Lost for words, Rebecca floundered, “You see… well, um. No. Nothing at all.” Feeling a bit silly, yet very aware of a tingle of excitement growing inside, Rebecca shook her head and grinned at the Pastor.
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The rest of the evening flew past Rebecca in a blur. The group had done more reading, lots of discussing. They’d even prayed for Aunty Lily’s back that was giving trouble. Other than her strange mental dialogue with God, Rebecca remembered very little else about the meeting,
Doing his farewell rounds, Pastor Elliot — or ‘rather just Elliot’ he insisted — shook Rebecca’s hand warmly. “I felt strongly that tonight’s reading was meant particularly for you. The whole of Psalm 139 in fact. Spend some time reading and digesting it over the next week. I think God wants to say something specific to you.”
“Thank you, Pas, —uh, Elliot. I’ll definitely—” stopping mid-sentence, Rebecca chewed her lip, “—that is, I would if I could. I don’t have a Bible.”
Doreen jumped straight in, “We will lay our hands on one for you, dear. You can’t find your way through life without the divine Road Map!”
Elliot hugged the short woman fondly,
“Couldn’t have said it better myself, Dory!”
People slowly took their leave, reluctant to break away from the warm fellowship. The ginger-plaited woman hung around until everyone else had finally left. “Pete, can I speak to you and Doreen for a moment?”
Sensing their need for privacy, Rebecca said goodnight and turned to make her way upstairs.
“Hold on a moment.” Doreen crossed to the bookshelf. Finding a spare Bible, she handed it over. “May you find your way in these pages.” Her tone was light, yet a very sincere thread ran through it.
Rebecca took the book with a smile, made no comment, and made her way upstairs.
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Doreen poured them each a fresh cup of tea, and Pete asked, “What’s the matter, Gabby? How can we help?”
Gabby screwed up her nose in a puzzled fashion.
“I don’t know that there’s anything wrong, so to speak. There’s just a situation that I’m uncomfortable with. I need to bounce it off someone. Preferably someone mature who has walked with the Lord for as long as the two of you have. As you know, I only really came to know Him after Chris died.”
Her voice caught and she took a moment to collect herself.
“A guest arrived at the B&B late last night. Napoleon didn’t like him at all. He paid me upfront enough to cover a two month stay.”
“That’s not a bad thing, surely?” Doreen spoke her thoughts out loud then closed her mouth realizing that there must be more to the story.
With a wan smile Gabby continued,
“He told me that he’s in town to finish up some business, and that I shouldn’t let anyone know that he was here.”
She hesitated, looking for the right words. “I sound completely paranoid, but he gave me the creeps.” A pause, “It was more than that actually, he scared me. Not a very nice Christian attitude, is it?”
Pete waved his hand, dismissing the comment. “There’s a time and place for being completely honest. Don’t worry about it now.” Frowning, he asked, “Did he give you his name?”
“He said his name was Claude Rochester. Whether that’s his real name or not, only he would know.”
“Rochester—” Doreen mused. “Why does that name sound familiar Pete?”
“Tickles my synapses too. Can’t say that I know a Rochester off the top of my head. Do you think this chap would hurt you, Gabby?”
“He seemed quite focused on his business, so if I stay out of his way I should be fine. I could be in trouble if he finds out I’ve been talking to you —” her voice trailed off and she gave a nervous giggle.
“This all sounds too cloak-and-dagger for my liking.”
Pete squeezed her shoulder in sympathy and said,
“I have a friend who owes me a favor. I’ll see if he can find out something about this chap. ‘Till then, my suggestion is to steer clear of him as much as possible and we’ll keep praying. He sounds like someone who could do with a Divine encounter.”
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Chapter 7 – Confession, Flattery and Unlocking
“Officer van Wyk, call for you in your office.”
“Thank you, Penny.” Penny was not the brightest receptionist, but she tried hard and always wore a friendly smile.
Gerard van Wyk sat down behind his desk and lifted the receiver.
The voice on the other end was filled with the warmth of an old friend. “Gerard! How are you my buddy? How long has it been now, 3 years?”
“I’m sorry, who am I speaking to?”
“Don’t feel bad, I probably wouldn’t have fared any better. Pete Goodwood. How have you been?”
Gerard’s mind did somersaults. “Pete! How good to hear from you!”
His heart sank as he remembered what he’d just done. He had to tell Pete. “I’m well, what can I do for you?”
“I was wondering if you could do a criminal background check for me. There’s a young lass in our town that I’m looking out for.”
“If someone’s safety is at risk, I’ll do it. What’s the name?”
“Claude Rochester.”
Gerard felt sick. Logging on to the South African Police Criminal database, he punched in Claude’s name and waited. After a few minutes, the green box appeared again, this time boasting no matches found.
“It’s come up clear.” His insides screamed: ‘TELL HIM!’
But how do you tell a friend, ‘The guy is a psychopath, and I just gave him your address.’ Gerard’s courage failed and he couldn’t.
“Pete, just be careful with this guy. My instincts tell me he’s not to be messed with.”
“Sure. Thanks for the heads up.”
