Whisperers

  She put the stone back to her cheek.

  Smiled.

  As if to herself.

  “Give me your other foot.”

  I put Nia’s left foot down on the grass.

  She rubbed it with her hand and put it into the water.

  Rubbing it on the black and white stones lying at the bottom.

  I removed the black and white striped sock.

  Slowly.

  I savoured these moments.

  Moments that I could touch her.

  Feel her skin.

  Nia had well defined legs.

  But very feminine.

  It was thanks to all the netball she played.

  Or used to play.

  Her skin was smooth.

  I just wanted to touch it.

  Kiss it.

  And do all sorts of things to it.

  I took her foot into my hand and gently started massaging it.

  Working my way around key areas of her foot.

  When Nia told me her secret.

  It wasn’t easy.

  She didn’t want anyone to know.

  Most of her family doesn’t even know.

  Nia didn’t like people knowing her business.

  She didn’t easily trust people.

  She trusted me, that’s why she told me.

  I immediately started doing research.

  Wanted to know as much about this Grave’s disease as possible.

  I studied up on alternative healing methods.

  One was acupuncture.

  Another was reflexology.

  I was never sure if it worked, but Nia didn’t seem to mind me rubbing her feet.

  She always had a relaxed face and seemed to be experiencing some exhilarating feeling.

  She always bit her lip and breathed deeply.

  Just like she was now.

  With the black stone pressed to her cheek.

  Hat still on her pretty head.

  Uhm.

  *sigh*

  We were sitting at the edge of Lake Tranquillity.

  We were at one of the springs.

  It was right at the end of Gritty-Stones-For-Cracked-Heels-Pass.

  Those stones, unlike these, didn’t have lips.

  No.

  They had more of a rough edge.

  They answered only to Nia of course.

  Every time she would step on it, it would gently caress her heels and give it a rub.

  Gently removing any dried skin.

  That task was usually mine.

  I dreaded it of course.

  But seeing Nia smile.

  That smile made it all worthwhile.

  Just a spoon full of sugar, helps the medicine go down.

  “What happened?” Nia pulled me back to the moment.

  She didn’t mind me going quiet and suddenly drifting off into my own thoughts.

  I think she secretly liked that about me.

  That I was always lost in my head.

  She secretly wanted to know my thoughts.

  I smiled at her.

  She smiled back.

  Beautiful teeth.

  But now, I was focused more on her lips.

  I didn’t think this part of me remained.

  The part that wanted Nia.

  Wanted her body.

  Wanted her in every way.

  We never even kissed.

  A friendly pat on the cheek.

  A good luck kiss on the forehead.

  But that was it.

  No.

  The only one that got to devour those lips was that roach.

  Made me sick to think about it.

  My headache suddenly gave a hard thump.

  I cringed slightly, but I didn’t show the pain on my face.

  I didn’t want Nia to start worrying.

  That she could do too.

  Worry.

  We were the same in that way.

  “Well,” I continued.

  Gently massaging her foot.

  Enjoying every gasp she gave.

  I had to be careful.

  I couldn’t allow it.

  Not again.

  “He got out of his bakkie.

  He was dressed in his khakis.

  As usual.

  Khaki socks pulled up to his knees.

  And those veldskoene.”

  Homemade leather shoes.

  He was a real farmer.

  “He took two big puffs of his pipe and blew the smoke into the air.

  Are you that Esterhuizen boy I have been hearing about? he asked me.

  That boy sounded almost condescending.

  You know how he was with me.”

  Nia nodded.

  She didn’t smile.

  Nia didn’t like talking about her dad.

  She never told me why.

  “Go on.”

  She wanted to know more.

  “I said yes.

  He then stared at me.

  Took another puff of his pipe.

  Kitty stood with her two front paws on the edge of the bakkie.

  As if she would jump the instant I said something wrong.

  It was really intimidating.

  Your dad sort of smirked.

  The Esterhuizens from Stellenbosch? he asked me with a frown.

  I answered “no” of course.

  I didn’t know my dad’s family.

  He tapped the ash out of his pipe and put it in his shirt pocket.

  He then came and stood right in front of me.

  Gave me a glare.

  I could see the muscles twitch in his jaw.

  He tightened his lips.

  His eyes narrowed.

  You better watch it, mister.

  He stared me up and down.

  She’s out of ICU.

  She’s still resting.

  You can go in and see her.

  His sentences were short but stretched out.

  He almost said the can as if instead of may.

  Deliberately.

  Like he was giving me permission.

  Like I needed his permission.

  I looked at him.

  Met his gaze.

  Stared into his eyes.

  I wondered if he was like this with everyone.

  Or just those interested in you.

  Or perhaps just plain old me.

  You know?”

  Nia looked away.

  I didn’t pry any further.

  “Well, I took my permission slip and went in to see you.

  That’s why I came.

  I wanted to see you.

  Make sure that you were alright.

  I haven’t heard from you in weeks.

  Your friend, Jenny, finally told me what happened.

