Poacher

by Leon Mare

  Job was having none of that, and pretended to have missed the gesture. ‘The nkosi will only be back very late, missy. He said for me to tell you not to wait for him,’ he tried, which was a fatal mistake. He had never really been good at inventing lies.

  ‘Job, open the gate this very minute.’ Her tone of voice made it very clear to him that the time for trying to douse the fire was long gone. With grave misgivings about his beloved master’s chances of surviving this one, he shrugged and opened the gate.

  As she drove in, she noticed the Alfa was standing in the car port, and through the open garage doors she could see the rear end of the Porsche. Linda was the only person she knew who owned a white Porsche, and little voices in her head started screaming all sorts of things at her. She got out and confronted Job with a sense of foreboding. ‘What is going on here?’ Hands on hips in the typical menacing attitude of the female getting her blood up.

  Job was distractedly contemplating his big toe idly burrowing into the dirt. ‘Hau, missy,’ he said.

  ‘Job!’ She stamped her foot. ‘Where have they gone?’

  ‘I don’t know, missy.’ The toe was now unearthing a very interesting looking larvae of some sort, and Job was totally engrossed in its struggles to burrow back into the earth.

  With a shrug she strode into the house. Job had achieved nothing yet as far as cleaning the house was concerned. Two dirty plates in the sink, two on the breakfast table. She felt the pressure building behind her eyes as she walked towards the bedroom. The bed looked as if a rugby team had sent its loose forwards over it a couple of times, and expensive female apparel was strewn all over the room. She felt the room tilting, and put her hand out to the door frame for support. Her head was spinning and her brain was having difficulty in assimilating the facts being sent to it. This was impossible. Not her Sam. No way.

  And yet . . . she surveyed the room once more, turned and walked to his study. She sat down behind his desk and rummaged for a pen and paper. No paper. She tore a page out of his radio report book, but found that there was nothing she wanted to say to him. She scribbled a few words, went back to the bedroom and put the note on is nightstand. She removed the engagement ring and looked at the diamond glittering in the palm of her hand. Her eyes stung as she closed her hand around it and pressed her fist to her cheek. Consternated, she went on her knees in front of the unmade bed and lowered her head, closing her eyes. ‘Oh my God, What did I do wrong to have this happen to me? I love this man more than my own life,’ she whispered through her tears.

  Job, who had come sneaking down the passage to see if there was anything he could still do to try and save the day, regarded the young woman crying on her knees in front of the bed, and decided that this was way out of his league. It would be an excellent idea to get some distance between himself and the house for a few days. He had no intention of being in the vicinity when the nkosi returned with the other woman. He would get a few things from the compound and just vanish till the dust had settled.

  Estelle stayed on her knees for a full fifteen minutes, alternating crying and praying. Then it was over.

  She got up, put the ring on top of the note and walked out.

  During the drive back to Satara her mind was blank. The guest house in Satara, although situated in the rest camp itself, provided a certain amount of privacy for its occupants. It was built at the edge of the camp, and overlooked the bush and a nearby drinking trough.

  As she walked toward the front door, she was surprised to find her dad on the stoep, reading a novel. Without saying a word he dropped the book and got up, wincing at the pain etched on his daughter’s face. She ran up to him and threw her arms around his neck, breaking down completely and crying, totally beyond herself with grief. Dr. Fisher could feel the spastic contractions in the long muscles of her back, and she was shaking like a reed in a strong current. At that moment he felt as if he could throttle Sam Jenkins with his bare hands.

  They went inside and talked.

  ‘You knew about this, Dad. Why did you have to bring me here, instead of just telling me?’

  ‘Would you have believed me? Would you have believed him if he had denied it? You would have spent the rest of your life with uncertainty nagging at the back of your mind.’

  She looked at him for a long moment before hugging him again. ‘You are the wisest and most wonderful father in the world. Now I want to go home. Is your business finished?’

  ‘I never had any. Let’s go.’

