by Bob Bidecant
1.13
‘Nanuk, where are they?’ bellowed Dirty Hands. Nanuk ran into the garden nervously knocking into a plant stand in his haste.
‘Where are who Sir?’ he asked.
‘Where are my cats, you idiot, I have looked everywhere, they are not here.’
‘I have no idea Sir I will call the staff immediately to search for them.’ The entire staff searched the house and gardens for the next hour. Nanuk finally told the staff to return to the kitchen and went to see Dirty Hands.
‘The cats are nowhere to be found, Sir.’ Dirty Hands screamed at him for several minutes and then kicked him in the behind. Nanuk returned to the kitchen and screamed at the staff.
Three days later the gardener called Nanuk to the vegetable patch.
‘I noticed a strange smell when I was turning the ground over to plant some tomatoes.’ He pointed to the newly broken earth at his feet. There in a shallow grave were the dead bodies of two Persian cats.
‘Wrap them up, throw them on the bonfire and don’t tell anybody about this.’
He returned to the kitchen pondering if he should tell Dirty Hands when he returned. A movement caught his eye and he looked around to see Jaak sitting on a stool at the table eating bread. He stared at the boy. He did not like him, there was something in the boy’s eyes that didn’t seem right.
Jaak stared back at him impassively.
‘You little fuck, don’t look at me or I will take my strap to you.’
‘You touch the boy and it will be you getting the strap from Dirty Hands.’ Said the cook as she placed a large pot on the table. Nanuk stood up and walked out seething with anger at the whole situation. As he neared the door he heard a strange sound, he turned and looked at Jaak.
‘Meow.’ Called Jaak.
Part Two. South Africa. January 1888.