Shackles: The truth will set you free

by Dianne J Wilson

  They’d barely pulled out of Sally’s driveway, when Tim tackled Jason.

  “What in the blazes has just happened in there? What are you, some weird white Sangoma6? How did you know all that stuff about her?”

  Jason grimaced. “You don’t know the half of it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Flip Halloway, how long have we been friends? You can’t seriously keep me in the dark.”

  “Problem is, I don’t know what’s going on myself. If I knew, I would tell you.” Jason kept driving, looking straight ahead, not wanting to see Tim’s reaction. “You know the shackles from my dream? I keep seeing them on people’s arms and legs. And I’ve been hearing voices.” He thought for a moment then corrected himself, “One voice actually. In Maxine’s lounge, I saw her family.” Jason looked at Tim, “I saw her family, Tim. That’s not normal.” He shook his head and turned his attention back to the road. “To be honest, I’m freaked out. I don’t know what to make of all this. It started the day I found the portrait and the letters. Maybe I need some serious therapy. I don’t know. The only thing I’m sure of is that I must find Rebecca. That’s been the only constant driving me since I found that portrait. Maybe she’s the key.”

  Tim took it all in and said nothing. The silence grew thicker and more uncomfortable with every passing second. Eventually he asked, “Uh, where are we going?”

  “Hey?” Jason sat up and looked around as if seeing things for the first time. “Oh heck. I wasn’t paying attention. I haven’t a clue where we are.” Pulling over, he dug out the map and started trying to pin point their location.

  “Do you want me to drive?” Tim sounded genuinely worried.

  “Just because I’m hearing voices and seeing spooks, doesn’t mean I’m senile!” He stopped for a moment and looked at Tim, consternation written all over his face.

  Tim’s eyes stretched as wide as dinner plates, “Spooks, huh?”

  Jason winced and buried his head in the map book, groaning. “Dear God, I think I need help!”

  Chapter 17 – The Boss and his Servant

  Hazel had been awake since three in the morning. She only had to be up by five, but after tossing and turning for twenty minutes she gave up, wrapped herself in her fluffy gown and headed for the kitchen.

  She made herself a strong cup of coffee, and went to sit by the large fireplace in the lounge. The fire had nearly burnt out, but was still giving off comforting warmth. A feeling of anticipation was fluttering in her gut. Unable to pinpoint the source of the excitement, Hazel turned her thoughts heavenward — “What are You busy doing, Lord?” She sat quietly, not really expecting an answer but so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t hear the soft footfall coming from the main living quarters of the farm.

  “Why aren’t you sleeping?” The voice interrupted her thoughts so rudely that she nearly dropped her coffee in her lap.

  “What the— Oh, it’s you!” Relief flooded her voice. “Jammer Groot Baas. I just can’t sleep. Let me make you some tea.”

  Hazel moved to get up, but Edward Rochester put a hand on her shoulder to stop her, “No, you’re off duty now. I can get my own tea. Would you like a cookie?”

  The whole situation was so bizarre – so backward – that Hazel found herself saying, “That… would be nice. Enkosi7. ”

  It didn’t take long to re-boil the kettle, and soon Edward joined her in the lounge. “Would you mind some company?” He seemed so much softer at this time of the morning, a completely different person. Hazel wondered if she were dreaming.

  “No, Baas.” Her ebony face crinkled into a smile, full of love and respect. “Why can’t you sleep?”

  “Well, I could ask you the same thing, Hazel.” He sipped his tea, “I’ve been thinking about Madam Maxine. I don’t know if I made the right decision.” His gaze slid sideways to Hazel, “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

  Hazel could see the strain in the lines on his face. Every crease told its own story of grief. Emboldened by the strangely free atmosphere, Hazel took her future in her hands and asked, “Have you ever thought of asking Lord Jesus what would be best?”

  Rochester’s eyes slid sideways and he peered at Hazel from under a skeptical brow. “I’m not really in the habit of talking to invisible deities. That’s your department. Besides, I wouldn’t know what to ask, or how to recognize the answer if it ever came. Not much point, is there?”