  What you had done.

  I didn’t believe any of it of course.

  I had to see it for myself.

  Seeing you like that.

  It broke my heart.

  I have only cried twice in my life.

  Once when my dad died.

  Only at the hospital.

  Not at the funeral.

  The other day, was that day.

  You in the hospital.

  That February in 2007.”

  Nia shook her head and took her foot from my hand.

  Slowly.

  She put it into the water and rubbed it on the stones.

  She put her head back, eyes closed.

  As if just taking in The Bright.

  She sighed.

  Breathed deeply.

  Then opened her eyes and looked at me.

  “What are you talking about, Sherwin?

  I mean, I was in the hospital.

  My dad was there, sitting in the corner with his pipe in his mouth.

  It was not lit of course.

  You know he liked to just nibble on the end.”

  Nia smiled slightly.

  Looked at me quickly.

  Then away.

  “But you were
never there.

  Or are you talking about the time I was at the Roman Catholic in town?”

  Windhoek, Namibia.

  “No. I’m talking about Rhino Park.

  That’s when I first met your dad.”

  “But when?”

  Nia again seemed to look as if to remember.

  She also had that betrayed look on her face.

  I was not sure if it was me for never telling her I saw her in the hospital.

  Or Jenny.

  For telling.

  That was in 2007.

  Rhino Park, Windhoek.

  We had been spending a lot of time together since that 2002.

  I saw her occasionally at the College of the Arts.

  When she came to do her parlour queen thing.

  I never understood what that was really.

  But mostly we spent almost all week nights and sometimes entire weekends together.

  I could sometimes stay over.

  Had to sleep on the floor of course.

  I didn’t mind.

  I just wanted to be near her.

  In Nia’s company.

  Suddenly, at the beginning of February, she went totally quiet.

  She never answered my messages.

  Her phone was always off.

  I was really worried.

  “My mind was a mess.

  I’m sorry I went to Jenny.

  I just knew something was wrong.

  You would never just ignore me like that.

  You would never let my mind go crazy.

  I knew you knew that.

  That I do that.

  When ignored.”

  Nia smiled sincerely.

  “I went into your room.

  I went in slowly.

  No matter how much I could have prepared myself.

  I would still not have been prepared for what I saw.

  You just lying there.

  Almost lifeless.

  They had you on a drip.

  No other machines at least.

  I felt relieved about that.

  Slightly.

  Not much.

  The sight of you.

  All your hair chopped off.

  Not that I mind your hair short.

  It’s great.”

  My sweetpea.

  She’s beautiful with her hair long.

  Loose or tied to the back.

  Two braids, one on each side.

  Full and covering her voluptuous bosom.

  Or short.

  Just covering her pretty head.

  “They told me you used scissors.

  At first.

  Then you went to get the blade shears.

  The ones your dad used to shear his sheep with.”

  Nia shakes her head in agreement.

  “Yes, I almost cut the tip of my right ear off.

  I brazed the left.”

  She sighed.

  “You were pale.

  I could see the veins and arteries.

  Your cheeks all sunken in.

  Your eyes just like two balls in your face.

  You looked like the crypt keeper.

  Hahaha!”

  I immediately stopped laughing.

  “It wasn’t funny at all.

  I took your hand in mine.

  Kissed it.

  A few tears fell on your hand.

  I gently wiped it off.

  I kissed you on your forehead.

  More tears dropped on your face.

  I wiped them off too.

  Then your dad came in.

  Looked at me all suspicious.

  What do you think you’re doing?

  Get away from her.

  He came in and sort of forced his way in between the bed and myself.

  I think it is best that you leave.

  Now.

  He pointed to the door.

  He glared at me.

  That moustache seemed to be mocking me.”

  Ha-ha.

  “I didn’t argue with him.

  I left.

  And Esterhuizen.

  It’s best you don’t come here again.

  He took your hand in his.

  I’ve got things under control.

  She is my daughter.

  I’ll take care of her.

  I looked at him.

  Then looked at you.

  I hoped that that face would not be the last I saw of you.

  I closed the door behind me and never came to the hospital again.”

  ix

  “Sherwin! Sherwin!”

  “Nia!”

  “Sherwin!”

  I looked at my mother confused.

  She was sitting on the edge of my bed.

  Worried expression on her face.

  The light was on. It was still dark outside.

  “What’s wrong?” I sat up from my bed. I had to sit back quick. My head felt heavy. I felt the head ache throb. I wiped the sweat from my face and neck. It didn’t help much.

  “You were screaming in your sleep. Again. This time, you cried too.”

  I looked at my mother.

  She still just had the worried expression on her face.

  I looked away.

  “This time you spoke again.”

  I looked at my mom.

  Wondered what I had blurted out while I was in that nightmare.

  Only thing I’ve dreamed since I returned to Cape Town.

  Now exactly more than a year and a half ago.

  “What do you mean?” I wanted to know. “What did I say?”

