A Stirring from Salem

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A Stirring from Salem Page 7

by Sheri Anderson

“Her meltdown on the plane is already online,” Vince said as he showed it to Charley.

  “What?” Charley was dumbstruck.

  “Spectator.com,” Vince said.

  Charley’s heart sank.

  “There are times when gossip is good, but this ain’t one of ’em,” Vince added. “See if you can find out who gave it to them. I want whoever’s responsible fired.”

  On the first day the clinic was fully open in the new year, a line of Xsoha men, women, and children stood outside. Some had traveled from their nearest rural villages by minibus, some on bicycles, and others by foot for the free medical services they’d come to depend on. They waited patiently outside in the dense heat while Bill and Cornelius prepared the exam rooms for the general physicals and the free TB and HIV tests.

  “How many are out there?” Bill asked as Cornelius brought boxes of condoms from the storage room. The tribesmen had once believed that the white man was trying to keep them from procreating, not saving their lives, but now they were finally accepting distribution of both male and female condoms.

  “Looks to be about fifty,” Cornelius answered as he set the boxes on the counter.

  “And we got our supply of ARVs?”

  The government had been providing the antiviral HIV drugs to the private clinics as part of a massive drive to stem the tide of the deadly disease, which was crippling the country.

  “Last Tuesday,” Cornelius answered. “I told you last week.”

  “Right,” Bill answered, though in truth he had no memory of that. “When’s Kayla due in?”

  “You asked me to tell her we could handle this morning because she had to cover New Year’s Eve.”

  “I did?” Bill asked.

  “She’ll be here around noon to head over to the weavers,” Cornelius answered. “You okay?”

  Bill merely nodded.

  A lithe young girl of about fifteen came from the back with a large pitcher of iced tea.

  “For you,” she said simply. She wore a colorful red top and skirt with bracelets up both forearms and at her ankles.

  “Thank you, Beauty,” Bill said with a smile. The girl, whose name actually was Beauty, had volunteered to help in whatever way she could after Kayla nursed her mother back to health from a severe bout of malaria.

  Cornelius took three tumblers and poured each of them a glass of the cold liquid. One had a worn, etched “H” in gold, and he handed that one to Bill.

  “And thank you,” Bill said as he took his drink and downed it.

  “Should we get started?” Cornelius asked.

  “One thing first,” Bill said. “I’m sorry about the problem with the van the other night.”

  Cornelius was circumspect since Beauty was nearby. “I put the new tire on my personal credit card. And got a spare.”

  “You didn’t tell Kayla, did you?”

  “No. Nor did I tell her that while I was out there I saw one of the dead rhino that was part of that bloodbath.”

  “Wow. At least they got those guys,” Bill said, shaking his head. “Rangers and even an owner. Unbelievable.”

  “One of those guys used to hang out at the Safari Club. I used to toss a few back with him. Seemed like a good guy,” Cornelius said. “Guess he thought all that cash was worth the risk.”

  “Guess so,” Bill said, his mind reeling. His own financial pressures were weighing on him heavily. He wiped his brow.

  “You sure you’re up to this?” Cornelius asked.

  “Absolutely. We have a job to do.”

  Bill nodded to Beauty, who stood waiting for their instructions. Her English was good enough that she served not only as an aide but also as a translator for patients who only knew their native Xhosa or Sotho.

  “Remind them to be patient. We’ll make sure we have time for them all.”

  “I will, Dr. Bill,” she said, smiling. “Thank you.”

  Beauty bowed lightly and went out the front door as the light from the summer sun poured in. As she guided in the first patients, a mother with two small children, Bill could see two top-of-the-line Londolani Rovers pass down the bumpy road toward the game farms.

  Because it was midday, the drive to the game farm from Hoedspruit airport was extremely hot. It was the height of South African summer, after all.

