Cry of the Firebird

by T. M. Clark

  Her business had been growing steadily along with all the other crimes in South Africa, especially in the Johannesburg region. The most significant part of her business, after weapons, were the contracts she took on to get rid of other people’s problems. One of her previous customers was now sitting opposite her, and he didn’t look happy. In fact, if he had a gun on his person, she suspected he might have pointed it at her.

  ‘Mr Mbaya, your situation was dealt with. There was an exchange of money and the problem was removed,’ said Ulwazi.

  ‘My problem didn’t go away. Now there’s somebody else who is asking questions from Kimberley; it is like these doctors never give up.’

  ‘The contract was completed. Unless you want to take out a new contract—which you will need to pay for—we have nothing to say to each other. You are aware that there is a big risk in removing two doctors who work the same job. Somebody will become suspicious, and you might get a cop on the force who cannot be bought next time. You might be creating a bigger problem for yourself. Perhaps, if you are a little bit patient, the problem will go away itself.’

  ‘I do not think being patient will help. Not this time. There is too much at stake.’

  ‘So, what are you proposing?’ asked Ulwazi.

  ‘I want a contract on the life of Dr Lily Winters.’

  CHAPTER

  26

  Kamfers Dam, Kimberley

  The hot October sun beat down mercilessly on the flamingos nesting around Kamfers Dam. The heat shimmered off the water and bounced up onto their white feathers, which in turn reflected it off, keeping them cool.

  Amahle could feel her unborn chick moving around inside the egg. Chirping, knocking, trying to break free of the hard shell that had protected it for a full moon cycle. Turning it once more with her curved beak, Amahle tapped it gently to let her baby know she wasn’t alone.

  Scanning the horizon, she looked for Msizi. She wanted him to be present when their chick entered the world. Its time was close.

  The tapping increased, and she stood on one leg, watching the baby as it used its beak to crack the shell. The baby squeaked. Amahle reassured it that she was still there. Waiting. Encouraging.

  Msizi arrived back with an exaggerated flap and walked to where their turret stuck out from the surrounding water. As long as they could keep their egg at a constant temperature, the baby would survive.

  Together they turned the egg, using their webbed feet, gently helping their baby where they could to break free of its protective shell. Eventually, it was out. A bedraggled-looking bird with thick, stubby legs, a long neck, grey-and-white feathers slick and wet, and a small triangular beak.

  Young-One’s first sounds were unique, and her parents constantly talked so that their baby would learn to recognise their calls. So that she can always distinguish her parents.

  The sun passed overhead, helping the baby’s fluff to dry. She fed from both her folks, a rich red milk made from the algae in the water of the dam, but also the DNA of her parents, as it dripped from their beaks and into her waiting mouth.

  Msizi fluffed himself up proudly, knowing now that he had the important job of protecting his chick from the hot sun in his shadow, and the hard rain that fell from the dark sky, and the lightning that zigzagged in the night.

  * * *

  Young-One rubbed her baby down against her mother’s pink feathers. Amahle fluffed up and bent her head, stroked her baby with her beak, and fed her again. Already Young-One loved early mornings, when the sun touched the water and turned it pink, almost the same colour as her flock’s feathers. She snuggled closer to Amahle and closed her eyes for a moment. Practising walking could wait. Soon, when she could stand and then walk without falling over, she would go and join the nursery, and play along the shoreline of the island with the other babies—trying to fly, testing their wings, attempting to stand on one leg. Making the small muscles stronger so that when she grew her flight feathers, they would be able to fly away, and onto the next stop on the migration route. Until then she was safe with her mum, in the warmth of her feathers surrounding her.

  Young-One heard the honk of Msizi as he returned to the nest after an early-morning foraging, and she looked out at the water. The shoreline was different; the island that her small family looked at was almost gone. Water lapped all around the turrets there, and just the tops of the nests were showing.

  Those neighbours who had not managed to build their nests higher yesterday had been covered during the night. Young-One looked closer to her. A small ripple of water lapped against the edge of her nest, too, but it was only at the base and was not about to spill inside and saturate her young feathers.

  Like all the other flamingos, she looked at the new addition of the water with a fascination. The water was rising at night, and then during the day it was dropping fast, but it gave the flamingos a small reprieve to repair their nests where they could and abandon the dead chicks where they’d been unable to stop the flow of water into their homes.

