by T. M. Clark
‘You sound like you’ve had a really hard time looking after him. You’ve done a great job of it,’ Nick said.
‘It’s not like we had a choice. You do what you have to when it’s someone you love,’ Chloe said.
‘I really used to admire your dad,’ Nick said, looking over to where Ethel was making Mike walk with his stick, encouraging him to keep going. ‘I’m sorry that he got hurt so badly, and that you lost your dad and your mum so close to each other.’
‘Thanks,’ Chloe said. ‘But I still have him—well a part of him anyway.’
‘Let’s get breakfast, and then load these guys into the trailer so we can get moving,’ Xo said as he came up behind them, interrupting their talk.
Nick moved his hand off Chloe’s arm, and she immediately wished he would keep it there.
‘If I remember right,’ Khululani said, ‘we only have to travel for another five hours before we arrive at Mapai for the crossing of the Limpopo.’
Filipe whistled from his watch post on top of the truck. A single soldier was walking back towards them.
‘Get in the truck, Chloe,’ Enoch said. ‘Ethel, get inside with Mike. Nick, you too. They must not know we have white people out here with us.’
Filipe jumped off the top and walked towards the soldier.
Chloe watched the conversation through the cracks in the trailer, until finally, Filipe came back and took a carton of smokes from the truck, then returned and gave it to the soldier, who walked away. Filipe stood watching him go before turning back to the truck.
‘He wanted to guide us the rest of the way to Mapai. According to him, they have set a lot of new landmines in the road, so we will be making our own track from now on, not using the old hunting roads that were here.’
‘And he’s not guiding us because …?’ Nick said.
‘Because while I believe him about the landmines, I’m the guide, and it would look like I didn’t know what FRELIMO were doing if we took another. They would suspect I’m RENAMO and kill me, and attack you guys,’ Filipe said.
‘Good enough reason,’ Nick said.
‘He drew a map in the sand, showing where the new mines are, and I showed him where I knew was mined. So we both gave a little information. Hopefully, he was not lying, but it’s a chance we have to take. It’s going to be slower than it has been,’ Filipe warned.
Khululani said, ‘There is already a single-path elephant track that we will follow. But it is rough. I walked on part of it yesterday. But the truck needs two tracks, and there is lots of bush to pass through.’
‘Damn,’ Enoch said. ‘We were doing so well.’
‘At least we’ll still get there,’ Filipe said. ‘And we know which of the roads have the new mines.’
‘Knowing where they are is a big bonus,’ Xo said.
‘Let us get moving then and stop standing in the hot sun,’ Enoch said. ‘Time to load the horses.’
Xo and Enoch loaded the horses quickly, with Khululani keeping watch at the front, and Nick at the back. Xo grumbled that they were once again on trekking rations, and unable to have a hot breakfast.
Khululani, still in his Parks Board uniform, drove the truck—he sat next to Filipe and Enoch as they bounced their way through the bushveld, around downed trees and huge ant mounds following a winding elephant path.
When they heard a distant explosion, loud and deep sounding, Filipe said, ‘Something just stepped on a mine. That FRELIMO guy warned that they do it all the time on this stretch of road. He said if it happens, to tell the villagers at Mapai to go check for fresh meat when we get there.’
‘But you said it was mined,’ Khululani said.
‘It is, but apparently they have marked out a path to walk on. It is only a stranger to the area who will get blown up there or someone who tries to drive on the road,’ Filipe said.
Chloe shuddered.
CHAPTER
20
Chloe jumped out of the truck, glad to be outside, and gazed around. Khululani had stopped the truck on a small rise. Looking down through the trees, she could see the village on the banks of the Limpopo River.
Enoch stood next to her. ‘Too much water to cross without help, yet low enough that we can still get across.’
‘It’s going to be interesting getting the truck across. You sure you don’t want to leave it on this side and we just swim the horses across?’ Nick asked, standing close behind her.
Chloe shook her head. ‘Not an option. It goes all the way home.’
‘Okay,’ Nick said. ‘But that river looks like trouble to me.’