He hung up the phone feeling sick to the stomach. Fear ruled his life. He was sick of it. Logging onto the database, he tried to find Pete’s landline number, but came away empty handed. He wanted to phone him back there and then and warn him that Claude knew where to find them. What Claude wanted with such a sweet old couple, he just didn’t know.
There was nothing he could do about that situation now, but there was certainly one other situation he could start setting right.
Feeling like a dead man walking, he took his family’s future and his small thread of courage in his hands, and made his way down the passage to the Commanding Officers fish bowl of an office. There was only one way to break Claude’s power over him. If his confession cost him his job, so be it.
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“Ladies and Gents, your Research Projects are due to be handed in 2 weeks into the third term. Your marks on this project will make up 15% of your final mark. Therefore, these holidays are NOT for relaxing and doing NOTHING. You will need to work your rear ends off to produce Projects that will make the grade. If you are smart, you will work consistently and conscientiously. Don’t say you haven’t been warned. I will see you back here in four weeks time.”
Jason sank behind his desk, relieved that this day had finally arrived and was over. The room was abuzz with an excitement that had very little to do with the work he had just dished out. From his vantage point at the front of the lecture hall, Jason sat and watched. The age-old rituals played out as the chaps swaggered about, trying to be cool. The ladies flicked and fluttered, and laughed and swished. Before long, the first-years had filed out, leaving the room looking like a carcass at the mercy of too many vultures – messily picked clean, and left for dead.
“Hey Mr. Halloway, what’s up?” Spotty Tim arrived and dumped his bag on Jason’s desk with a grin.
Jason eyeballed him severely. “Don’t you give me that bull, Tim-othy.” He put on his sternest voice.
“Jeez, don’t have to get nasty!” Tim hel
d up his hands in mock-surrender. They both laughed.
Theirs was a unique friendship although one was a lecturer and the other a student. Strangely enough, it also helped that Tim was an IT Honors student, and wouldn’t set foot in a history lecture, short of being forced at gunpoint.
“How’s your sleuthing going?” Tim slid onto the desk and helped himself to Jason’s apple.
“Nothing. Complete zero. On the up side, I did get to share Shortbread with a member of the Blue-rinse brigade.” Jason put on a very false, very bright smile.
Tim groaned. “Shame. Tough life.”
Jason lost the smile and looked repentant. “She was actually a sweet old bird, very lonely. I got to feel quite sorry for her.” He looked puzzled, “Strange experience for me – feeling for an old person.”
“Hey, it’s official! Halloway has a heart!” Tim cheered and whistled.
Eyes rolling heavenwards, Jason pushed Tim off the desk.
“Why do I bother…? Seriously though, she told me nothing useful. She was just the Guidance Counselor at Stanton’s school. Hasn’t a clue where he went from there.”
“Did she say which school?”
“East Coast Secondary School.” The lights went on in Jason’s face.
“Tim, you beauty. The school would most certainly have records of some sort.” He checked his watch.
“There should still be someone there now. Come, let’s go!”
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Ten minutes later they strolled into the offices of the East Coast Secondary School. Tim looked dubious, “This place looks deserted.”
“You have a real talent for stating the obvious, do you know that?”
Tim opened his mouth to return the sarcasm but was cut short by the appearance of one of the admin staff.
At first glance she appeared middle-aged, carrying extra weight around her waistline and below her chin. On closer scrutiny, Jason was surprised to note that she probably wasn’t a day older than twenty-five. Peering at them through heavy-rimmed spectacles, the poor girl seemed panic-stricken at the appearance of two male people who were obviously not high schooler’s, and obviously not parents. Jason immediately set about setting her at ease.
“That color is just stunning on you, er—what did you say your name was?” The girl seemed even more flustered, but fingered her brown three-quarter sleeve with a blush. The shape of the top was all wrong for her figure, but Jason was right about the color – it did look good on her.
“My name is Sophie.” Another blush and a small smile. Suddenly remembering to be professional, she asked, “What can I do for you?”
“My name’s Jason, this is my friend Tim. We are looking for an old friend of ours, who used to go to this school roughly twenty-five years back, around 1978.”
Sophie looked dubious. “You would have been a kid twenty-five years back. How could he have been your friend?”
“You’re a bright one, Sophie! He was my Dad’s friend; I’m trying to find him for my Dad.” Some more sugar, “You should think about getting contact lenses Sophie.” He leaned over and removed her spectacles. The improvement was immediate. “Look at that, you look beautiful. Doesn’t she look beautiful Tim?”
Tim mumbled something about a ‘vast improvement’ then trailed off into silence.
Sophie blinked at them in a myopic fashion. “I’ll most certainly consider it. Can I have my glasses back, please?”
Jason reseated her eye-wear, gently brushing her hair back from her ears. The poor girl was completely overcome. With a bright flush staining her cheeks, she said, “I can’t go through the records for you.” With a flick of her head she gestured to the Principal’s office. The door stood partially ajar, the sounds of a computer keyboard in use coming from within. The hope in Jason’s heart died.
“But I can give you the name of the guy who organized the twenty-year reunion for the class of ’78 a couple of years back. I had just started working here.” Eager to please, she dug around in her drawer, pulled out a leather-bound telephone directory, and jotted down a name and phone number on a neon pink Post-It note. With a huge grin that made her double chin look smaller, she handed it over.