  She looked further up the water to where the humans on the shoreline stood with their fancy cameras and attempted to hide in the bushes, but Young-One could already recognise their scent. They smelled different from the freshness that was there before.

  Something unusual was happening.

  Something was definitely wrong.

  She peeked her head out of her hiding place.

  The island was now covered in water.

  She watched as her mother reinforced her turret even more, determined to keep the water out. Still, more water rippled into the dam, and the level kept rising slowly against the side of Young-One’s turret.

  The whole day the flamingos watched as the water rose further and further, while desperately reinforcing their turrets in a losing battle.

  * * *

  Early the next morning, something ran along the land area that Young-One hadn’t seen before. Its sleek body bobbed and ran quickly, its golden-red coat shimmering in the sunlight. As it got closer to the nests, parents were honking loudly, attempting to peck at it, challenging it, fluffing out their wings and their feathers, trying to intimidate the predator. It ran on, trying to scatter and scare away the adults. They had to be quick to get out of the way as it bared its sharp teeth and ran past the next nest.

  Parents were sitting on their babies to hide them, but Young-One’s father, Msizi, was still at the water’s edge, not close enough as the creature ran towards her. Honking, Msizi swooped in and challenged the creature and received a bite on the leg for his troubles. For a moment the creature and Msizi tussled as the flamingo shook his leg violently, trying to shake off the creature.

  It rolled, bared its teeth at Msizi, and then continued its mad dash towards Young-One.

  Her mother, Amahle, was at the nest, and she also challenged the creature, bending her neck and running at it, stomping her feet, but her gentle, curved beak was no match for the creature as it darted past her and grabbed Young-One from the nest.

  Young-One felt pain.

  * * *

  ‘Piet, I have brought in a baby that was hurt today,’ David said as he jogged into their campsite. ‘It was damaged by a mongoose. I clobbered him good and don’t think he will return to raid the nests again, but the baby was hurt.’ He reached into the bag and handed Piet the fluffy white flamingo baby. It was silent.

  ‘I do not think that one can be saved,’ Piet said.

  ‘But we’re in charge of them; we’re watching them. If I can’t save it, why are we bothering to watch them?’ David asked.

  ‘No, I mean you should not have brought it here. We are not supposed to get involved; only watch.’ Piet held the baby. ‘See here? Its tail end is hurt. I can put some herbs on that, but it will need real help to make sure there are no bones broken by the mongoose. I treat humans, so does Dr Lily, but Quintin, he is friends with the vet, so perhaps if you take this baby bird to him, he will make sure that the vet checks it for us. But we cannot keep it when they have fixed it up
, it needs to go back with the other birds and be wild again.’

  ‘I’ll take it to him,’ David said. ‘It will be a long walk to his house.’

  ‘Ja, it will. Take Maddy with you and walk together, remember her parents have standing within the community, so it is good to have someone to keep you out of trouble. You kids are doing a good job, keeping the predators away from the babies that are left for this year. Such a small group of them, too. It is going to be a long three months until all the babies can fly and we have to keep the area safe. Let us hope that this flood is the last of the water. Cross fingers that the municipality stops more water coming into the dam and diverts it like they are supposed to. They should be diverting it—they are damaging all the work that the mine did to build the island in the first place. Do you remember the way to Quintin and Lily’s house?’

  ‘I remember,’ David said.

  Piet grinned and put his hand on David’s shoulder. ‘Tell Bessie that you want to see Mr Quintin right away, and that Piet sent you.’

  David smiled. ‘Come on, Maddy.’

  * * *

  Quintin was working in the garage, carving the wood to make the neck of a violin, when Bessie cleared her throat.

  ‘Young David is at the gate with a friend. He said that Piet sent them from the dam, and they have something for you.’

  ‘Please let them through the gate,’ Quintin said, wiping his hands on a rag that was next to Tiger’s box. Tiger meowed for his attention, and Quintin stroked the cat almost subconsciously.

  Bessie nodded and walked out through the inter-leading door to the house, which was left open. He liked it that way so he could hear if Lily needed him.