‘We are just lucky it is not flooding,’ Enoch said. ‘Or we would not have got this far.’ He turned around. ‘Ethel, you can come out now, I will get Mike.’
Xo put the deck chair in the shade of the truck, and Enoch helped his friend into it. He then opened the back of the truck, and they all got busy unloading the horses.
‘I’ll head into the village,’ Filipe said. ‘You coming?’
Khululani nodded.
‘Okay,’ Chloe said. ‘And check if they have a tin tub I can borrow. I would give anything for a hot bath!’
Xo laughed at her. ‘With bubbles too, Your Highness?’
‘You have no idea how much I want to say yes to that, but right now I would just settle for a bath.’
‘And what about smelling like a male? Filipe still wants you to blend in as much as you can,’ Nick reminded her.
‘I’ll stink quick enough in this heat,’ she said, ‘especially if I put these clothes back on. So I don’t see any reason to not at least be clean.’
Nick shook his head but he was smiling.
Filipe and Khululani returned within half an hour. ‘That was fast, did they have a bathtub?’ Chloe asked.
‘I did not get to ask them because we have a small problem. The chief of this village will not let the oxen into the water to pull the truck through because there is a big crocodile that has moved into the area. Unless we can kill the croc, we cannot get their help to cross,’ Filipe said.
Enoch looked at Nick. ‘We can try to shoot it.’
‘That is what I told them we would do,’ Filipe said with a grin.
Enoch, Nick and Khululani got their rifles and walked back towards the village with Filipe.
* * *
The children of the village were the first ones to want to know more about the horses. At first, they kept their distance, looking on, and peeking at them from behind the trees, but gradually they lost their inhibitions, and they came closer when they weren’t chased away until a group of six stood watching them.
Chloe’s heart broke. One girl was about three years old. She walked with two homemade crutches constructed from roughly cut wood. Her right leg was gone from the knee down. Bandages still wrapped around the wound, evidence that this was not an old injury. And that the landmines they had managed to so far avoid were a real threat to everyone in the area. Another boy who looked to be about eight was also on crutches, and he too had part of his leg blown off, the stump shiny with scars.
Chloe silently thanked Filipe for guiding them safely through the area. She was grateful that they’d forged their own road in the last section of the journey, even though it had been slow going.
Xo beckoned the children to join them. ‘Woza, you can come and say hello, but you must approach from the front. Do not go behind the horses.’
The children cautiously approached Xo and the horses, wary of the zebras with no stripes.
A child who introduced herself as Malinda stood close to Chloe. She looked to be about fourteen, tall and at that stage where a girl became awkward while she tried to understand what was happening with her body. Chloe remembered that stage well. Only she hadn’t carried a toddler of about two in a traditional, brightly coloured capulana hanging from her shoulder. ‘Your child?’
Malinda shook her head and smiled widely. ‘My sister, Perfect. I look after her.’
Chloe smiled. ‘Copy me, put yo
ur hand out. The horse will smell your hand, and know you want to be friends.’
Malinda put her hand out, and little Perfect did the same.
Pampero reached forward with her nose and smelled the hand of Malinda. The girl pulled her hand back in fear, but Perfect left hers there, and when her palm touched Pampero’s velvet nose she wiggled her fingers and laughed.
The other children pressed inward. Chloe looked at Xo and smiled as he had the little girl with the blown-off leg on his hip, and was introducing her to Sirocco.
‘You’re a natural with kids,’ Chloe said.
‘I should be, I had you around all the time, but I’m never having my own. There are already too many mouths to feed in this world,’ Xo said.
Chloe smiled sadly and said, ‘I always thought that maybe one day I would be called Aunty Chloe.’
‘Sorry to kill your dreams, but it’s not going to happen. If you want to get all maternal on us, get pregnant and have your own.’
Chloe laughed again.
The little one on Xo’s hip leaned forward, and with both her hands on either side of Sirocco’s nose, kissed him loudly.
