‘Do you still want to live here?’
‘In Twin Palms?’
‘Very funny. You’re welcome to live with me, boetie, but I mean Lüderitz.’
‘No.’ It was a difficult word tonight.
‘Windhoek has certainly had an effect on you. I thought I was going to lose you to Jo’burg, if I’m honest. But if you move to Windhoek at least we’ll still be in the same country.’
At Chesley’s office on Wednesday his assistant told me that she now expected him back on Friday.
‘What’s going on?’ I snapped. ‘I’m twiddling my thumbs in Lüderitz when I should be interviewing people up north.’
‘Mr Archipelago is very busy at head office.’
‘I left messages on his cell but he’s not getting back to me.’
She shrugged: nothing she could do about that.
‘Can you at least tell him I need to speak to him,’ I insisted.
‘Okey-dokey.’
‘I don’t know why on earth we can’t just talk over the phone.’
‘He says he wants to see you. In the same room together.’
I apologised for my overreaction.
‘Think nothing of it,’ she said although her face told a different story. ‘Now did you bring that invoice with you?’
‘Sorry, I forgot.’ I couldn’t shake the premonition that Chesley was about to fire me. I was sure this woman wouldn’t tell me even if she knew.
‘He’ll be here Friday morning?’ I said. ‘Promise?’
‘That’s what he said. But let me check later today and I’ll call you.’
I thanked her, and was about to leave when it occurred to me to ask for a copy of Chesley’s next interview list.
She hesitated. ‘I don’t know …’
‘Has he confirmed it yet?’
‘Yes.’
‘When you speak to him today, please find out when I can see the latest one because I’d like to look at it prior to our meeting.’
My request was easy enough.
‘Of course.’
At a loss about what to do next, the Herero interviews seeming to slip away from me, I decided I may as well resuscitate my documentary about Will.
—————
Sixten gulped water as he surveyed the knee-deep channel dug into Harmony’s hard earth. He’d pinned a T-shirt to the back of his hat to shield his neck and shoulders from the morning sun. He waved when he saw me filming from my bakkie.
‘Can you see it?’ he called to me. With his foot on his spade, he cut into the dry land. ‘Can you see how beautiful this is?’
Friendly questions, but seemingly asked from a parallel universe.
Amanda approached as I entered the dining room. It had been freshly painted and a second fluorescent light attached to its ceiling.
‘I didn’t recognise you without a camera pressed against your face,’ she said.
‘Hello, Amanda,’ I said. ‘Nice to see you too. Is Will around?’
‘No.’
‘Any idea when he’ll be back?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine.’
‘He wants me to shadow someone.’
‘Who?’
‘I don’t know. Someone, anyone.’
‘When did he say that?’
‘My sister passed his message on to me. He spoke to her.’
No reaction, but there was still time.
‘Freddie!’ She called over a man with a bucket of detergents slung over his shoulder like a rucksack. He’d come walking out the kitchen, and made his way somewhat reluctantly to Amanda.
She spoke so that only he could hear her.
‘Henry, you can follow Freddie,’ she told me at the end of their exchange. ‘Just don’t get in his way.’
‘I’m late,’ the man whispered as I followed him upstairs, ‘so maybe it’s better that we don’t talk.’
Once we were safely away from Amanda, I told him to ignore my camera and to work as usual.
‘I’m normally a lot faster than this,’ he said as he began cleaning the showers. He didn’t say anything more until he was ready to send a man I didn’t recognise to call Amanda. He wiped a small mirror with his sleeve while we waited.
Amanda was quick about inspecting Freddie’s work. She nudged my camera aside with the back of her hand and told me not to film her. After a cursory glance at the bathrooms, she said he must clean the basins again. Only after she left us – Freddie still apologising – did I lift up my camera.
‘Someone keeps washing their hair in here,’ he said with a sigh.
During Amanda’s subsequent inspection, I made a show of busying myself in the corridor. I pretended to examine a rough painting of a door on the nearby wall in order to record audio undetected.