  Until Lily sorted out with the right authorities who was causing the medicine contaminations, they wouldn’t leave. If they were not finished by June next year, they would have to though. Quintin was set to tour around at least eight countries with his new album, finishing up with his Christmas concerts in Vienna. But they would return here until her work was completed. While they had their own obligations, they always travelled together and didn’t like being apart. Not even after all their years together.

  Despite having full-time security guards at the moment, he was loving the big property and the quietness of the house. To his surprise, having Bessie in ‘their’ space hadn’t proved a problem. Even Lincoln always pottering around in the garden hadn’t disturbed him, as work on composing his yet unnamed album and his new project of making a violin himself was going well.

  Sure, Lily had patched up his hands more than once, but he was thankful all the wood crafting he did, as therapy to get his fingers back in shape way back when, was coming in handy now. Even Piet had helped with the small carving challenges; he was a man of many talents.

  He took off his safety glasses, wiped his hands, switched off the plug and walked towards the outside door. Opening it, he yelled at the top of his voice, ‘Woza, Lincoln, we’ve got a new plant!’

  He walked back through his studio and to Lily’s study to fetch the new digital camera. Lily was getting excited about the book as she’d sent out a proposal to a lawyer in Sandton to oversee the legalities, and she had also sent letters to a few of the South African publishing companies to see who was interested in printing it.

  ‘Hello, David. Who’s your friend,’ Quintin said at the front door.

  ‘This is Maddy.’

  ‘Hello, Maddy, nice to meet you.’

  Maddy didn’t put her hand out; she ducked behind David as if she was a little shy.

  ‘So what type of plant did Piet send me? Come on, let’s walk to the hothouse, and Lincoln can pot it up for us after we’ve taken a few pictures. You can tell me all about it.’

  ‘Mr Quintin, it is not a plant,’ David said as he brought his backpack to the front of his chest.

  Quintin could see a small head sticking out from the soft webbing pocket in the front. The baby was wrapped in some cloth, and only its grey fluffy head was visible. Its beak not even curved yet. ‘A baby bird?’

  ‘It is hurt,’ David said. ‘The mongoose tried to steal her from the turret, but I saved her, and now she needs help.’

  Lincoln walked up next to them, standing outside the door, and looked at David’s backpack. ‘I’ve never seen one like that before.’

  ‘Whatever it is, let’s get it inside, then,’ Quintin said.

  ‘It’s a flamingo,’ David said proudly.

  Lincoln grinned. ‘It looks too small to take away from its mother.’

  ‘It is,’ Quintin said. ‘Come in, there’s a box in my studio we can put it in.’

  Entering the studio, Quintin lifted Tiger out and onto the bench. ‘Come on, cat, I need that box.’

  He put a towel that was on the bench into the box and then turned to David. ‘Let’s put it in here for now, so it can be safe.’

  ‘Won’t the cat eat it?’ Maddy asked, seeing Tiger eye the bird.

  ‘I hope not. I’ll keep an eye on Tiger.’

  ‘Piet said you know the vet,’ David said.

  ‘Let’s call him. Maddy, your job is to make sure that Tiger doesn’t eat the baby while I’m on the phone.’

  She nodded.

  He dialled Mason, the local vet who had helped him with the vaccinations of the horses. ‘Hey, Mason, is there any chance you can come by my place, like now? I’ve got a baby flamingo. I’m not quite sure what I’m supposed to do with it, but it’s here and I could use some help.’

  ‘I haven’t seen one up close for many years; I’m on my way—give me fifteen minutes. For now, keep it warm if you’ve got a desk lamp to shine onto the chick. It’ll be in shock and needs to be snuggly. And put it in a box so it can’t escape and hurt itself. See you soon.’

  Quintin hung up and turned to the kids. ‘He’s on his way. Let’s get Bessie to make us some lunch while we wait. I’m sure you’re thirsty after your long walk?’

  ‘I have plants that need to be tended to,’ Lincoln said. ‘Let me know if you need some hay brought in for the baby to sleep on.’

  Quintin nodded. ‘Bessie, please could you rustle up some lunch for these children, and bring us a drink,’ he called out the door.

  He could hear Bessie as she busied herself in the kitchen and he looked at the kids. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. He wanted them here with him when Mason came, so that they could answer any questions he’d have about where the flamingo came from and how it got hurt.