  They only got away from Louis’s place at about eight in the evening, having spent a most enjoyable day lounging around his small pool. Everybody, both tourists and staff, being confined to the rest camp from dusk till dawn, it was now safe for them to travel along the tarred roads without fear of somebody seeing them together. They only stopped once to follow a pride of hunting lions for a short distance down the road, but they were both tired and wanted to get home.

  Sam swore loudly when he saw that his gate was standing wide open. ‘What the hell is going on here? I’m going to skin that bloody Job alive.’ The headlamps illuminated a bushbuck ram sampling the crisp leaves of the lettuce in a small vegetable garden near the kitchen door. ‘There could be a bloody herd of elephants in here too,’ he fumed as he got out and retrieved the torch from under the seat. ‘Stay put for a moment while I try to get this guy out of the yard.’

  He carefully avoided shining the light directly into the bushbuck’s eyes as he circled it. Making sure that the animal saw him clearly he approached carefully, clicking his tongue. A wounded bushbuck ram, or one that felt cornered, for that matter, was a very dangerous animal. It was one of the very few antelope that had no qualms about attacking when provoked. This fellow, however, could not help but notice that its avenue of escape was wide open, and with a bark and a flash of white tail it was out of the yard. Sam closed and locked the gate behind it, and they entered the house through the kitchen.

  He regarded the shambles of dirty dishes and glasses. ‘I wonder what has happened to the old bugger. He looked quite OK this morning. He is a bit of a weekend drinker, but it’s very unlike him to indulge before the work is finished. I suppose I had better get down to the compound and see if he is ill. Want to come?’

  ‘Yes, just let me get to the bathroom first.’ She walked right past the ring and the note without noticing anything.

  It was pretty late by now, and the compound was shrouded in darkness, the only sign of life a heap of glowing coals where the cooking fires were still smouldering. Sam tapped the horn a couple of times and got out of the Toyota. After a while a weak torch approached through the darkness. ‘Nkosi,’ came Aaron’s greeting. ‘Is there trouble?’

  Aaron’s father had been one of the very first black rangers in the Park, and it had always been his father’s ambition that Aaron should achieve something better in life. Aaron, however, had harboured no such ambitions. Under pressure he had attended the University of the Western Cape, attaining a BA degree. After graduation he had worked in a bank, till the demise of his father, upon which he promptly reported for duty at Sam’s house. It had taken a considerable effort to convince the Parks Board that Aaron was indeed not over-qualified for the job. Sam had never regretted the effort he had put in to get Aaron appointed as his chief ranger.

  ‘No, Aaron. I just want to find out if Job is all right. He disappeared from the house today without cleaning the place, and he also left the gate open. I thought maybe he had fallen ill.’

  ‘Hau. The women tell me he came in here this morning, looking as if the very devil himself was chasing him. He took his bed roll, some food and water, and grabbed his spear and vanished into the bush. He refused to explain himself to anybody. I think maybe he’s got the illness of years in the head.’

  ‘Apt description of senility, Sam thought. ‘All right Aaron, we will track him down in the morning if the lions have not eaten him by then.’

  ‘The lions will not get him. He may be old and slow, but he knows the bush
too well.’

  ‘I know, Aaron, I know. Anyway, get some sleep now, we’ll talk in the morning.’

  Sam was worried. Something was very wrong here. He knew that some of the older blacks held belief that distance solves everything. If there was trouble, just get as much distance as possible, in as short a time as possible, between yourself and the source, and everything will come up roses. ‘Jesus, Joao!’ He made a U-turn through the bushes, revving the truck and charging back to the compound. He had been so occupied with Linda that he had let his guard down. The thought of Joao had not crossed his mind once. He skidded to a halt in front of the gate, where Aaron was already waiting, having heard the hasty return of the Toyota.

  ‘Maybe it’s Joao at last. We had better take a look. Linda, you are going to have to stay in the compound with the women for a while. Aaron, get the men out to stand guard. Only you come with me. Too many people creeping around in the dark will cause accidents. Is Job the only one outside the compound at the moment?’

  ‘Yebo, nkosi. I will be ready in a second.’