Sirocco didn’t pull away, he seemed to sense the precious moment and kept his head very still while the damaged girl laid her forehead on the top of his nose. He blew air out of his nose, and she pulled her head and hands back.
‘Nenga!’ she said.
‘No, he isn’t being disgusting, he’s making friends, zwana,’ Chloe said, and wished she had a camera to capture the tenderness and keep it close always.
Xo hugged the girl and bent down to place her on the ground again, as he helped her with her crutches.
Malinda, seeing the younger child hadn’t been hurt, put her hand out, and this time she left it there when Pampero breathed into it, and she giggled.
Chloe felt someone watching her. She looked up and caught the eyes of a man standing behind the children. They ran off, but he continued to watch her while she brushed the horses, rubbing them down with paraffin to keep the flies and bugs off.
Every time she looked up, he was staring at her.
‘We have a man who is over-curious,’ she eventually said to Xo.
‘I think he’s the village witchdoctor. He has realised that you are a female, and you are white, despite all the dirt on your skin.’
Xo turned to face the man who approached him. ‘Salibonani.’
The man greeted him back, ‘Linjani. Unjani wena?’
Xo said, ‘Sikhona. I am Xo.’
‘Tinyanga Cassamo,’ he introduced himself.
‘Tinyanga, not curandeiros?’ Xo asked, wanting to make sure that the man was a traditional medicine man and not a spirit-guided witchdoctor. He knew that he could not hurry along a traditional greeting, even if you wanted to get rid of the person, as it would be considered rude, even when you knew it was an old man just being nosy.
Cassamo smiled. ‘I’m only curandeiros when there is a need; mostly I am the healer. The one who stops the bleeding in the children after the mines, and the one who makes the crutches and carts so that they can walk and get around.’
Xo nodded.
‘What is wrong with your friend?’
‘Mike?’ Xo pointed. ‘He can’t talk anymore because he hurt his brain and his back, but Ethel helps him to keep moving around.’
‘This is sad for a man to hurt his brain. Is there no medicine that can help him?’
‘Nothing, he is too damaged,’ Xo said.
Cassamo shook his head. ‘Sometimes, even a tinyanga knows that a body is beyond his healing powers. Perhaps it is like that with the doctors where you came from?’
Xo nodded.
‘But he is an ibhiza-idlozi, he can still talk with his ibhiza.’
Xo turned to see that Mike was still sitting in his chair; Diablo had wandered over and was nuzzling him, getting pats. The healer believed that Mike was a horse-spirit, someone who could communicate with horses.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ Xo said.
The old man nodded. Then he pointed to Chloe. ‘I think we both know that she is the first white woman these children have ever seen.’
Xo smiled. ‘Chloe can’t help that she’s white.’
‘True.’
‘I have heard that the other men who travel with you have gone hunting for the crocodile.’
‘That is right. Have you seen it?’ Xo asked.
‘Many times.’
‘We were told that the crocodile attacks men in the water when they try to cross the river,’ Xo said.
‘Some days he swims around and does not take anyone, other times he will attack quickly.’
‘You sure it’s a he?’ asked Xo.
‘It is too mean to be female,’ Cassamo said.
Chloe wanted to laugh, but was still unsure why the doctor had singled her out.
‘You have nothing to fear in this village,’ Cassamo said. ‘When you leave, and I will be curandeiros, I will tell the people that you were never here, that they might have thought that they saw a white lady, but they did not. They will believe me, and they will tell the people chasing you that you were never here.’
‘Why do you think we are being chased?’ Xo asked.
‘No one comes this far into Mozambique from South Africa, heading north through a war zone, unless they are running from something.’
‘You see things that others do not,’ Xo said.
‘Perhaps. I came to ask if the ladies have any dresses they do not want that they could give to the women in our village. Their clothing is old. I am thinking something nice because there is one woman who needs it; she is getting married, and a nice dress will help her, make her feel better about the wedding.’
‘Doesn’t she want to get married?’ Xo asked.
‘She wants a wedding, the lobola has been paid, it is just the man she wanted died,’ Cassamo said. ‘Her parents will not give back the lobola, so there has to be a wedding, so she will marry the brother.’
