Sweet Roots and Honey

by Gwen Westwood

  What was she doing here? She thought. She must have been mad to come. Tomorrow she hoped she would think it had been worthwhile, but now, with the sun beating upon her head and her feet burning so painfully that they seemed twice their usual size, she felt that all she needed was to be out of this and in some place that was shady and cool, and if she ever got to it she would never move again. She fixed her eyes on to the trail of footsteps in front of her. This way she could avoid seeing the cruel light. There was a shout from Toma and she looked up. A vehicle was coming towards them, the smaller one from the camp. Perry felt so relieved that she could have burst into tears. When it drew alongside it stopped and Fabian jumped out, followed by Samgau. She almost collapsed as he held her by the shoulders.

  'Perry! Good God, girl, whatever made you do a thing like this? You must have been crazy to undertake such an expedition on your own!'

  'I... I... oh, Fabian!' She wanted to cry, but the sight of his angry face prevented her. She smiled instead, trying to appear without a care in the world. 'Fabian, you will be pleased when you see the camera shots I've got. It's on cine as well, the complete record of Toma's hunt for the springbok, and I got a shot of lions making a kill.'

  'You what? Oh, Perry, you crazy girl! I don't know whether I should kiss you or kill you.' Suiting action to his words, he took her in his arms and she felt the strength and hardness of his mouth upon hers. 'You were quite determined to have your own way about Toma and Nusi, weren't you? So you send us all half mad with anxiety wondering what on earth you've got up to. I tell you Mark is biting his nails back there at the camp. I only persuaded him to stay because I wanted to have room to bring you all back.'

  Why need he mention Mark now? She had forgotten all about Mark as Fabian held her in his arms. That kiss ... it had consolidated all the feelings that she had been experiencing during the last few confusing days. Why couldn't he feel the same?

  It was heavenly to have a cool shower and get into fresh clothes. Just for once to improve her morale she would wear the silk printed blouse and the blue slacks and look a little more glamorous than usual. But first she must rest; she lay in the green tent with little Topaz dozing at her side and thought about the day and the fact that she had achieved her object both about getting the film and about solving their problem for Toma and Nusi. She thought about Fabian. How angry he had looked when he had arrived to fetch them and how charming his smile had been when he had kissed her. But no more of that. She must be sensible.

  'You sure had Fabian in a tizzy,' said Paul, pouring out a whisky and offering her the lounging seat that he had just vacated.

  'Perhaps that was the idea,' Samantha joined in rather waspishly. 'But I thought the plan was to worry Mark, wasn't that it. Perry?'

  'Hardly,' said Perry. Something, the whisky perhaps, was making her feel a bit lightheaded and she felt she did not care what catty remarks Samantha cared to make. 'My main object was to help Toma and Nusi and to take photographs of a hunt. I'm hoping I succeeded on both issues.'

  'Quite the little girl scout, aren't you?' said Samantha. She was looking lovely, her honey-coloured hair coiled up on her head, her green eyes sparkling and her skin brown from the sunbathing that she indulged in very discreetly in the morning hours. Beside her Perry was conscious that her own fair skin had reddened in the fiery heat of this trying day, that in fact she felt like a boiled lobster.

  'How sunburned you are,' Samantha commented.

  'It was a long hot trudge back.'

  'Well, if you will make a martyr of yourself, you have to put up with a bit of discomfort.'

  Perry closed her eyes. She had thought the drink would make her feel relaxed, but her head was throbbing. She wished she could excuse herself, but Nusi arrived with the news that they were to have a dance to celebrate Toma's success at hunting and she did not want to let Fabian down a second time about the photography, for they were to see the ceremony of initiation whereby Toma was to become a man. Mark made her feel better when he came along beaming with his wide friendly smile.

  'I call that a jolly good effort on your part. Perry. You did marvellously to keep up with Toma and Nusi. None of us could have done better. Fabian must revise his ideas about the usefulness of women on an expedition of this kind, mustn't he?'