  Sam was checking his gun. For night fighting he would have preferred the R1 or LM5, but the Winchester would have to do. ‘I’m sorry about this, Linda, but you’ll be safe here.’

  ‘Do you really think he will come back to take revenge?’

  ‘I am one hundred per cent sure he will. He and I both know this thing can only be settled in one way. But what worries me is the fact that he also knows the bush, so he should not really be slinking around out there in the dark, unless he’s really desperate enough for it to have clouded his judgement.’

  ‘I know it is something you have to do yourself, Sam, but please be careful.’ She kissed him passionately before walking into the compound. Sam and Aaron got away from the road and started stalking the house in a wide circle. He had not locked the gate again on coming out, so there was no need to take the key along.

  After two hours they were convinced that there was no threat from outside the yard, and they went in. Nothing in the overgrown garden either. In going through the house Sam also didn’t see the note. He was too intent on the possibility of AK47 bullets that could start flying at any moment.

  Nothing. Something was amiss. By now he had convinced himself that this was not Joao’s doing. If he had been lying in ambush and missed his first opportunity when they arrived, his hand would have been forced by now. It was past midnight, and he decided to fetch Linda and get some sleep.

  In case Joao was around, he had decided that they would sleep in a different room that night. If a RPG7 rocket or a hand grenade came through his bedroom window he did not want to be there.

  He was taking a shower while Linda was trying to create a semblance of order in the house. The absence of Job still niggled at his subconscious. He had missed something somewhere, and it bothered him.

  He was busy toweling himself, when Linda walked in. He wanted to remark about her absence from the shower but the expression on her face stopped him.

  ‘Sam, there is something you had better come and have a look at. We’ve got trouble.’

  ‘What is it?’ He wrapped a towel around his loins and followed her into the bedroom. ‘Come on, girl, what are you talking about?’

  She just pointed at the nightstand mutely.

  For a moment the ring baffled him, and then it registered. He closed his eyes and felt numbness settling in every muscle of his body. He approached the ring like a small rodent mesmerised by a snake. As he picked it up his eyes fell on the note:

  Sam, you have just killed something that was worth more to me than life itself. Understand me. It is irrevocably dead. I never want to see you or hear from you again in my life. EVER!

  Linda looked at him. ‘Oh, Sam, I am so sorry.’ When he did not respond she left the room silently.

  He sat staring at the message in his one hand, and the ring on the other, for a long time.

  Eventually Linda came in with two steaming mugs of coffee. ‘I have put some of your rum into it,’ she said, putting one down on the nightstand, and sitting down next to him on the edge of the bed.

  She endured the silence for a while longer, sipping her coffee. ‘I am truly sorry that this has happened, Sam. I’m crazy about you, maybe even in love a little, but it has always been my wish that we would only find joy in each other, and not cause anybody pain. Forgive me.’

  Still no reaction.

  She put her hand on the back of his neck and pulled him towards her. ‘Sam, I’m talking to you.’ The pain evident on his face shocked her. ‘Sam,’ she put her mug on the floor and hugged him, both falling back slowly onto their sides, facing each other on the unmade bed. His pupils contracted and he sat up.

  ‘I have to go to her now.’

  ‘Sam, don’t be crazy! It’s 1.30 in the morning and you haven’t slept a wink. Get some rest first, and then find out where she is. For all you know she is in the Park for the weekend, in which case it would be a very stupid move to rush up to Pretoria.’

  ‘No, she will have gone back. I must see her. Better get your things, and we can travel together up to Nelspruit.’ She realised that it would be best not to say anything more, and commenced getting her things together. He got up with a sigh and silently threw his toilet ware and a clean set of clothes into a carry-all.

  As they walked towards their cars she was surprised when he put his arms around her and gave her a gentle squeeze. ‘I supposed we’ve been asking for this for a long time. It was bound to happen sometime.’ He dropped his arm. ‘Stay behind me. We will go slowly while we’re still in the Park.’