  The countryside was also serene and nearly indescribably beautiful. With a climate that often mirrored Tuscany or the Santa Barbara coast in California, the terrain included soft rolling hills, soaring mountains, and dense vegetation due to the unpredictable summer rains. But there were no skyscrapers, electrical wires, telephone lines, or billboards to mar the view. It was nature at its most perfect.

  “Where are all the animals?” Scarlett called to the game ranger, Ben, from her high third-row seat in the Rover.

  While they’d glimpsed an occasional wildebeest, impala, and what might have been zebra through the dense brush, the sightings were minimal.

  “Good question. Anyone want to guess the answer?” the khaki-clad thirty-year-old asked. Though an apprentice ranger, he was one of the most knowledgeable in the Timbavati and liked to encourage his guests to learn.

  “I think it’s because of the heat,” Charley offered. She wasn’t used to being low man on any totem pole, so she had no qualms about speaking up. “They’re buried deep in the mud or the bush.”

  “Exactly! They are where we’d like to be right now. Taking naps in whatever shade they can find,” the khaki-clad ranger offered. “And there’s plenty. That’s why our drives are at sunset or sunrise,” he added.

  “Cool!” Brigitta piped up.

  “The only time it is.” Ben smiled at the flaxen-haired beauty. He liked Brigitta’s youthful enthusiasm.

  Scarlett didn’t. “Wait,” she blurted. “What time is the game ride?”

  “There’s one every night at sunset, but we’ll be shooting in the lodge starting at six so we’re going to miss it. Then there’s dinner so you can get to sleep early. Your call time is 3:00 a.m. for the five-thirty ride,” Charley told her.

  Scarlett fell back in her seat. “And for so much money,” she grumbled.

  The truth was that cover and editorial shoots were not that lucrative in the scheme of things and never had been. They were for the visibility and prestige. True, they could pay upwards of seventy-five thousand dollars, but the modeling megabucks were reserved for endorsements. Bulgari, Christian Dior, Victoria’s Secret. The current and only super-supermodel, Gisele Bündchen, was worth more than one-hundred-fifty million dollars, but that kind of money was rarer than hen’s teeth.

  The Rovers turned down a narrow road and within minutes were in front of the open, thatched-roof main hall where six staff members in African regalia were waiting.

  Vince was first out of the Rover, with Charley scrambling out right behind him.

  “Make sure everyone stays close and heads right into reception,” she instructed Kelly, the assistant assigned to the rest of the creative team.

  As everyone piled out of the Rover, Charley and Vince headed inside.

  Charley was taken aback as she entered. She had been raised by one of the top designers in the world in exquisitely furnished homes in London, Monte Carlo, and Malibu. Her parents both collected art from Picasso to Degas and Rothko. And still she was impressed.

  “Mummy would have loved this,” Charley gasped as she got her first glimpse of the rich antique chairs, sofas, and tables, as well as Persian carpets and details that perfectly complemented the colonial elegance. To the right, she could glimpse the dining room, with armoires of the finest porcelain, crystal, and silver. A full library was filled with tomes that reached the high-beamed ceilings. This was a place to lose one’s self. To escape every problem left back in the real world.

  “Charley?” she heard coming from the conversation area behind her.

&
nbsp; The voice sounded familiar, and she bristled. Slowly, she turned to see the last people she had expected to run into in South Africa: John and Marlena.

  ***

  John and Marlena were thunderstruck, particularly Marlena.

  “Is it weird to ask what you’re doing here?” John asked casually as Charley approached.

  “Is it weird to ask what you’re doing here?” Charley responded with a wry smile. They were all trying to be as casual as possible, but the situation was awkward. Marlena and John had reached out to her with the Christmas gift, and she’d not yet responded.

  “We were both restless and have friends in Hoedspruit, actually. Where you landed, I’d guess?” he said, trying to clarify.

  “Where’d you land?” Charley asked, surprised.

  “There’s a private landing strip here,” John answered. “We jetted in this morning.”

  “Excuse me, Mr. Black—Dr. Evans,” one of the staff interrupted. “Your ride is ready.”