  After all this Perry forced herself to get through the evening. In any case, she thought, she felt better in the open air than in her little tent. She would be all right when she had had a good night's sleep, but first she must finish the photographic record. At the Bushman settlement that evening there was an air of excitement. Preparations for the dance were in full swing. The women had arrayed themselves in their finest ostrich egg jewellery and the shining beads glittered against their pale golden skin. Some way apart from the women sat Toma.

  'Come on,' said Fabian to Perry. 'I've spoken to them about the film and they'll allow you to witness this ceremony because you were instrumental in Toma's success.'

  He hurried her over to where Toma sat immobile and she just managed to adjust her camera as two of the others, Natamu and the old man, approached. They had painted their faces with a paste made from a mixture of charcoal and animal fat and looked very fierce and wild. Natamu had a knife in his hand and, as the camera whirred, he made a cut in Toma's forehead and rubbed a kind of powder into it.

  'What is it?' asked Perry.

  'Good girl — I was afraid you might faint. It's a powder made from the ashes of parts of the springbok mixed with leaves from a special bush. Now, they believe, Toma will be given the buck's keen eyesight, its strength and stamina to help him in his hunting. From this time he'll be regarded as a mature man.'

  'And will he be able to marry Nusi?'

  Fabian laughed. 'Of course that's the only thing you're worrying about, isn't it? Well, I can set your mind at rest; Samgau told me ;the older people have given their consent and they'll be married straight away.'-

  'I'm so glad,' said Perry. She felt odd as if part of her real self were not there, Fabian was real enough with his teasing grey eyes, but the kiss he had given her on her return seemed to have happened long ago. He put his arm around her as he led her back to the place where the dance was to take place.

  'Poor Perry, you have had a tough day. You were: quite crazy, of course. But no harm seems to have been done, except that your beautiful skin looks a little red. Remind me to give you some sunburn lotion when we get back to camp/

  She leaned against him gratefully, more compliant to his touch than she would normally have been, but when they came back to the group of people around the dancing circle he returned her to Mark, saying, 'Look after this girl, Mark, She's a little tired, but still eager to photograph the dance.'

  While she was sitting beside Mark waiting for the dancing to begin, he took her hand and said, 'Perry, can you forgive me?'

  'Whatever for, Mark?'

  'Because we parted, because I didn't think we were suited all those years ago. I see now that you would have made any man working in the wilds an excellent wife. I was a fool. We should never have parted. You have so much pluck - I admire you tremendously…'

  'Let's not talk about it now, Mark.'

  He pressed her hand. 'No, not now, perhaps, but later. Now is not the time. I must see you alone as soon as possible,'

  Now the dancing started. They enacted the hunt as Toma had told it to them, the springboks, the lions and even the baboons. The acting was amazingly realistic. Later they danced a story about the man who first found fire. The men danced round and round in a circle pretending they were the first Bushmen setting out into the dark world to look for it. They searched the sand, looked upwards to the moon, westwards to where the sun sets. The dance went on and on so long that their pounding feet made a furrow in the ground and some of the dancers began to fall into a trance. The steady pounding of the stamping feet felt like one beat. And in her head Perry felt this beat drumming and drumming as if a hammer were beating in the very core of her brain. 'I must get away,' she th
ought, but she was tied there by her wish not to show any weakness in front of Fabian. On the far horizon there were flashes of lightning and thunder rolled in the distance. At last one man walked to the fire and taking the burning coals within his grasp scattered them far and wide. The dance was over and Perry was free to go.

  'Are you all right, Perry?' It was Mark beside her as they made their way back to the camp.

  'Yes, Why?'

  'You stumbled - I thought you were going to fall.'

  Perry put her hand to her aching head.

  'I am tired… exhausted, in fact, I'll be all right after a good night's sleep.'

  'Let me help you.':

  He put his arm around her and she felt glad of his support. And it was like this that Fabian saw them as he came up behind, walking quickly with Samantha and Paul.