When he came to find me, Freddie explained how the trompe l’œil marked where the walkway would one day link Harmony to its new wing. Sixten’s trench was the extension’s foundation.
He greeted a woman sitting upright on her mattress with a floral scarf tied around her head as he went to clean the communal bedrooms. I ceased shooting because there was a limit to the housework I’d need. Only when I assured him that my camera was off did Freddie tell me how he’d come to Harmony after his wife died. And how he’d never worked this hard in his life. When I asked if he changed his tasks every two hours, in line with Will’s rule, Freddie explained that as a volunteer, he had to work until each allotted job was complete. Taking his cue from Amanda, he ceased speaking when I lifted my camera, but I’d nevertheless recorded his every word.
I plugged my battery recharger into Harmony’s mains while we ate lunch downstairs.
Freddie introduced me to a dozen sunburnt volunteers whose names I couldn’t keep track of, and who’d spent all morning trying to get the wind turbine to work. They assured me they loved Harmony, and some even thanked me for filming today. There was no mention of Will.
Until Sixten joined us, our lunchtime conversation didn’t venture beyond the polite chatter reserved for mixed company. But the Scandinavian wanted to tell me about deep-Atlantic jellyfish. How he was searching their DNA for evidence of extraterrestrial ancestors that hitched rides on alien spacecrafts. The same aliens that apparently triggered Earth’s Cambrian explosion by mating with terrestrial jellies to survive. Sixten was close to deciphering clues in present-day species that pointed to the stowaways. My only wish was that I’d had my camera to hand.
I asked about the woman I’d seen in bed upstairs, and they explained that Amanda was caring for her.
‘Her doctors don’t listen to her,’ Sixten said, ‘but Amanda does. That lady is a key partner.’ By which I assumed the woman had invested here. ‘We’re purging her toxins so that she becomes a strong member of our community,’ he added without any irony. I couldn’t decide if Sixten was in on the game, or if he believed everything he said.
I asked Freddie if he’d mind showing me his room after lunch.
‘Us volunteers stay in town,’ he said. ‘I share a room out there with friends.’
Sixten interjected: ‘We’re full, which is why we need our extension. We get new arrivals every week and Amanda says that everyone must have an equal chance of joining us. Will calls it “probation”. At the end of the month, if there’s enough space, Will and Amanda hope to invite one volunteer to become a permanent member of Harmony’s family. Isn’t that amazing?’
‘And that person will live here,’ Freddie said.
‘What happens to volunteers who aren’t lucky?’
‘Probation,’ they all said.
‘And you try again next month?’
‘That’s the way it works,’ Sixten said. ‘Volunteers must sort out their own accommodation and living expenses because Harmony doesn’t have the funds.’ He quickly added, ‘Which makes sense.’ It was the first time anyone referred to money. ‘We want people who believe in Harmony. Because it isn’t for everyone. There are pressures and demands …’
Freddie nodded. ‘Will
says we must experience Harmony before committing ourselves.’ Hope lit his smile.
‘This place isn’t an escape from the world,’ Sixten went on. ‘If you join us, your problems won’t magically disappear. And Will and Amanda aren’t scared of turning people away who don’t fit in. Will hates doing it, but we can’t afford to carry freeloaders.’ His words carried a warning. ‘We all agree that we must earn our keep. Like I say: Harmony isn’t for everyone.’
‘I assume that some volunteers have nowhere else to go?’ I said.
‘It’s difficult,’ they agreed.
‘Especially for Will and Amanda,’ Sixten said.
‘Will and Amanda,’ was the echo.
Without meaning to put him on the spot, I had a question for Freddie: ‘What will you do if Harmony doesn’t have enough space at the end of the month?’ Everyone waited for the poor guy.
‘I’ll make it—’ he said with great confidence.
‘He has faith,’ Sixten confirmed.
‘I must have faith,’ Freddie said. ‘I’m not rich. I don’t have anything to offer Harmony apart from what I can do with these.’ He held up both hands.