  The Rovers were now empty, and one was available for them as the production crew assembled in the nearby lobby.

  “Our friends run one of the medical clinics in town,” John explained. “Marlena’s volunteered there. We’re headed there now.”

  “I’m here working,” Charley said, trying to explain.

  “On the photo shoot?” John asked. “Impressive. We hear it’s a big one.”

  Charley nodded. She was about to apologize for not calling, but suddenly Vince was right behind her, yelling, “Let’s get a move on!”

  “Yes, Mr. Castle.” She blanched.

  “We need to get going,” he instructed. “Vince Castle, hello,” he said, extending his hand to John.

  “John Black,” John said, firmly shaking Vince’s hand. “And my wife, Marlena Evans.”

  “You all know each other?” Vince realized.

  “It’s a long story,” Charley interrupted. “We’ve got a busy shooting schedule. We’re here for a photo shoot. But we’ll catch up if there’s time,” she said to John and Marlena.

  “Maybe at dinner,” John answered. “Doc?”

  “Yes, dinner.”

  “Lovely to see you, Charley,” was all Marlena could muster, and she joined John on the way to their transportation.

  “Did she ever model?” Vince asked Charley as he watched Marlena go. “She has beautiful bone structure.”

  “Yes, she does,” Charley answered.

  “Let’s get to our suite,” Vince said.

  “Of course.”

  Charley was so shaken by the unexpected encounter with her biological parents on the bottom of the world that what he said took a moment to sink in.

  “Our suite?” she said, stopping in her tracks.

  “Kevin, my assistant, and I always shared a suite so he could keep on top of me.” He grinned. “You can handle that, can’t you?” he called back to her as he exited.

  “I can handle anything,” she answered.

  And I’ll sleep in the bathtub if I have to.

  John slipped his arm around Marlena as the air-conditioned van carried them toward Tom-Ali. Her expression was a mixture of nerves and elation.

  “You okay, Doc?” John asked gently.

  “I can’t believe Charley is here, too. How do things like this happen?” Marlena questioned.

  “Are you sorry it did?” John replied.

  “Honestly, I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Charley has been through so much in the last year. Finding out her father destroyed so many lives with his greed and lying. Her mother being poisoned and being in the car with her when she died.” The reminder made Marlena shudder. “Sometimes I think of how Charley could have died in that accident, too…”

  “And we’d never have known about her,” John said in agreement.

  “I feel as responsible for reaching out to her as I do for leaving her alone,” Marlena said, her voice choking. “Everyone assumes psychiatrists have all the answers. But that’s when we’re not emotionally involved, and that’s not now.”

  “We’re all human,” John said. “Even my gorgeous you.”

  There was a silence as she leaned against him.

  “You know how much I’ve been wanting some resolution. Truly, John, did you know she’d be here?”

  “Doc, how would I have known?” he said sincerely. “I made a few calls yesterday, and this was the only luxury game farm within driving distance of Hoedspruit that had any space. Because of a photo shoot,” he added with emphasis. “They promised me it wouldn’t be intrusive…and I figured we’d be spending plenty of ‘us’ time in our amazingly sexy room, so…here we are. Coincidence or fate. I guess that’s the real question.”

  “Of all the places in the world,” Marlena said, forcing a smile.

  They drove in silence the rest of the trip, resting in the comfort of each other’s touch and taking in the glory that surrounded them. They were both a jumble of emotions and thought—excitement, confusion, anticipation, and fear.

  ***

  Hoedspruit had grown since Marlena had last been there, with an added smattering of shops, art galleries, and bars and restaurants. But it was still reminiscent of the small towns so many Americans had once called home. Salem had never been this small or this remote, but something about the friendliness of the people reminded Marlena of the Midwest.

  Then she saw Kayla and felt completely at home.

  Kayla was standing outside the clinic with several young ebony girls when the Royal Londolani van drove in. She kissed each of the girls warmly on the cheek, and they trotted barefoot down the road before she headed for her friends.