  ‘What shall we call it?’ Quintin asked.

  ‘In Afrikaans flamingos are flaminke,’ said David. ‘I wanted to call it Minke. That name can be a boy or a girl, but it’s your flamingo, Mr Quintin, so you need to name it.’

  ‘You found it, so you name it,’ Quintin said.

  ‘I think Minke is a nice name for it,’ said Maddy as she stroked Tiger, who was now all over her, basking in the attention she was giving him.

  ‘I think so, too. Minke it is. Let’s see what we can do until Mason arrives. He’ll know exactly how to help you, little one, and we’ll do whatever we can to help make you better so that you can go back to your mother,’ Quintin said.

  ‘The baby flamingos only stay with their parents for a little bit, and then they go and make a creche,’ said David. ‘If we can get Minke to the edge of the creche, then it can go back in the wild again because flamingos are flock animals.’

  ‘How do you know so much about flamingos?’ asked Quintin.

  ‘The man came to our school to talk about them, and I think they’re beautiful birds, that’s why I go with Piet on patrol to look after them, and to look after all the other animals that live around the dam. Before I came to live at Platfontein, I had never seen an oryx or even an eland, but now I’m learning all the skills that my ancestors knew because Piet is teaching us.’

  ‘He’s teaching me, too,’ said Quintin. ‘We’re learning about all the plants from the Kalahari and also the Kimberley area that can help Dr Lily to get her patients better.’

 
‘I call him Oom Piet because he’s special to me, and he looks after everybody in Platfontein, and it doesn’t matter which tribe we belong to. He sees us all as one tribe, one San. I like learning all the bush secrets from him because my mother is too busy to teach me,’ Maddy said.

  Minke squawked in the box, and Tiger immediately crouched down. His tail flat to the table, he crept towards the box as if he was hunting.

  ‘Be nice, Tiger. The bird is not food—understand?’ said Quintin.

  Minke honked again. It was a forlorn noise, as if she was now calling for her parents and getting desperate.

  Tiger stood up, and instead of hunting, he looked as if he was more interested to know what was in the box. He sniffed the air and walked slowly towards it. Putting his head over the edge, he peered in. Then he hopped into the box.

  ‘You have to save the baby from the cat,’ David said.

  ‘Let’s give Tiger a chance. He might not want to eat Minke; he isn’t showing any signs of attacking it,’ Quintin said.

  Tiger meowed and wrapped himself around the baby flamingo and began cleaning it as if it was one of his own kittens.

  ‘Well fancy that. Tiger seems to like Minke. Looks to me like he wants to adopt her,’ Quintin said.

  ‘Until we look the other way perhaps,’ said David, ‘then the cat will eat the bird. It is how nature is.’

  ‘We’ll have to watch them carefully, that’s all,’ Quintin said.

  They heard the intercom buzzer and Bessie let Mason through the gates.

  Maddy put her hand into the box and was stroking Tiger. He was purring as he continued to clean Minke. ‘I think the cat likes the baby bird.’

  ‘Hey, Mason, thanks for coming over,’ Quintin said as he shook Mason’s hand.

  ‘Sure, let’s see what we have here,’ Mason said as he gently lifted Minke from the box, and Tiger growled at him. ‘Be nice, Tiger, I’ll give her back.’

  ‘We’ve called her Minke,’ David told him.

  Mason examined Minke and then put her gently back with the cat, without putting any ointment on where she had been bitten. ‘That’s a great name, but we can’t confirm its sex without a DNA extraction from its feather bulb. Which is an expensive test for us here in South Africa. I can’t believe how this cat has taken to this bird so quickly, but I’ve seen instances like this before, where cats have taken in ducklings, or even chicks, and brought them up like their own. I never thought this fat cat had a paternal bone in his huge body. He’s so big and such a demanding cat, it’s so good to see that he’s looking after little Minke. I’ll get on the phone to the zoo in Pretoria to get the formula they use to feed their babies. They have a flock of Chilean flamingos there that they have been successful with. You’re in for a lot of feeding for at least a few weeks. This little one right now needs fluid for sustenance and nutrition, and it needs flamingo milk or a close alternative to survive.’