Amanda found me after the meal. At first I presumed she had a message from Will, but she wanted to know how much longer I’d be visiting today. Keanu wandered into the building while she was talking.
‘Why didn’t anyone call me for lunch?’ he interrupted.
‘You’re late,’ Amanda said without looking at him. ‘Kitchen can’t wait for everyone.’
‘But you know that my watch was stolen. No one called me.’ He’d been digging foundations.
‘Everyone’s timetable is their own responsibility. Go and eat in the kitchen, but remember to clean up afterwards.’
‘This is bullshit. I’m telling Will.’
Amanda squinted at the group. ‘Freddie, you should be in the polytunnel now. You can keep filming him, Henry, as long as you don’t interfere with his work.’
On hearing this, Freddie and the others hurried off. Not wanting Keanu to think that I was allowing Amanda to push me around, blindly following her orders, I asked if there’d be a parade today.
‘We don’t have time for that if we want to get some work done around here,’ she said. ‘And Henry, please don’t charge your equipment off our grid. You’re draining our power and we can’t be running our generator just because you forgot to sort out your batteries at home.’
‘OK, I’ll bear that in mind.’
After she was safely upstairs, Keanu addressed the empty stairway: ‘You don’t have to be a bitch about it.’ And then perhaps for my benefit: ‘I dig better than anyone else. The best. Go check how the others do it. They barely scrape the surface. And how much do you want to bet they haven’t left any hot water for me to wash my hands?’ He’d kept his tone low.
‘Have you seen Will?’ I said.
‘He’s in Elizabeth Bay.’
‘Elizabeth Bay?’ The abandoned town was smaller than Kolmans, and also in the sperrgebiet. It was the arse-end of nowhere, and would take half a day to reach by land. ‘What the hell’s he doing out there?’
Keanu shrugged. ‘Will’s got so many amazing plans.’
Freddie hauled tomatoes from one end of the polytunnel to the other. I could only bear to film him in there for a few minutes before I had to push my way back through the timber door to stand in the breeze. I felt sick from the overwhelming stench of rotting plants.
I attracted Freddie’s attention through the plastic, and succeeded in beckoning him outside
‘Those vegetables are vrot,’ I said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘What do I mean? Can’t you smell it? Something’s wrong. It’s like a compost heap. Have you checked the drainage?’
He stuttered in an attempt to answer.
‘I’m not blaming you,’ I said. ‘It’s not your fault, Freddie, and I’m not expecting you to know what’s happening, but someone needs to have a look at these tomatoes pronto or else you guys will lose your entire crop.’
‘Maybe Will can look when he gets back?’
‘Is he here today?’
Freddie wasn’t certain. ‘Let’s leave it for another day.’
His motive was clear: Amanda would seek to blame someone, and he couldn’t afford for that person to be him.
‘I’ve got work to do,’ he said.
Other than Freddie in the polytunnel, Harmony was deserted. The tune I remembered from Will’s thanksgiving ceremony played on antiquated speakers. I couldn’t see anyone else working outside, and I wondered if Freddie was tending the vegetables because I happened to be shadowing him. I zoomed in on the solar panels in case the group from lunch was cleaning them, but the array was likewise unattended. Where were they hiding?
I’d been at Harmony for six hours, but I’d shot less than ten minutes of viable material. If I’d filmed the lunchtime conversation, I’d have quadrupled that amount.
There was enough signal for me to check my phone. Along with a voicemail from Chesley’s assistant, asking me to call her, was a text from a number I didn’t recognise. I opened the message – it was from Quinty, who’d arrived at Harmony and seen my bakkie.
I returned the PA’s call; our conversation brief and to the point. Afterwards, I rang Jago.
‘I’ll visit you in a few days,’ I announced. ‘My cousin will meet me either Friday or Monday. Monday latest.’
‘So I won’t see you this weekend?’
‘Probably not. Next week at the earliest. I’ll set off after my meeting, I promise. I’m dying here.’
‘Fire him.’
This made me smile. ‘I know.’
‘I’m serious, Henry. Get rid of him. If he treats you like this, why do you work for him? I miss you.’
