by T. M. Clark
‘Need. Want. It’s basically the same. Besides, it gets drunk before it goes hard, so what’s the problem?’ she argued.
‘Ten rand,’ Enoch lamented, ‘that could have bought us sweets to eat while watching the TV. Instead, all our money is gone on Milo.’
‘You’re just a sore loser because I got to choose the luxury this week,’ Chloe said, grabbing a few of the bags off the back, before realising that Enoch was no longer listening, but walking to the rear entrance of the garage.
She frowned. ‘Where’s Xo?’
‘He should be here.’
‘Xo,’ she called.
Silence answered.
Enoch frowned. ‘Something is not right.’
They walked towards the house and caught a glimpse of a green bakkie tucked in next to the workshop.
‘Shit,’ Enoch said. ‘That drunk prick Sebastian is here again.’
‘Can I get to throw him out this time?’ Chloe said.
‘Fine, just do it fast. We do not want Mike upset,’ Enoch said through clenched teeth.
Sebastian Smith was their very racist neighbour, and a member of the white supremacist—bordering on neo-Nazi—separatist political party Afrikaner Partisans. He was a stereotypical boer in every way, right down to wearing only khaki shorts and shirt. Aged about fifty, Sebastian was under the misconception that he could visit the farm anytime he wanted to, and say whatever he wanted to his ‘when-we’ neighbours. He revelled in trying to cause mischief for Chloe with the doctors, that Enoch and Xo lived inside the house with her, because as far as he was concerned, under the laws of apartheid, black and white people couldn’t live in the same place.
Mike seemed to hate Sebastian with a passion. Once Mike had hobbled in from his room to see Sebastian in the kitchen, giving Ethel a mouthful. Mike walked up to him, took a pan that was hanging on the rack near the stove, and managed to clonk the unsuspecting Sebastian on the head with it.
It was the most violent thing they’d seen Mike do since the incident, and if they needed any further proof that they didn’t need Sebastian in their space, that was it. Although, if Enoch was honest, he was happy to see that Mike had controlled his muscles and been coordinated enough to actually pull it off with his one working arm.
‘I hope he has not got too many drinks inside him,’ Enoch said as they ran towards the stables.
Tanked up, Sebastian often came spoiling for a fight. They’d called the police multiple times for help. But they always seemed to take their time, as if Sebastian wasn’t a real threat to them.
Sure enough, Xo was standing inside Sirocco’s stable, and Sebastian was leaning on the stable wall just outside the door, as if needing to be propped up.
‘You need to know your place, boy, and it’s beneath a white man’s. You when-wes mustn’t get too comfortable in South Africa. Soon all you foreigners will be running back to your own countries when we bring in some proper laws to beheer your kind. When one of my people retakes control of South Africa. We have a promised nation here. A white man’s land. None of this leniency nonsense that the current government was starting to show towards you black terrorists —’
‘Sebastian! What are you doing here?’ Chloe said.
He spun around, staggered a little, and was clutching at his chest. ‘Hello, Chloe. You’re home from shopping already?’
‘Don’t hello Chloe me, get back in your bakkie and leave. You’re not welcome here.’
Enoch stood like a granite wall behind her.
‘I was just terugkeer one of your sheep that got through the fence and was mingled in with mine. Can’t a neighbour be neighbourly?’ Sebastian said. Now that he was propped up against the wall again, he was standing okay, but he still held his chest.
Enoch looked at Xo, who rolled his eyes. ‘The sheep isn’t one of ours. I told him. He brought over a merino, we only have dorpers. It’s in the back of his bakkie still.’
‘You accusing me of not knowing what your sheep look like? I’m going to bliksem you now, you dumb kaffir,’ Sebastian said, trying to get into the stable, but every time he went near the door, Xo would tickle Sirocco’s tummy, and the beautiful horse would pin his ears back and attempt to take a bite out of Sebastian. Even in his liquored-up state, Sebastian seemed to realise that the horse was not something to trifle with and he retreated.
Enoch frowned, remembering how many hours Xo and Chloe had spent teaching the horses tricks when they were still in school, and exactly how long Sebastian had been coming around to their farm, still sprouting the same bullshit all these years later. The kids had grown up, but Sebastian hadn’t changed.