  Bold beyond her natural self, Hazel asked, “Would you mind if I pray for you?”

  “Now?”

  “No time like the present, they say. Would you mind?”

  Rochester snorted, “I guess it can’t do any harm. Just don’t expect me to believe it.”

  Hazel grinned at him, “You only have to believe what you see for yourself.” Perching on the edge of her chair, she rubbed her hands together to get some warmth into her fingers. Then she prayed simply, “Lord Jesus, please show my Baas what to do about Madam Maxine. Thank you, Lord.”

  There was nothing else to say and the two drained their cups in silence. They parted company soon after, Edward to his quarters and Hazel to hers to get ready for the day. As much as she tried to ignore it, the bubble of anticipation in her belly was growing.

  __________________________________________

  Hazel was completely frustrated. The day had passed like any other, but the anticipation wouldn’t leave. It reminded her of the last days of her pregnancy. Every morning had been filled with a ‘maybe today’ expectation, and disappointment had ruled at the end of the day when labor hadn’t begun. All through the roller coaster of emotions ran the strong track of certainty that sooner or later, a baby would arrive.

  Which he had, albeit seven long days late.

  Shaking off the past, Hazel tried to focus on preparing Bobotie8 for dinner. Rochester was back to his normal stern self, as if their conversation in the wee hours had never happened. Hazel knew him well enough by now, not to expect anything different. Claude was still missing and Kenneth was throwing himself into work around the farm, trying to extinguish the anxiety that threatened to consume him. The whole atmosphere on the farm was pretty grim.

  Putting the Bobotie in the oven to bake, Hazel was reaching for the dinner plates when the crunching of gravel outside announced the arrival of a car. Hazel’s heart fluttered and she nearly dropped the plates. “This is it!”

  Outsiders rarely set foot on the farm, so this arrival heralded something out of the ordinary—even if it was just Claude returning home—though the amount of ruckus from the four dogs hinted at the arrival of a stranger. Hazel wiped her hands on her apron and headed to the front door.

  __________________________________________

  “I’m telling you, we should have turned right at the last four-way stop.” Tim’s patience was fast dissolving.

  “Okay, okay. Relax. I’m turning back. You’re just sour that we didn’t get to Gold Reef City.”

  Tim’s silence said it all. Jason had hit the horse on the nose.

  “Tim, I’m really sorry. I just didn’t feel at ease about wasting any time when we’re so close to our goal. Once this is over, we’ll go back and do all the touristy stuff we didn’t get to this time around.”

  “At your expense, hey?”

  “At my expense.”

  Tim cheered up a little. “Here it is, left here. There’s the sign, Sun-kissed Farm, Edward & Maxine Rochester.”

  Turning off the tar onto a well-maintained dirt road, Jason felt his heart flip. The thought that he might be so close to finding Rebecca played havoc with his sub-conscious, causing him to be thoroughly disagreeable.

  Tall evergreens lined the road, not with the stately precision of the ultra-rich, but with a natural grandeur that was breathtaking.

  Leaving the trees behind, they crested the last hill leading to the farm. From this height, they looked down on a sprawling double story building that lit the surrounding grounds with a dull glow. The impression it gave was one of ‘welcom
e’, but Jason had been around long enough to know that one can’t always trust first impressions.

  The driveway was a fascinating combination of paving stones and gravel that led right up to the front of the house. Here, the paving and gravel formed a huge rendition of a sunrise, which Jason suspected was Maxine’s idea. It seemed very appropriate for a farm named “Sun-kissed”.

  From meters away already, they could hear a tremendous commotion coming from somewhere behind the building.

  “Oh no. They’ve got dogs.” It was too dark for Jason to see the color of Tim’s face, but he even sounded pale.

  Pulling to a halt on the paved sunrise, Jason tried to sound relaxed, “Don’t panic. They must be locked away, or they’d be drooling and slobbering at your window.”

  The words had hardly left his lips when four growling dogs leapt on their vehicle, barking and drooling with gusto.