‘I miss you too, Jago. There’s lots to tell you. The other night sister asked if I wanted to sell my house.’
‘Really? What did you say?’
‘I said I was thinking about it.’
‘Don’t rush.’
‘That’s exactly what I said. I’m in no hurry to sell.’
‘Good. You’re not going to fire your cousin the lawyer, are you?’
‘I can’t. I’ll explain when I’m in Windhoek.’
‘Do you need the money that badly?’
‘It’s work.’
A new message vibrated my phone.
‘So if you meet this man on Friday,’ Jago clarified, ‘that means we can spend the weekend together?’
‘Yes, hopefully. But I can’t promise. In any event, I’ll definitely be with you next week.’ The prospect of travelling for nine hours in my bakkie after Chesley terminated my services didn’t fill me with joy, but I’d worry about that later.
‘I’ll plan something special,’ Jago said.
‘That sounds good.’
‘Ja, let me find us something to do. I’ll speak to my friend. I’ll call you back.’
I told Jago I loved him, and he repeated my words.
Quinty had sent another message asking if I could meet him at Harmony’s new foundations. Because Freddie was still tending the rotting tomatoes, I took the opportunity to slip away from the poor, beleaguered man. I’d be gone a few minutes and didn’t want to interrupt him.
I found Quinty hammering metal stakes into the earth, a few metres away from Sixten’s trench, to mark out the revised extension.
‘If I don’t do this,’ Quinty said when he saw me, ‘they’ll keep digging in the wrong place. I thought you might enjoy filming this. You should call your documentary Mirage.’
‘Good idea. Or Migraine.’
‘A Delusional Man.’
‘Or how about Sunstroke with an exclamation mark?’
Quinty kept choking on his laughter as he attempted to tie a piece of string to the furthest post. At last he succeeded, and looped the twine around all his steel pegs to create an extension-size piece of the Harmony puzzle. It was nowhere near the trench already cut into the ground.
>
‘See what I mean?’ he said as he stood up to stretch his back. ‘The problem is that Amanda keeps revising Will’s revisions. And then he does the same to hers. Drives me fucking crazy. No one here knows what they’re doing.’
‘Is that why you want to blow things up?’ I said. ‘Out of frustration.’
At first he didn’t grasp what I was referring to. ‘My explosions? Ah, my detonations. No, they’re on hold until I get a bit of free time. I need to repair my platform before I start disturbing the seagulls again.’
He spoke about his work in the bay before saying, ‘I guess this is when I’d be tempted to ask if you’d like to come to my place for a beer, but this time it’d really have to be a beer – if you understand my meaning – because my husband and I are attempting to patch things up.’
‘And I would normally say yes, but I should head back to poor old Freddie at the polytunnel. Not that I want to.’ This felt like as good a time as any to tell Quinty about Jago. ‘As it happens, I think I’ve met someone.’
‘Wow. I’m so glad to hear that, Henry. I’m happy for you. He’s in Windhoek?’
‘Ja, he’s a German guy who lives up there.’
‘That’s a great part of the world. Will tells me you’ve been there a lot recently. You’re making a documentary, I believe?’
‘Word travels fast.’ I felt a need to confide in him. ‘Actually, I’ve been interviewing people.’
‘Interviews? I thought Will said something about Bushman paintings.’
Although I hardly knew Quinty, I felt close enough to him, especially after our tryst, to believe that he’d keep whatever I told him under his hat. If I decided to remain in Lüderitz, he was one of the few people here I could imagine socialising with. I explained about the German concentration camps and my work for Chesley as best I could. Although I found myself wanting to tell him about Ouma Gendredi’s testimony, at the last moment I decided not to. Talking about it felt sacrilegious. My admissions gave me something akin to relief, but didn’t unburden me.
‘Jesus,’ he said when I finished.
‘But this week I’m stuck down here waiting for Chesley with nothing to do. I’m too distracted to concentrate on my prison documentary.’
‘But you’re clearly doing something out here?’
At the Edge of the Desert Page 16