  “Steve,” she called out excitedly. “They’re here!”

  They had not seen one another for nearly three years, and the foursome embraced each other warmly.

  “So great to see you guys,” Kayla said, breaking into her classic bright smile. She and Marlena hugged tightly.

  “So much has changed.” Marlena smiled. “Except the clinic,” she added, unaware of the reason why.

  “So this is it,” John said, nodding. “I’ve heard amazing things about the place.”

  “We’re a bit rustic at the moment, but we’re getting a complete overhaul in the next few months,” Kayla said with a hint of apology. “So the air conditioner’s a bit woofy. But come in, come in. And Bill doesn’t know you’re here.”

  Cornelius had been replacing meds in a locked cabinet and was startled when the four of them entered.

  “Cornelius, these are two of our dearest friends from home,” Kayla said enthusiastically. “Marlena Evans and John Black.”

  Cornelius quickly wiped his hands and extended one to John. “Very pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said.

  John shook his hand firmly.

  “Very nice to meet you,” Cornelius said, taking Marlena’s hand and tipping his head with a smile.

  “Bill about done back there?” Patch asked.

  “Just about,” Cornelius answered.

  “It is still blazing hot out there.” Kayla sighed. “Would you like some iced tea while we wait?”

  “Sounds good,” John said, smiling.

  “Four glasses comin’ up,” Patch offered as he moved to the counter.

  “Let me get ’em,” Cornelius insisted. “You talk with your friends.”

  While Cornelius took down the tumblers from the shelf and poured them each a drink, Kayla studied Marlena.

  “Want to tell me what’s going on?” she asked.

  Marlena and John exchanged glances.

  “What, are you psychic now?” John questioned, raising his eyebrow.

  “Maybe it’s spending so much time down here,” Kayla answered. “There’s a lot of mystical energy around us,” she added as she swirled her hands in the air. “Besides, I know that when someon
e’s blinking a lot, it means something. And you, Marlena, were blinking…”

  “Charley is at the Royal Londolani on a photo shoot,” Marlena admitted. “John said ‘coincidence or fate,’ and there you go.”

  Kayla was stunned. She was one of the few people Marlena had confided in about the discovery that Charley was her and John’s daughter.

  “Well, that does it,” Bill was heard saying as he exited the exam room. He was walking out with a forty-year-old African farmworker whose arm was in a sling. “Tell him no heavy lifting…” he said to Beauty. Then he stopped in his tracks. “I must be dreaming!”

  “Hi, Bill,” Marlena said warmly.

  “When, what, how…?” he laughed. He was truly thrilled to see Marlena. He had known her since she’d just graduated from med school and was brought in to counsel distraught Laura, the woman who eventually became Bill’s wife.

  “It was all very last minute,” Marlena said. “Do you know John?”

  “Just by reputation,” Bill answered. On the few trips he’d taken back to Salem in the last twenty years, they’d never met. He took John’s hand. “This is just, well, unbelievable.” He turned to Beauty and the patient who were totally confused. “In two weeks I want to see you,” he told the patient and held up two fingers.

  “Thank you…Dr. Bill,” the man said in broken English. “Thank you.”

  “And thank you, Beauty,” Kayla added. “We’ll see you day after tomorrow?”

  “Yes, most surely,” Beauty nodded. Then she headed out the door.

  “He’s not doing so hot, is he?” John said.

  “Forty years old and ravaged by weather and HIV,” Bill explained. “Not a bad life span around here.” Realizing how that sounded, he shook off the reality of it all.

  “You like something cool?” Cornelius asked.

  “Yeah, thanks,” he answered as Cornelius got a tumbler from the high shelf and poured Bill a long one. “Any chance of our getting dinner?”

  John piped in. “We’re pretty exhausted, but we thought we’d catch the five-thirty game ride at Londolani. I know Doc wants to spend as much time here as she can in the afternoons, though.”

 

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