‘Sebastian, just leave,’ Chloe said, ‘before Dad sees you. I don’t need him upset.’
‘I’ll go, but you need to keep your kaffirs in check. This one,’ he pointed to Xo, ‘thinks he’s white. Watch them, they’re going to steal everything from you,’ Sebastian said with venom in his voice.
‘I’m going to call the police again,’ Chloe said.
He staggered and started to walk past her, but stopped.
Mike had just hobbled through the door.
‘Shit,’ Enoch said.
Mike looked at Sebastian, and he rocked on his feet. A strange sound came out of his mouth. It was simultaneously mournful and sadistic. Almost otherworldly.
‘Your spastic father’s in my way,’ he said to Chloe, ‘I can’t leave if the old fool is blocking my path.’
Chloe bunched her fists. ‘Enoch, can you escort Sebastian out? I’ll walk Dad back inside.’
However, Mike was not budging. Even though he was not as muscular as he had once been, he was still strong. Enoch and Ethel made sure that he did his exercises every day as the physiotherapist had instructed.
‘Come on, Dad, let’s go inside. I know that Ethel was making some nice vetkoek today, let’s go see if they are almost ready.’
But Mike wouldn’t move even when she took his hand in hers and tugged on it. He remained rocking, watching Sebastian.
‘Stupid old fool,’ Sebastian said as he attempted to pass, but instead, he pushed into Mike, who made the sound again, only this time it was a little louder.
‘Do not touch Mike,’ Enoch warned.
Sebastian stepped backwards, then in all his drunken wisdom, decided to take a step closer to Mike, only to find Chloe standing between them. ‘Get out of my face, now,’ she told him. ‘Touch my father or me again, and I’ll make you pay for it.’
Sebastian seemed to understand that Chloe’s cautioning was real. But he wasn’t about to lose face to a woman.
He lifted his finger and poked it into her chest. Just once.
Chloe reached forward, and Sebastian screamed.
‘I warned you. Loud and clear,’ Chloe said as she let his hand go, his finger hanging limply where she had dislocated it at the knuckle. It’d be useless until a doctor put it back in place.
Sebastian bull-charged Chloe, who was still standing in front of Mike, taking down her lighter weight easily.
As they tumbled backwards, Enoch watched in horror as Sebastian’s head slammed into Chloe’s face, causing her head to snap back into her father’s; Mike’s head smashed into the hard cement floor, as they landed on top of him.
‘No!’ Enoch roared as he grabbed hold of Sebastian by the belt and lifted him off Chloe and Mike. He tossed Sebastian away from them as if he was a rag, and not a one-hundred-kilo farmer.
Sebastian recovered faster than Chloe and Mike, and while Enoch was asking Chloe if she was okay, he went for Enoch. But his movements were slow, and his arms flailed wide of their intended target. The dance of a drunk man.
Enoch smashed his hand into Sebastian’s face, and the man dropped.
‘Xo, get out here. Help Mike and Chloe,’ Enoch instructed as he walked towards Sebastian, not wanting to take his attention off the man again. Enoch grabbed some of the rope from the rack opposite the stable.
But as Xo came out of the stable, Sebastian caught his foot with
his hand that wasn’t damaged and tugged.
‘Dad!’ Xo called.
Enoch grabbed the shovel next to him and hit Sebastian on the side of the head. This time he didn’t get back up.
Despite wanting to check on Mike and Chloe, he checked Sebastian’s vitals first. Never leave yourself vulnerable to another attack, the voice of his Grey’s Scouts instructor echoed in his head. Don’t turn your back on the enemy until you know they are dead.
Enoch put his two fingers onto Sebastian’s neck. He had a pulse. He was unconscious, and a large hematoma was already forming on his temple. ‘That is going to hurt. At least you will be out for a while.’
Turning his attention to Chloe, he checked her pulse, too.
It was fast but steady. She had a bloody nose from taking the impact of Sebastian falling on top of her and had bitten through her lip.