  “Uh—what now?” There was the faintest tremor in Tim’s voice. Next to injection needles, dogs were his least favorite thing. One of the dogs scraped a tooth across the window causing a marrow-chilling screech reminiscent of nails on a blackboard. Tim groaned.

  Jason couldn’t help himself, “You get out first and run that way to create a diversion, and while you keep the dogs busy, I’ll quickly run to the house and see if Rebecca’s here.”

  “Oh, that’s just perfect. I get to be dog dinner and you get the girl. Don’t know why I didn’t think that one up myself.” He honestly sounded offended.

  Jason smacked him on the shoulder with a fist, “I’m joking, you nit. Lighten up. Oh look – there’s someone at the front door calling the dogs.”

  The coast was soon clear, and they made their way to the front door. They were met by a round, African woman who – for some unknown reason – looked very excited to see them. Jason could see no shackles on her arms or ankles.

  Not waiting for introductions, Tim asked, “Uh, where are the dogs?”

  The lady smiled warmly, “Don’t worry, Young Baas. It’s safe now.” She turned her smile on Jason and he immediately felt understood. It was a very peculiar way to feel, moments after meeting a stranger for the first time.

  He held out his hand, “Hi. My name is Jason.” With his other hand he gestured toward Tim, who was still trying to peer past the woman in search of the dogs, “This is Timothy.”

  The woman shook his hand firmly, and bobbed her head at each of them, “Baas Jason, Baas Timothy. I’m Hazel. Come in, come in.”

  She led the way to the kitchen and in a blink had them settled at the over-sized kitchen table with coffee and sugar cookies. Settling herself opposite them, she asked, “What can I do for you?”

  Jason swallowed his mouthful of cookie and said, “These are really good. Did you make them?”

  “No Baas Jason. Rebecca did.”

  Her simple statement sent a chill down Jason’s spine. Goosebumps trailed his arms. Looking at the cookie in wonder, he stared at Hazel, completely bemused. “She’s why I’m here.” Holding onto the cookie as if it were Rebecca’s hand, Jason asked, “Is she here? Can I see her?”

  Concern and excitement fought over Hazel’s features. Excitement won. “The Lord has sent you here.” Looking up towards the ceiling, she exclaimed, “Dankie, Liewe Here!9”

  Jason glanced across at Tim. His face was such a picture of wide-eyed horror that Jason nearly laughed out loud. This woman was actually talking to the ceiling. He had to set the record straight, here and now.

  “I hate to disappoint you, but the Lord didn’t send me here.” He said it with a smile to soften the blow. He would hate to hurt this kind woman. “Tim and I came here to look for Rebecca, all by ourselves. Nobody—sent us.” He was furiously and deliberately ignoring the memory of the voice in his head.

  Hazel was smiling at him and nodding in that patronizing way that obviously said that’s what you think.

  Jason decided to drop it. “Back to Rebecca—is she here?”

  Concern pushed excitement off Hazel’s dark face. “No Baas. She’s been missing for over a week.”

  Disappointment and weariness crashed in on Jason. Smacking a fist on the kitchen table, he swore. He instantly felt guilty, but fought the urge to apologize to Hazel. After all, she was only a maid, and not a very helpful one at the moment.

  “Baas Kenneth thinks he knows where she is. He can tell you where to find her.”

  “Is he here? Can I talk to him?”

  Hazel was already shaking her head, “Had to go to the neighbors for something.”

  “This is ridiculous.”

  Hazel shrugged apologetically

  Tim nudged Jason, and whispered, “Don’t forget Maxine.”

  The last thing on earth Jason felt up to, was discussing all that now. Hazel had sharp ears though, and had overheard the name. “What about Madam Maxine?”

  “I need to speak to Edward Rochester.” Jason felt the hours of driving settle into his shoulders, and drag at his eyelids. “I’m so tired.”

  Hazel asked intently, eyes boring holes in his head, “What about Madam Maxine?”

  “I can’t say. I must speak to Edward Rochester.”

  With a sigh of resignation, she relented. “Okay. I think he’s in his study. Follow me.”

