plants apparently grow very well, so we will shortly have sufficient for the village as the plants also propagate well from cuttings.’

  Jenna clapped her hands like an excited young girl and shot off to get my tea, mumbling something about there still being some honey. You could not help but love her dearly.

  Angela helped me wash as I explained the happenings of the past days and the potential we had now to take our fledgling society to the next level. Not having to constantly be on guard and to be able to expand our ‘working environment’, in a manner of speaking, would greatly enhance our abilities to develop further. Angela was excited through all this, but she became a little apprehensive when she heard I had asked the town group to visit. This was understandable, as we had undergone more than one run-in with this group over the years, and we had lost a few people and a fair amount of animals to them.

  One of those people had been a young village lad who had befriended Angela before she had moved in with me; he had been killed by the stampeding cows that had been frightened by the activities and noise surrounding the attack. He had sneaked out, against instructions, to see what was happening. Angela, looking after a fair-sized group of frightened children, had not noticed and still blamed herself today, despite all she had learned from me and the books. I suppose it was understandable. Sad, but understandable.

  It seemed this young boy had taken the place of her young brother who she had been unable to save years before when he was bitten by a poisonous snake while out in the veld. From her description, it seemed it was the venomous and very aggressive black mamba, which was indigenous to our area. These snakes, along with the spitting cobras, were always given a wide berth if seen, as they were unpredictable, and an effective bite was mostly fatal. We had one youngish lass, as well as one of the tame jackals, who had been blinded by the spitting cobra. Both had adapted well though and could move around the village with little assistance.

  That evening after dinner, when I had explained what the other villages had experienced, and that we all appeared to have the same feelings about the future, there was an air of excited anticipation. This was a long time coming, and we had discussed how we might manage this on many occasions. When things finally quietened enough, I continued with the explanation of my ad-hoc approach to the group in the village. As I concluded, I said gently, ‘I know it appears I jumped the gun and took matters into my own hands. I simply trusted my instinct, and I now believe I was right to do so.’ It was quiet for a few moments, until I was reminded of one of our unwritten rules.

  ‘You should have asked us first,’ piped Philip from my left. He was right, of course, but before I could respond Thomas stood up, with Dave close behind.

  ‘May I address the gathering?’ he asked Gerry.

  ‘Please do,’ was all Gerry said, trying to remain impartial.

  Thomas turned to the gathering and began nervously, gaining confidence as he explained the interaction in the town as he had seen it. Dave nodded often, and even had tears in his eyes when Thomas was explaining the hugs between me and the town residents. Finishing off, he said this. ‘Kay did not tell you all this in her explanation, as she probably did not want to sound pompous or something like that. But you had to be there to see this and the effect on them. Dave and I did not want Kay to go into the town, but it was right that she did. I believe we will all see this clearly if they come, and I surely hope they do.’

  It was silent for some time, which was eventually broken by Patrick. He never said much, but when he did, it was nearly always pearls of wisdom. ‘We all knew this day was coming. You cannot plan everything in advance, and I trust Kay and the lads. I will make myself ready to entertain our guests.’ Patrick stood up, thanked everyone for dinner and headed off to bed, making it very clear that as far as he was concerned the matter was resolved and acceptable. He was pretty much acknowledged as Gerry’s right hand, and like Gerry, people respected his opinion. I made a note to give him a big hug the first moment I could.

  The rest of the gathering broke into smaller groups and wandered off or stayed in the hall to talk. From the mood, I knew it would be alright. Turning away, I noticed Gerry watching me. His wink was infectious, and I immediately felt better. Bed though, sounded like such a good idea after the past days and excitement, and I knew I was going to sleep well. Very well, in fact.

  Chapter 26

  I awoke to the sounds of the village well into its morning routine. I lay for a while longer, pondering the last few days. Dad would be happy. He had always said it would be alright. We simply had to persevere and have the courage to make the moves when the time was right. Contemplating this, I felt suddenly that he was there with me, and I suspected that he had also been there in the town, quite possibly orchestrating events.

  ‘I thought I had managed to stop you controlling my life,’ I said in mock anger, and I could imagine him grinning at me from the shadows of the rondavel.

  I jumped when Angela poked her head in the door and said, ‘You called?’ I had not realised how loud I had talked to my father. After hearing me explain this, Angela nodded, taking it in her stride, and she said she would be right back.

  Breakfast was the usual, with one difference. It seemed they could not wait to try the new tea.

  ‘We did ask permission of the bush,’ they explained sheepishly, having picked a few leaves from the newly planted bushes to try it. I suppose they were trying to mitigate the
ir guilty feelings by including me in the group doing the testing. I tried to sound angry at this but it was a lost cause – the tea was simply too good to resist. I ate breakfast with Angela sitting quietly opposite me, watching me with that frank openness I was still getting used to. There was something on her mind – that was obvious. After I finished up my breakfast, she took the plate and cup and disappeared to the kitchen. She was back shortly with another mug, this time my usual lemon tea.

  As I took a sip, she sighed and said softly, ‘I need to know.’ I sat and waited. ‘I need to know the rest of your story. When the new group arrives it will get too busy, and I know we will not easily get the chance again.’

  Bless her. I felt it was not just her wanting to know, but also her intuition prodding her to allow me to tell what I had not yet told another soul. She wanted to help me expunge a few ghosts from my past and so help me put my mind at ease.

  ‘Where did I stop?’ I asked.

  ‘Your father had burnt the upper house to the ground to avoid someone inhabiting it,’ she replied.

  I was thoughtful for a moment, trying to get myself back to those days.

  ‘It was when I was about twenty-five years old that my father said he had found someone he could trust, also with a small group. Two families who had lived on farms way out off the beaten track and as such had managed to survive after their labour had moved to the cities, thinking they could survive better there. The families had made it look like they had gone to the city while in fact they had simply hidden out of sight after driving off, camping in the bush for a number of days. The growing surly mood of their labour had initiated this move, and they had done so just in time. Immediately after leaving the farms, their homes had been ransacked, and they were devastated on their return days later, as well as exhausted from the constant vigilance. They had made the mistake of moving back into the homesteads and were confronted one night by a group obviously travelling from other farms. They had survived, except for one of the sons, and had done so only because they were more proficient with their weapons than the roving band of six that they had to kill to survive.’