Does it Hurt to Die

by Anderson, Paul G

  Gloria interrupted his thoughts with coffee and explained that she and her husband, Gerhard, had brought the farm from Christian’s grandmother shortly after his grandfather had died.

  ‘We haven’t changed much at all since your grandfather and grandmother lived here, just a little bit of painting here and there. The timing of your arrival is interesting because we had two men here almost a week ago; from a department we had heard very little about, internal affairs, but who said that they had permission to look for articles of historic interest. They thought that your grandfather may have stored them on the farm somewhere.’

  ‘Did they find anything?’ said Christian, raising his eyebrows and looking at Isabella and Marais.

  ‘I’m not sure, but they went through everything in the shed and then looked underneath the house, saying they might have to come back once they checked their records. The interesting thing was that they had broad Afrikaans accents, but I couldn’t quite place where they were from, probably the Bloemfontein area. We’ve been meaning to phone the department to try to find out a bit more information on what they were looking for.’

  As they finished their coffee, Christian made a gesture to take the cups to the sink. Gloria motioned to him to leave them where they were, and shortly after he sat down again, the maid came and collected all their dishes. He thought that some things had changed little in twenty years, although now at least there was no feeling of suppression. They thanked Gloria for the coffee and asked her if she would mind if they looked around.

  ‘No, not at all—I’ll come with you and show you the changes we’ve made that Gerhard and I are particularly proud of.’

  As they headed for the door Marais, who had been very quiet since Christian related the story of his father’s twenty-first, turned to Gloria and asked, ‘Were there any records there when you took over?’

  ‘Only farm records, which detailed the crops and plantings and some financial records.’

  ‘Would you mind if I had a look at those records?’

  ‘No, by all means have a look, but I think if there’d been anything of historic importance, those people who were here last week would’ve found something; they seemed to be very thorough,’ said Gloria.

  ‘You two go on, and I’ll catch you up once I’ve had a look through the shed’s office,’ said Marais.

  Isabella, Gloria and Christian continued the walk down to where the workers’ houses were. Gloria explained that they were a work in progress and that when they had taken over, many of the workers had left and the buildings had become uninhabitable. They had been replastered and painted, and, as Christian and Isabella approached, they could see the workers’ houses had glass windows and plastered walls. They had also been painted white and looked fresh and clean.

  Around all the houses were small gardens, with rows of petunias and anemones providing vibrant splashes of colour. Children ran round in the common courtyard, and Gloria explained that these were pre-schoolers and that one of the mothers taught them in a small hall that they had constructed. As she talked to some of the mothers who came out to greet them, she told them who Christian was and asked if any of them knew his grandfather. After a brief discussion in Afrikaans, she told Christian that none of them did, as none of them had been living on the farm for longer than ten years.

  As Christian looked around Isabella asked him what he was feeling. ‘I don’t know, but there is a sense of part of me in this place. That’s the best that I can explain it.’

  He remembered his mother’s story and how it must have been in this courtyard somewhere that the worker was killed. As he studied the ground where he imagined the worker may have lain, Marais ambled down the path to join them.

  ‘Did you find anything interesting in the office, Marais?’

  ‘No, there were some financial records but no history of any regular payments.’

  ‘Well, I guess that was to be expected, but it’s still disappointing. Perhaps if you talk to some of the mothers here they might be able to give you a lead or two,’ suggested Isabella.

  Gloria spoke to one of the mothers as Marais sat down on one of the little bankies and took off his shoes. He then showed his toes to one of the mothers. Christian could see the small web between the first and second toe that Marais had described on the plane. He watched as all the mothers shook their head in turn. Despite the animated chatter, he could sense Marais’ disappointment.

  They thanked the mothers and walked back along the lane to the old farmhouse. Part way along the track, Gerhard, Gloria’s husband, joined them and greeted them enthusiastically in English. After introductions and explanations, he went on very quickly to inform Christian that by the time they had taken over the farm from his grandmother, it had been very run down. After his grandfather had died, his grandmother seemed to lose interest and was very happy to sell the farm.