He picked her up and cradled her in his arms against his chest. ‘You gave me a fright,’ he said softly, wiping his fingers over her nose to remove some of the blood. ‘He is asleep now. He cannot hurt you again, angel.’
But she didn’t come around. ‘Xo!’ he shouted at the top of his voice. ‘Xo, woza!’ Then he turned back to the girl in his arms. ‘Come on, Chloe, do not make us have to take you to hospital unconscious. Come on, wake up!’ He could hear the difference in her breathing as she began to surface.
‘I have got you; you are safe,’ he said, and she wrapped her arms around him without opening her eyes.
‘Enoch,’ she sobbed. ‘I hurt!’
‘I know, I am sorry I was not quick enough, but he is down now.’
He felt her pull away from his chest. Her eyes were partially closed already, too swollen to open properly. Looking around through slitted eyes she asked, ‘Where’s Dad?’
‘He is here next to us; I will have to take him to the hospital. He will be alright, but he hit his head when you fell.’
Tears leaked from underneath swollen eyelids, and she attempted to sniff.
‘Yuck,’ she said as she tasted blood.
‘Spit it out, do not swallow the blood or you will vomit later.’
‘Dad,’ Xo said quietly next to him, putting his hand on his father’s shoulder.
‘You alright, Xo?’ Enoch asked.
‘I’m okay. I was grooming Marin when Sebastian came at me. That stallion kicked him double barrel in the chest. I got into Sirocco’s stall, and he’d only just got up and carried on his sermon about how useless I was when you guys came home. That kick was direct and hard. I can’t believe he got up again, and then still tried to fight.’ He took a breath. ‘Chloe’s a mess.’
‘We need to get them to the hospital—get Chloe in the front of the bakkie and keep her awake. I will put Mike and Sebastian in the back,’ Enoch said.
‘Are you okay, Dad?’ Xo asked.
‘Just my pride is dented for not having protected you guys from this shitbag.’
‘Thank goodness,’ Xo said as he hugged his dad and Chloe. ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘let’s get you some help.’ He lifted Chloe into his arms and carried her to the bakkie, then quickly climbed into the driver’s seat, and the bakkie started with its customary back-fire. He reversed it out of the workshop and up to the stables, then tossed in some blankets to cover the back and used one to create a pillow.
‘Take his feet,’ Enoch said as he bent low and lifted up Mike. Mike was almost as tall as Enoch’s six foot one, but not as broad, even when he had been at his physical best. He was a heavy man to lift.
They dragged him onto the back of the bakkie, and curled his legs up inside the bin area. Then they rolled the still-unconscious Sebastian—now securely tied up—into the horse blanket and loaded him into the back, too, before closing it.
‘Drive fast,’ Enoch said. ‘Mike is in bad trouble.’
CHAPTER
6
Africa Top 6 Trophies List
1.Leopard
2.Lion
3.Buffalo
4.Rhino
5.Elephant
6.Man
CHAPTER
7
Douglas stood quietly in the back of his bakkie, his viewing platform in the absence of one being provided at the pan. The sun had risen early, evaporating the dew drops, and giving a promise of a hot day filled with bright sunshine, and later thunderstorms with life-giving rain. And in anticipation of the coming deluge, fat-bellied impala strutted around, waiting to give birth in a synchronised breeding strategy as old as Mother Africa herself. In front of him, the elephant drank deeply from the waterhole. The beast was old; his age showed in his sunken face, in the discolouration of his long tusks, and the tattiness of his ears where the edges had been torn away over time as he’d walked through the bushveld. The elephant seemed aware of Douglas and his team—as was befitting such an old soldier—but he clearly didn’t believe there were any threats to him here in the reserve where he ruled by size alone.
‘He’s magnificent,’ the German hunter, Heinz Koch, said. ‘I can see why you brought me here; it was worth the long trek.’
Douglas smiled and patted him on his shoulder. ‘I’m glad you like him. But we can’t hunt him in here. We’re still within the boundaries of the Kruger Park. Good news is, he’s migrating north. This is the last stop in the national park that the elephants make before they push down the fences and cross over into the hunting concessions.’
Heinz nodded. ‘And this is why you come highly recommended. This elephant will make a fine trophy. One I’ll be proud to hang on my wall.’