  “Well, not much. You kept repeating the same thing over and over again. That’s when you started crying. I have been trying to wake you up for a while now.”

  “Why was I crying? What did I say?”

  “Nia, don’t die.”

  My mom looked at me. She put her hand to my left cheek.

  “You sounded almost… like when you were little. Like a child. When your father past away.” She stroked her hand through my wet hair.

  “You said something else too.”

  My mom stopped stroking my hair. Patted me lightly on the cheek.

  “What?” I asked. A bit too loud and quick. My head hurt worse than before.

  “You can’t have it.” She sighed slightly.

  “That’s not the first time you have said that.”

  She stood up and went to the door.

  “I wish you would tell me what it is that you are running from.”

  She left my room.

  End of Chapter 5

  Anubis

  god of death

  "Let her go, you big ugly monkey!!!Let her go!!! Let her go!!!!! I'll kill you!!! I swear, I'll kill you!!!!!!!Let her go!"

  i

  2010

  “Scrambled eggs and toast?”

  Mom sounded cheerful for one that didn’t get much sleep.

  “Please.” I answered.

  I went to stand by the kitchen table.

  Mom had on her gown.

  As usual.

  Her hair still in her stocking. She hummed a hymn to herself.

  “Sorry about… last night.”

  I was.

  Mom put the stove off and moved the pan to a cool plate. The eggs smelled delicious. I was really hungry.

  My headache had subsided. It did give a thump now and again. Occasionally.

  Mom looked at me. The cheerful face now more sombre. She crossed her arms. Then she just stared at me. I didn’t stare back. I went to go sit on the single sitter. That look only meant one thing.

  A lecture.

  She put a lid on the pan and came into the lounge. Sat opposite me on the couch. She sat on the edge. Up straight. Arms crossed. The face less serious though.

  “Sherwin. How many times are you going to tell me that you are sorry?”

  She looked at me as if I was supposed to answer.

  I shrugged.

  She shrugged too and shook her head.

/>   “For the past year, that is all you have had to say. I’m sorry.” She shrugged. Put her hands to her head.

  “I don’t know what to do? Why won’t you let me help you?” She looked at me. At least no tears. I couldn’t deal with that now.

  “It was just a nightmare.” That was the truth.

  A nightmare.

  “Yes. But what is it that haunts you?” She was very serious. She looked me straight in the eye.

  I looked away.

  “Is it Marnia?” Her voice was softer. She tilted her head to the side, as if to see my eyes.

  I looked at her.

  The hanging eye seemed less scary.

  “Yes.”

  I sighed.

  I was relieved to say it.

  “What happened to her?” Mom was less invasive, more interested.

  “She told me she never wanted to see me again.”

  The words came easy. I have wanted to tell someone. I knew Thurston suspected, but we never talked about it. He was not one to pry and neither was I.

  “But why? What happened? Didn’t she like the surprise? You spent years on it all. That’s all you ever talked about when you called. I could hardly ever get a word in.”

  I looked at my mom and smiled. She was right. That’s all I ever talked about.

  Umf.

  Funny.

  “She liked it.” That was true.

  “But what then?”

  “I proposed.”

  Mom puts her hand to her mouth.

  “And she said no?” Mom didn’t really ask.

  I just shook my head. I hoped she wouldn’t ask any of the details. Didn’t want to be reminded of that NOT tweet. That scratchy recording.

  “Did she say why?”

  I looked at my mother. She looked concerned again.

  “She met someone else. And. Nothing. She wanted to be with him.”

  I looked at my mother.

  She knew not to pry any further.

  “I’m sorry, Sherwin.” She smiled sincerely.

  Then.

  “But this can’t go on. It is time to move on. My dear, take it from your mother.” She puts her hands on her lap and hunches forward.

  “Time is precious. Don’t waste it on those that don’t deserve it.”

  I didn’t argue.

  My mom was right. This couldn’t go on. I had to find a way to let go. Had to find a way to make her to let go. Every time I got close, she held on tighter. I’ve never been strong enough, to get her to let go and flip the switch.

  I was always too weak at that point. The doof-doof in my head always made me pass out and I would wake up. Felt like I had just been hit by a truck. The dreams always seemed so real.

  He was real enough.

  I cringed and stood up.

  “May I have some?” I didn’t wait for an answer. I scooped some of the egg into a plate and took a slice of toast. It was already cold.

  “What are you going to do about that chest?”

  I looked at my mother. She looked at me. I knew what she wanted me to answer.

  “I’ll get rid of it.”

  I didn’t blink.

  Just took another bite of my toast.

  Mom sighed.

  A sigh of relieve.

  ii

  I looked at the cans on the shelf in front of me.

  All the labels to the front. The shelf is full. Hopefully the Slave-driver would be happy. I hated working here. But staying busy helped me to forget. Among these cans and packaged goods, there was solace.

  Silence.

  Something that was rare these days.

  But keeping busy was good.

  Great actually.

  I had hoped to find a job as a carpenter or at least join a joinery.