“Sophie, you’re the best. So efficient and so kind.” Jason squeezed Sophie’s hand in thanks and she thought she would faint. Holding herself up on the counter, she breathed, “If there’s anything else I could do for you, just let me know.”
“I’ll do that. You have a good afternoon now.” With that, they turned and walked out quickly.
Walking to Jason’s car, Tim tackled him, “How do you do that? Within two seconds flat she was eating out of your hand. If you’d proposed to her she would have fallen on her knees on the spot to accept. It’s ridiculous.”
Jason shrugged, “All women want to feel beautiful. But they are also very aware of their worst features. If I had told her that she had a stunning figure, she would have been offended because she knows that she doesn’t. The key is to find something that you can single out and compliment in earnest. Woman have built in lie-detectors, so if you stick as close as you can to the truth, while making them feel good about themselves, you’re home free. You can get whatever you want from them.”
Tim’s look was a mixture of awe and complete horror.
Seeing the look, Jason sighed, “Don’t look at me like that. I’m disgusting, I know. The worst part is I have this brand-new conscience that I didn’t ask for. It makes me feel bad about things that I used to be proud of. How screwed up is that?”
Tim floundered, not knowing what to say. Eventually all he managed was, “It’s not a bad thing you know — having a conscience.”
Jason unlocked the car and they both climbed in.
“I don’t want to talk about all that. Let’s find a phone and see what this chap knows.”
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Rebecca threw the brush on the bed in disgust. She’d been trying to brush her hair for the past ten minutes. Her right shoulder ached from the effort, and her hair still stuck out in all directions. Classic sleep hair. “I give up. I’ll just have to look like a clown for the rest of the day.”
Just then Doreen’s sunny face poked through the doorway. “Good morning! What’s the matter?” Seeing Rebecca’s dilemma, she offered, “Let me help you with that, love. Give me the brush.” The bed creaked under the little round woman’s weight as she seated herself behind Rebecca and began rhythmically detangling the heavy blue-black locks.
Rebecca closed her eyes and felt relaxation flowing from the top of her scalp throughout her body. She loved having her hair brushed. She wondered if her own Mom had ever sat and brushed her hair like this. Everyone comes from someone; surely she must have had a Mom?
Lifting Rebecca’s hair up, Doreen began brushing upward from the nape of her neck. The brushing stopped mid-stroke. “That’s very interesting. You have a birthmark in the nape of your neck that looks exactly like a flying bird. It actually looks like a seagull! Did you know that?” The brushing continued.
Rebecca laughed ruefully. “I maybe knew before, I certainly didn’t remember that now! How strange.”
“It’s beautiful. There you go. All done. After breakfast Pete and I are going for a walk around the property, would you like to join us? Fresh air will do you good.”
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Both Pete and Doreen had an easy way about them that could make anyone feel at home. They took Rebecca along one of their favorite short hikes, Pete filling her in on interesting tidbits about the local fauna and flora as they went. He’d grown up in the area and loved all the living things in it.
Rebecca took it all in with a sense of wonder. Being surrounded by a sea of trees as tall as buildings; all whispering in the wind, filled her with a childlike excitement. She somehow managed to resist the urge to skip through the dense mat of fallen pine needles. She even resisted the urge to spin until she
fell over from dizziness, but she could not stop the bubble of laughter that formed in her belly and wouldn’t be contained. She felt so free. One laugh shook loose another, then another. Feeling helpless, but not really caring, Rebecca laughed until the tears ran. Stomach muscles aching from the effort, she hunched over forwards, hands on her knees. The pain in her shoulder sliced through her mirth, bringing the fit to an end. Breathing deeply, she managed to regain composure and looked up to see Pete and Doreen grinning at her in delight.
“It’s good to hear you laugh, dear. Don’t feel strange. This place has that effect on one. You go ahead and let it all out. You’ve been through a lot and this is a good, healthy way to flush out the stress of it all.” Doreen came over and helped her upright.
Rebecca dried her eyes and sniffed. “Wow! Where did that come from?”
“Stress release, dear. Don’t worry about it. It’s your body’s way of coping with all the strange things that you’ve been through. Don’t give it a second thought.”
Pete chuckled in agreement. “I think its part of the healing process. Let’s move on, ladies. You’re going to love this next bit. It’s just over this hill.”
The hill proved to be a stiff upward push. Rebecca could feel a drop of sweat trailing down her spine, followed by another and another. She soon lost count. It was hot, hard work despite the early morning chill, but her body was loving every minute of it. She could hear the rippling rush of water off to her left, though the river itself was beyond view. The forest smelled damp and earthy, the air still carrying traces of mist.
Puffing and panting, they crested the hill. Veering off toward the river, the ladies followed Pete through a leafy tunnel; now climbing over, now ducking under the myriad of branches that crossed the path. Stepping into a clearing, Rebecca recoiled at the suddenly deafening roar from the river. Hands blocking her ears, Rebecca looked around and gasped at the scene before her.
Shackles: The truth will set you free Page 6