‘Come,’ Douglas said, ‘we can follow him for a while in the vehicle. It’ll be another day before you can think about getting your rifle out, but he’s yours.’
Heinz made to get ready to jump off the back of the bakkie. He was only about five foot six, with short blond hair, and a little on the tubby side, but he made up for the lack of height in personality. They’d been together for three days while the German was getting over his jet lag, and Douglas already knew that he was an excellent marksman. He’d passed the shooting tests he’d been given when they had zeroed the weapons at eighty metres. Using the bonnet of the bakkie, with a rubber mat thrown over it to keep the heat off the hunter and any scratch marks off the paint, the man had hit the mark that Douglas had chopped into the tree.
Heinz Koch’s guns were well cleaned, and it wasn’t from lack of use—rather from someone who knew how to maintain and care for them and respected them as if they were an extension of himself. The normal test of five to six shots per weapon had been done, but Heinz had done more, not caring about the cost of the ammunition because he genuinely enjoyed his rifles.
Heinz turned back towards the elephant and lifted his hand, pretending his arm was a gun. He made a bang sound, then blew on the tops of his fingers as if clearing gunpowder, before putting away his imaginary weapon, much like a five-year-old playing at cowboys would. He grinned at Douglas.
There were only two items left on Heinz’s list. The elephant was the last animal. Douglas was looking forward to the hunt already. The almost sixty-year-old man’s juvenile excitement had him laughing. Most of his 6th clients were too serious to fool around like this.
‘So, after the elephant, then we get to hunt the apex predator?’ Heinz asked.
‘Show me your skill with this elephant, clean shot. Drop him with one bullet, and then the hunt can begin.’ He stood next to his vehicle, getting ready to leave, then noticed that a Parks Board vehicle had just driven into the area, and parked near the wind-mill that was not rotating, despite the gentle wind. The lifeblood of the pan’s water supply, the windmill pumped the water from deep inside the earth to the surface and into the catchment area, creating a year-round water supply for the animals.
Another reason the animals in the Kruger Park were always in such good condition. Not that it mattered now. With the recent rains, the grass was green and the thick bush was becoming denser by the day. It was a season of growth and expectation in the bushveld.
He watched to see who got out.
It wasn’t long before he was rewarded with seeing the tracker from his previous encounter in the park, and the white ranger who walked alongside him. They were far from the last place they had happened upon each other, and he very much doubted that the rangers had even known Douglas and Aleksy had been there, just a distant whisper in the sands, if, and that was a big if, they had seen their tracks at all.
He got into his bakkie and drove around the pan, right past them. He raised his hat in a polite greeting, and then left.
He had followed many an elephant on this route, and the trophy was always worth the few days’ wait. This elephant would travel out of the park before he would meet his maker.
CHAPTER
8
Chloe woke from a place where there was no pain, where there was no sound, only silence and clouds. She could hear someone breathing close by, but she couldn’t open her eyes to see who it was. She could feel pain in her arm, but couldn’t move it, and her leg throbbed. She kicked out.
‘Chloe?’ Enoch’s gentle voice broke into her confused world.
‘Where am I?’
‘You are okay; you are in the hospital. They had to give you an anaesthetic and set your nose because it was broken, and sew up your leg. Good news is that other than some grazes and scrapes, you are going to be okay, but they want to keep you here for a little bit to make sure.’
‘Dad? Is Dad here with me?’
‘No, my umntwana,’ Enoch’s voice broke as he used his strongest endearment for her and a sob escaped him. ‘He is at home. Xo and Ethel are looking after him.’
‘Is he okay?’
‘The doctors said that his head is bleeding inside again, and there is nothing they can do for him. He is comfortable for now. We always knew that a hard knock on his head was never going to be a good thing.’
‘But he’s alive, he can heal again.’
‘The doctor said he should, given time,’ Enoch said. ‘Sebastian—he did not make it.’
‘Sebastian died?’
‘The doctor said that the bleeding inside his chest, from Marin kicking him so hard, is what killed him. He did not have much time before his body would have given up even before he picked a fight with us.’