Chloe at last broke her silence. ‘That’s not fair to her, it’s not her fault that the parents probably spent her lobola and can’t pay it back. Now she’s being punished not only by his death, but by marrying his brother.’
Ethel clicked her tongue in annoyance. ‘How old is she?’
‘Old enough to marry,’ Cassamo said.
Chloe stilled. ‘How old is the brother?’
‘He is not as old as the chief,’ Cassamo said.
‘Eish,’ Ethel said.
Chloe had to bite her tongue hard to stop herself from telling Cassamo that it was in his power to change what was about to happen to the poor girl—she shouldn’t have to marry a leery old man—but the thought of her marrying Nick popped into her head, and she stumbled into Pampero, causing the horse to step backwards. ‘I’ll find her something, but know that I’m doing this for her, not for you, and not for the old man she’s being forced to marry.’
Her mind was reeling at where it had suddenly gone as she went to rummage in her case.
Nick was an amazing man; he was strong, easy on the eye, perhaps a little over-protective. She certainly didn’t think of him as a father figure, but then she wasn’t sure what it was she thought of him as. He was Nick, and until her move to South Africa he had always been there. A little older than she and Xo were, but hanging around with her dad and Enoch. Lately, she would turn her head and find him looking at her, and a feeling deep inside her stomach would flutter. Other times he would catch her watching him and give her this little smile that she’d never seen him gift any of the others. It made her heart sing, made her feel as if she was the only one he cared for.
She did a quick mental calculation—their age difference was probably under ten years, so it wasn’t too bad. It wasn’t like she was still in school and he was cradle-snatching.
‘Here, take this,’ Chloe said as she handed over the only decent dress she possessed.
Cassamo shook it, unfolding the dress, while keeping it out of the dirt, to loo
k at the full-length satin gown.
‘Your matric dance dress?’ Xo said. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, a bride should look like a princess at her wedding,’ Chloe said. ‘Especially if she’s having to enter into something she doesn’t want.’
Ethel patted her on the arm. ‘You have a good heart.’
Cassamo smiled. ‘Ngiyabonga. Sala kuhle.’
‘Hamba kahle,’ Xo said, wishing him well as he left.
‘Hamba kahle,’ Chloe said, then in a quieter tone, ‘he’s thankful, se voet. I bet you he’s the one marrying the young girl.’
‘Maybe,’ Xo said, ‘but it’s good to keep the local curandeiros on our side, just in case.’
CHAPTER
21
The beast lay in the water, half submerged, absorbing enough sunlight to warm his big body, but still keeping it cool. From the massive head, Enoch could see that it was probably between three and a half to four metres, a true monster. The prehistoric creature had always been at the top of the food chain out here in the bush. His size had kept him safe.
Even a farmer knew that an AK-47 was a really inaccurate weapon, which wouldn’t necessarily penetrate a crocodile this size. Besides, many of the bullets that had made their way into the revolution in Mozambique were substandard, making the killing of a big croc difficult. But that wasn’t what was stopping the villagers killing this beast. That was left to the superstitions around the crocodile.
There was also the small problem that sometimes a crocodile just didn’t die from bullet wounds. Nick had heard of more than a few hunters that’d been taken by crocodiles that were thought to be dead—a crocodile could endure many shots from an AK-47, making it an extremely angry predator.
Even with the professional hunting weapons that Nick and Enoch carried, the croc might still be a challenge. If they were lucky they’d get a brain shot and he would die, or they could go for a shot that would shatter the spinal column. But the crocodile’s brain was tiny, just beneath the eye, slightly forward, and often missed, even by professional croc hunters. Alternatively, his heart was about halfway down his body, but you had to get in just where the tough scales turned to yellow and were a tiny bit weaker. And of course, you had to get him out of the water long enough to be able to make the shot. Crocodiles can see really well, and will always slide back into the water, protecting their hearts first when they see something ‘dangerous’ coming towards them. To get this monster at its most vulnerable, he had to be at least three-quarters out of the water.