  ‘We had taken it over shortly after the change of white government, and it had initially been hard to attract farm workers, as many had migrated to the cities expecting changes and new accommodation from a black government. It had taken a few years for them to come to the understanding that a black government was not a panacea for all of South Africa’s problems. Many had become disillusioned with what they thought democracy would bring and had gradually drifted back to their old jobs on the farms. We had improved the workers’ accommodation and so when they returned; it was to better conditions than the cities offered.’

  ‘Quite a change from my grandfather’s time then,’ said Christian.

  ‘That’s right,’ said Gerhard. ‘No longer is the farmer the dictator/employer. We now have a workers’ committee, which deals with any problems on the farm. Amongst the workers, we’ve promoted and instituted savings programmes as well as establishing a preschool for the children.’

  ‘Maybe your father would’ve stayed on the farm if he’d known that this was going to be a development in the future,’ said Isabella, looking at Christian.

  ‘I think he’d have been astounded if he could’ve overcome his prejudices, as improving the conditions and making life more enjoyable for the workers has had a hugely positive impact on productivity; the grape harvest was successfully finished on time for the last six years,’ said Gerhard.

  ‘But you’re an Afrikaner,’ said Christian, amazed. ‘How did you overcome all those years of indoctrination that my mother told me about?’

  Gerhard turned towards Gloria and smiled. ‘She convinced me that integration could be successful if you treated the workers more like human beings than slaves.’

  ‘It took some doing, I can tell you,’ said Gloria.

  ‘Well, I can see that that works, and works well,’ said Christian. ‘Perhaps this is where, ironically, the rainbow nation begins.’

  Once back at the farm house Christian thanked Gloria and Gerhard for allowing them to have a look around as Isabella and Marais both said goodbye.

  ‘Any time,’ said Gerhard. ‘You would be most welcome to come back. Drive safely, and Totsiens.’

  ‘Goodbye,’ shouted Christian through the window of the BMW as they turned towards the gate at the end of the driveway.

  They drove back down the long, winding and dusty road slightly reflecting on what they had seen. Christian was about to turn on to the freeway back to Cape Town when he remembered Marais in the back.

  ‘It’s a shame that you didn’t find anything in the shed or office,’ said Christian.

  ‘There were many documents, and some financial records that detailed payments, but all the financial transactions were in Afrikaans and with Standard Bank and there was no consistent payments to any orphanage. So no further ahead, I think.’ After a pause, he said, ‘Would you mind dropping me back in Stellenbosch, as some of the workers were going to ask around to see if anyone knew of anyone else with a foot defect like mine. I gave them an address at the Lanzerac; where we had lunch, and I’ll stay there for a few days and perhaps explore some of the vineyards.’

  Christian t
ook the left turn back into Stellenbosch and dropped Marais back at the Lanzerac hotel.

  ‘Thank you very much for taking me with you, Christian,’ said Marais as he closed the car door.

  ‘OK, let’s all meet up in a few days in Cape Town,’ said Christian.

  He waved out the window as he turned towards Cape Town, remembering Mike and Sian’s instructions to be back before dark. As they drove Isabella chatted about the day and how it was another small piece of a jigsaw that he now had about his father.

  ‘Strange, don’t you think, that there were two men there looking for something?’

  ‘Historical societies do that all the time, Christian.’

  ‘But Gloria said they were from a government department.’

  Isabella looked at him, sighed and said by way of diversion, ‘So, are you still taking me out tomorrow night having spent a day with me?’

  ‘Of course. Do you still want to go with me?’ Christian replied, taking his eyes off the road briefly to judge her reaction. He saw that she raised her eyebrows in a slightly mocking way, her grin suggesting that his company had been delightful.