  'Old acquaintance seems to be ripening,' said Samantha. 'How well did you two know each other before?'

  Perry felt she could not care about any remarks Samantha chose to make. She was too weary, too grateful for Mark's supporting arm to discard it. At the moment she did not care what anyone thought of their relationship, even Fabian as he passed them with a quizzical smile.

  'Can I ask Samantha to come and help you?' Mark asked as he brought her to the entrance of the tent.

  'No, Mark, don't worry. I'll take a couple of aspirin. I have rather a headache -1 think I was out in the sun too much today.'

  Perry slept for a little while and woke feeling worse. Now she realized with a sinking heart that she was really ill. She tossed and turned, feeling the fever growing. Her head was aching so that she longed for some release from the pain. She must try to get help. But from whom? She cringed from appealing to Samantha. She would go to Mark. Her mind was too muddled to think that she should provide herself with some protection against the cool night air as she came out of the tent clad in only a thin sleeping suit and stumbled towards the truck where she knew Mark was sleeping. She was close to the fire now and although part of her felt as if she were burning up she was cold and shivering at the same time. She paused, longing for some warmth, and a figure rose beside the dying fire and came towards her.

  'Perry, is anything wrong?'

  His face wavered before her eyes, that face that she had seen in her dreams so often. But she must not ask help from Fabian. In her muddled half delirious state she still felt she must not show him that she had made herself ill by what he had termed her crazy behaviour. She tried to smile.

  'I'm going to see Mark,' she said.

  Fabian drew back and she saw the swift frown that creased his brow. 'I see. Are you in the habit of visiting Mark at this hour? It's three o'clock.'

  'It doesn't matter. I don't think he'll mind what time it is.'

  'I'm sure he won't, but, Perry, I didn't want it to be like this for you.'

  'Like what?' She was bewildered. Her head felt as if she had an anvil inside it and someone was striking it with great slow thuds.

  'I thought if you came together again it would be with marriage in mind. Don't throw yourself away, Perry, after waiting all these years. I didn't think you were the kind of woman to hold yourself cheaply. However, I expect you'll tell me it's none of my business and that it was my fault that you parted all those years ago. I suppose you feel you must make up for lost time now.'

  His voice was hard and his smile sardonic. Through her hazy state of mind it penetrated that he thought she was going to Mark to make love to him. No, this was too much! She started to laugh.

  'Let me share the joke. Tell me what's amusing you?' asked Fabian.

  But now she had started she went on and on and found she could not stop. Great shudders shook her body as she listened to the noise that she was making that seemed to come from a stranger. Fabian strode across to her and held her to him.

  'Stop that this instant, Perry! What in heaven's name is the matter with you?' She tried to struggle from his grasp, but he held her firmly, and now she found she was weeping. 'Good God, your body is on fire! You're ill, child. Why didn't you tell me? Come to the truck. I'll rouse Mark - we must do something about this immediately.'

  She felt him lift her up competently and gently and she was aware of a great relief. Everything would be all right now. She could leave things to Fabian. And that was her last conscious thought.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  She was cool at last, cool between white sheets that smelled faintly of lemon verbena, and there was a fragrance in the room, the scent of cologne. Above her head were poles that stretched in an intricate pattern beneath a roof of thatch. Where was she, and what had happened to her little green tent? Someone was sitting at a small table, a piece of sewing in her hands, bent head covered with a white veil. Perry felt quite bewildered and yet calm and at peace.

  'Hello,' she said, her voice sounding a little faint and strange to her own ears. The person at the table put down her sewing and rose in that swift uniform motion that nuns have. She had a round rosy face and blue eyes beneath the white coif.

  'So,' she said with a guttural accent, 'you wake at last. You have been long time not knowing where you are.'

  Perry smiled faintly. She felt peaceful and relaxed. 'I still don't know. Where am I?'

  The sister came over to the bed and smoothed the coverlet that was already without a wrinkle.