  It was just after five when he stopped at the big crossroads just outside Nelspruit and got out, stretching his tall muscular body with the grace of a hunting cat. All the way from Orpen Gate the Porsche had stuck to him like a leech, no matter how hard he pushed the Alfa. At one stage, in some very treacherous curves which he knew well, he had positively tried to pull away from her. She had realised it immediately, and had nearly given him a heart attack by actually passing him on the inside of a long curve as he was drifting outwards.

  He walked up to the Porsche as she got out. ‘You really are bloody something,’ he said, grinning.

  ‘I am quite willing to gamble my life once more just to see that smile again.’

  Immediately his face became sombre again. Putting his arms around her, he rested his chin on her head. ‘Good-bye, lovely Linda.’

  ‘Good luck, and drive carefully. Will you promise me something?’

  He pulled back and looked in her eyes. ‘What?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter when or what time you come back, promise me you will stop by and tell me how it went.’

  She saw him hesitate. You will marry me, she thought, no matter which way things go today. I love you and I will have you, no matter what it takes. Pushing her thoughts aside, she grabbed a bunch of hair above his ear between the thumb and forefinger, and shook him lightly. ‘You owe it to me, you bugger. We are in this together, remember?’

  ‘Yeah, sure. I promise.’

  She gave him a sisterly peck on the cheek and got into her car. ‘And remember to drive carefully.’ The Porsche roared off, and he shook his head as he watched the rear end threatening to break away as she rounded the corner under power in a controlled drift.

  Nine a.m. found him cruising down Church Street in Pretoria, hardly able to keep his burning eyes open. He found a garage with clean rest rooms, and after shaving and brushing his teeth, he felt he could face the world again. He had some misgivings about facing Estelle and his future in-laws, however. He put on his clean set of clothes, and with a heavy heart he headed for Waterkloof Ridge, the suburb in which the Fishers resided.

  Stopping in front of the house, he spotted Dr. Fisher snipping at some roses. Dr. Fisher had expected Sam earlier, and had been pottering around in the front garden since seven that morning.

  ‘Morning, Doctor,’ Sam put out his hand, which was accepted, but his greeting was not returned.

>   ‘What the hell did you have to go and do that for, you stupid bastard?’ Dr. Fisher wanted to put anger in his voice, but there was only sadness.

  ‘I agree that I was being a stupid bastard, sir, there are no excuses, only a bitter regret. I love Estelle. I doubt if she will ever be able to forgive me, but I will make it up to her somehow, even if it takes me the rest of my life.’

  ‘I very much doubt if you will get a chance,’ he said gruffly. ‘She doesn’t want to see you again, but have a go at it anyway.’ He jerked his head in the direction of the front door.

  Sam hardly touched the doorbell when Mrs. Fisher opened the heavy kiaat front door. Her eyes were red, and she looked haggard. ‘You have some nerve to come barging in here after what you have done to Estelle. What do you want? Do you realise how much pain you’ve caused her? Why don’t you just go back to the other woman. Estelle doesn’t want to see you.’

  The door started swinging shut, and Sam put his foot out. ‘There is no other woman in my life, Mrs. Fisher.’

  ‘Do you mean to tell me you deny it?’

  ‘I am not denying the presence of another woman in my house, but I am denying the presence of another woman in my life. There is a difference, you know.’ There was a hard determination on Sam’s face. ‘I love Estelle. I want her back. I want to marry her. You want me on my knees begging? I’ll get down on my knees and beg. Anything. Just let me talk to her.’

  Estelle appeared next to her mother, and something tore inside Sam when he saw how terrible she looked. ‘You’ve heard my mother, Sam. I did love you, but not anymore. Please leave and don’t come back.’

  He opened his mouth wordlessly and the cold expression in her eyes frightened him. ‘Don’t touch me, Sam. I meant what I said. I don’t love you anymore. Nothing that you can do or say will change that. Not ever.’ She stepped back and calmly shut the door in his face.

  Dr. Fisher was still with his roses. Don’t be intimidated, man, he willed Sam. Kick down the bloody door and talk some sense into their heads.