  Christian smiled at the endorsement and reached down to flick on the headlights as they approached Cape Town. As he did so he noticed in the rear vision mirror a car that he had thought had been following them all the way from Stellenbosch. It was a white Toyota in which he could just make out two people. He chose not to say anything to Isabella in case she thought he was being a paranoid Australian. However, the thought did run through his mind that, while there were many Toyotas in South Africa, it was curious that so many were painted white. Perhaps it was some kind of strange throwback car metaphor from apartheid days.

  As they drove into Isabella’s, Nadine came out to greet them. ‘So, did you two have fun?’ she said as they both got out of the car.

  ‘Great fun, Mum, he even paid for lunch again,’ she said, throwing back her head before smiling in Christian’s direction.

  ‘Nothing quite like a man with money to impress my daughter,’ said Nadine as she put her arm around her daughter and walked up the stairs.

  ‘I hear we’re also going to see you tomorrow, Christian?’

  ‘Yes, we’re going out to dinner.’

  ‘Well, make sure this daughter of mine pays her way.’

  Christian said goodbye, and as he drove out of a driveway Isabella stood on the stoep and blew him a kiss, which he had a strong feeling was going to interfere with his sleep patterns again. On leaving the driveway, he immediately turned left and headed towards Mike and Sian’s, about twenty minutes away. Rounding the corner into their street, he pressed the remote to the gate as he got within range. As the gate closed behind him, he again noticed a white car drive past, but as it was getting dark, he could not be certain that it was the Toyota he had seen on the way back from Stellenbosch. It did leave him with an uneasy feeling. Perhaps this is what South Africa did to you, he thought. The constant need to be aware about personal violence creates paranoia.

  Mike and Sian were sitting in the main room and demanded a full debrief. They had kept supper for him, Ruby having cooked roast beef and delicious garlic gravy to go with it. As he sat at the table, Mike looked at him again with a mischievous grin and said, ‘So tell me, which had the greater impact, your grandfather’s farm or a day with Isabella?’

  ‘It would serve you right if he told you nothing,’ said Sian, acting as Christian’s wingman.

  ‘They were both important in their own ways,’ said Christian. ‘Seeing where my father grew up made me feel a little closer to him and the memory a bit more real, and, of course, having someone like Isabella there just enhanced the view.’

  ‘Mmmmmmm,’ said Mike, ‘very good answer. I can see that you’ve got your equilibrium back, which you’re going to need if you continue to find out things about your father and share the company of that young woman.’

  ‘There was something that was a bit strange, though, when we were at the farm. Mrs Du Toit mentioned that there had been people there in the last few weeks from some government department looking for articles of historic value. They evidently went through all of my grandfather’s old records, very thoroughly, and then left. Moreover, I don’t know whether I’m imagining anything, but I had the sensation on the way back from Stellenbosch that there was a white Toyota that was following us. And there was a strange conversation with two men at lunch. Isabella said I was just being paranoid.’

  ‘I think a little bit of paranoia is a healthy thing in South Africa,’ said Sian.

  As Christian listened to the response, he looked up and saw the concerned look that Mike had given Sian and wondered if there was something Mike was not telling him. He was about to say something to Mike when Sian spoke again.

  ‘When you’ve finished eating, just leave your plate and Ruby will clear up. We’ll see you for breakfast. I’ve organised for Nadine, Sibokwe and Isabella to come here for lunch tomorrow. As you’ll remember, we shared the care of Sibokwe before and after his transplant until his mother, Kathleena, came to live in Cape Town, so it’ll be like a family reunion and you’ll see that Isabella is a little bit like a sister to him.’

  Chapter 23

  Mike and Sian were already up, and as Christian joined them, Mike put down the newspaper he had been reading.

  ‘Nadine phoned and said that she and Isabella were thrilled to be coming, and so I thought we’d just have salad and cold meats for lunch, nothing too formal so that everyone can chat to each other,’ said Sian.