  'You are at Convent of Sacred Heart on banks of lake. You were brought here because Mr. Sinclair thought it dangerous to travel to Johannesburg. You were very ill and he was worried out of his wits. So good man. You are fortunate to have friend like him.'

  'Yes.' Perry was drowsy. So Fabian had brought her here. She could not remember it. Perhaps later she would recall something of the trip, but not now. She felt at the moment that nothing mattered but the peaceful atmosphere of this little room.

  'What is your name?' she asked the nun.

  'You may call me Celeste,' said the sister, nodding her head emphatically. 'Mother Therese will be glad to hear you are speaking now. Each day there is a message by radio from Mr. Sinclair. Today she will have good news for him.'

  Each day! Perry's heart beat a little faster and she felt such a wave of happiness flowing through her that she felt Celeste must sense her joy. But she must not think this way. Of course he felt responsible for any member of the party, and she had become very ill. It was only natural that he would try to find out how she was progressing. Tears of weakness sprang into her eyes and trickled slowly down her cheeks.

  'What is this, then? We cannot have tears. You must be strong. I will go and tell Sister Dominic that you must have some chicken broth and you shall feed yourself. That will be better than a feeding cup, nein?'

  She bustled off and was back in no time at all with a pretty tray upon which was the broth, some thin toast and wafer-thin slices of chicken. Propped up on the pillows, Perry was able to look out of the window and saw to her amazement that there was a large sheet of water nearby and growing there were red and white water-lilies. As she watched a large white bird landed in graceful flight upon the water.

  'But it's all so different from the desert,' she said.

  'Not always. Can be dry here too. But we have just had good rains. They start the day you came. How Mr. Sinclair must have struggled to get through to us.'

  Perry remembered now the thunder and lightning in the distance.

  'Did they have rain in the desert too?' she asked.

  'Oh, yes, my child. And when they have rain it is as if God sent one of his miracles. Everything is, how can I say, reborn. Flowers and leaves grow where before there was plant as dead. It is a resurrection.'

  And I missed it, thought Perry regretfully. She thought sadly of the people at the camp, and most of all she thought of Fabian and of what he must think of her since she had let him down and proved what he had thought all along that it had been foolish to take a woman along to do the photography. Each day she got back some of her strength. The colour returned to her face and, sitting in the peaceful garden of the conve
nt, she regained a little of the sun tan she had lost. Although he remained in radio communication with the sisters, Fabian never once expressed a wish to speak to her and she was too shy to ask. Then, when a few days had passed and she was feeling stronger, Sister Celeste came to her and said, 'Good news. Your young man comes to fetch you tomorrow. A plane has been chartered and you will be able to go back to Johannesburg.'

  How odd of Celeste to call Fabian by such a name! 'Your young man' indeed! But how good it would be to see him. The expedition must be over and they would be returning home.

  She wondered how she could possibly sleep that night and decided to ask Celeste for a sleeping tablet.

  'Why in the name of God do you need one of those?' asked Celeste frankly. 'You should be able to sleep well, knowing you are being fetched and going home tomorrow. Is it excitement, perhaps? Ah, well, my dear, he seems good man, very attractive. I wish you happiness and God's blessing in the future. We shall be sorry to see you go.'

  In spite of the sleeping tablet she woke very early and getting up went to the window. She felt very much at peace, perhaps as the result of the night's sound rest, and the scene in front of her did nothing to detract from this. In the early morning light, pelicans were preening themselves on the still luminous water or landing feet first with a long wake of ripples. Flamingoes dug for their food in the wet sand, their curved beaks busy. Cormorants sat on stumps like something from a Japanese painting. The desert scene had been abruptly snatched from her and had been replaced by this other one, and for a few days she had been living in an atmosphere of peace and tranquillity, but she longed with painful desire to be back again in that harsh dry air, to hear the rustling of the restless wind in the golden grass and to wake in her small green tent hearing the cautious sounds of small night animals and knowing that on the morrow she would see Fabian.