  Chapter 18 – Close but not Enough

  Jason’s heart was thumping so loudly, he was sure that Tim and Hazel could hear it as they trailed through the oversized farmhouse. A very observant person under normal circumstances, Jason found himself facing two magnificently carved oak doors, completely clueless as to how he’d actually got there. Everything paled in comparison to the pale eyes in his mind, which were now permanently linked to the young woman’s face from the photo. The photo had taken up permanent residence in Jason’s top pocket and was already dog-eared from being taken out and examined.

  Hazel turned to face them, concern creasing her features. “I must warn you boys, he can be—” Her face crinkled even more as she hunted for the right word, “—rather blunt at times. Like a bear in a trap. Don’t pay too much attention, he’s just hurting.” With that, she turned and knocked on the door. Hearing the summons, she disappeared inside, leaving Jason and Tim like schoolboys lined up to see the Headmaster.

  Tim jabbed Jason in the ribs, whispering furiously, “Blunt? A bear in a trap is not BLUNT. It’s vicious – ready to take your head off with one swipe of its paw. What does she mean?”

  Jason was saved from answering by Hazel’s reappearance. “Mr. Rochester will see you now.” She held the door open for them and whispered as they walked past, “Remember what I said.”

  Jason took in the room with a quick sweep. No clutter, very little by way of decoration. The only extravagance was a huge oil painting that took up all the free wall space above the bookshelf to Jason’s left. It was a magnificent rendition of a sunrise over the farmhouse. The colors that the artist had used transformed the ordinary scene into something extraordinary, bordering on Heavenly. “Wow.” Jason couldn’t help himself. He stood staring at the painting, drinking it in.

  “Uh, Jason?” Tim tapped Jason’s shoulder with a good bit more force than was necessary.

  “Wha—” Jason turned away from the painting and found himself face to face with Edward Rochester. His eyes widened in shock. The man before him was a mere shadow of the man he’d seen smiling down at Maxine in the vision. The silver hair was the same, but the man himself was haggard, tired and old. Feeling awkward, he held out his hand to Rochester in greeting, only to realize that he was still clutching the half-eaten cookie that Rebecca had baked. Floundering badly, he quickly pocketed it and brushed crumbs off his fingers. Unable to meet Rochester’s eye, he stared at the painting, shifting his feet on the rich maroon carpeting. This was not going well.

  Rochester stood staring at him, one eyebrow lifted and a vaguely amused look on his face. “You like the painting.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “It’s… magnificent.” Jason floundered for words. “And that’s
a complete understatement.”

  “My late wife painted that.”

  Jason frowned, doubting his ears. “Your late wife?” Shock overcoming embarrassment, Jason stared at Rochester.

  “In a sense, yes.” He looked briefly at the painting, shook his head and turned back to Jason. Case closed. “Why are you boys here?”

  Jason hadn’t known how to broach the subject, but seeing the opening, he took it. “Well actually, Sir, we are here because of your late wife.”

  The faint trace of amusement vanished from Rochester’s face, taking with it the thin veneer of cordiality.

  Jason looked at Tim. “Where do I start?”

  Rochester moved out from behind the desk and started herding them towards the door. “Don’t bother. You are leaving.” He moved with astounding alacrity for his frail frame.

  Jason dug in his heels, “Please. Just hear me out. It will take five minutes.”

  “I want you out of here.” Cold fury blazed in his eyes.

  Jason swallowed hard. Tim had moved behind Jason and seemed dead-set on keeping Jason between himself and the angry man. No point being brave when no one was around to see.

  Fired by the vivid memory of the vision he’d seen, Jason wouldn’t budge. He pitched his voice low, not timid but determined. “For the sake of your family. Please listen.”

  Something inside Rochester dissolved. Folding his arms across his chest, he glared at Jason. Making no movement toward the chairs, he said, “You have five minutes.”

  __________________________________________

  Hazel set the table as she normally would. On impulse, she added two extra place settings. Call it a hunch she said to herself. The excitement in her belly had been replaced by a vague unease that flip-flopped inside her like a beached fish making her feel sick.

  She’d just put everything in order for the evening meal, when Kenneth arrived home.

  “Who’s here? What’s going on?”