  ‘Oh, yes, while I remember. Your mother phoned last night and asked if you’d Skype her this morning; she’s dying to catch up on all the news,’ said Mike, looking at Christian with a twinkle in his eye, before adding, ‘I wonder whether you’re going to tell her about Isabella?’

  ‘Stop teasing him, Mike.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Sian. I’m getting used to it and quite enjoy being paid out a little. It’s a typically Australian pastime.’

  As he finished his coffee, he wondered about how much he should tell his mother. Then he thought, knowing her intuition, she would properly sense something was happening with Isabella; that is, if Mike had not already told her.

  ‘Hi, Mum,’ said Christian as the Skype dialled through to Renata. ‘It’s really nice to see you.’

  ‘Hi, honey. You’re looking really well. It must be all that good South African food that Mike and Sian are feeding you! How is the search for information going, and how did you find the old Groote Schuur Hospital, where your father used to work?’

  ‘It was fantastic, Mum; I met Nadine, Dad’s ex-scrub nurse and research coordinator. She showed me around some of the hospital and then introduced me to her daughter, Isabella. She’s really gorgeous.’

  ‘Are you talking about the mother or the daughter, Christian?’

  ‘Very funny. I was talking about Isabella; she’s smart, good-looking and great company and has been helping me explore some of the areas where you and Dad went to in Stellenbosch and Paarl.’

  ‘Well, don’t get too involved. You’re due to come back here and start university, don’t forget.’

  Christian noticed his mother’s mood had changed when he began talking to her about Isabella and Nadine. It was almost as if there was something that she was concerned about that involved them both. Perhaps, he thought, it is just that he is reminding her of things that were also in her past and that he should provide just some of the details. He decided to change the subject.

  ‘Mum, Mike and Sian have organised for Sibokwe to come to lunch today, so that’s going to be exciting to meet one of Dad’s patients. And then I think we’re going to go to the university where he works and to visit his mother in one of the townships.’

  ‘OK, honey. It sounds like you’re also having some fun. Take care and give my regards to Mike and Sian; I’ll talk to them later.’

  As Christian clicked off the Skype, Mike walked in. ‘Everything OK at home?’ he said.

  ‘Ev
erything seems fine. Mum sends her regards and thanks and says you must be feeding me really well,’ said Christian. ‘But she seemed a little strange when I mentioned Nadine and Isabella. She looked a little shocked. Is there something that I don’t know?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so. Perhaps she’s just tired, and it’s late at night there in Australia,’ said Mike, deciding that he would not tell Christian about the rumours of his father and Nadine. After all, they were only rumours.

  Christian looked at the lunch that Ruby had carefully organised. He wondered where all the food had come from that nearly covered the table, certain that if he lived with Mike and Sian that he would be twice the size he was at the moment. As he considered sneaking a piece of ham he heard the security gate lift and saw Nadine’s car enter, driven by Isabella. He waved and made his way to the front steps that led to the stoep.

  ‘Hi, Nadine. Hi, Issy,’ he called from the top of the stairs.

  ‘So, no opening the car door for a lady?’ teased Isabella as she got out of the car and stared at him with a mock grin.

  ‘Take no notice of her, Christian. She’s been in this kind of mood since you arrived. I suspect she might be coming down with some kind of fever,’ said Nadine, glancing disapprovingly at her daughter.

  As Mike and Sian joined him at the top of the stairs, another car pulled up at the security gate, which Mike then opened with the remote controller.

  ‘That’ll be Sibokwe,’ said Mike, walking down the stairs and pointing at the red Honda emerging from behind the security gates to park behind Nadine’s car. Christian watched as Sibokwe emerged from the car to be greeted with one of Mike’s special hugs. Mike put his arm around him, and they both quickly closed the gap to Isabella and Nadine at the foot of the stairs.

  ‘Hi, Issy, Nadine,’ said Sibokwe, giving them both a kiss on the cheek and getting a playful dig in the ribs from Isabella in return.