Chapter 2
"Lana, I need your help! We have a shortage of staff and you promised to help me out with an article whenever I needed one." The editor of the magazine where she used to work sounded anxious over the phone.
"I am sorry, but my PC containing all my completed articles was stolen in the burglary."
"I know that, but I know you can write another one in a flash. The best ideas for articles are still between your ears."
"I wish! What do you have in mind?" She was very aware of her obligation towards the editor, seeing that she was one of the sources of her, Lana's income.
She had to write the article, whether she felt like doing it or not.
"Send me one of your pep talk / motivational articles, or maybe something humorous, to fit in with the New Year's celebrations."
"How about: Twenty five wacky new year's resolutions?" Lana asked unenthusiastically.
"Will it be something like: Thrifty or miserly?" The editor sounded excited. "We are still getting feedback on that article. That is exactly what we want, something to prompt the readers into action, to agree or disagree with us, with passion."
"I will send you something like that. How many words?"
"We have a double page available. I know a thousand words are like nothing to you, and we can fill in the extra space with photos."
"Only a thousand words?" Lana realized that wasn't too much to ask. "And when would you like me to send it to you?"
"Would later this morning be too soon?" her boss asked apprehensively. "Otherwise we would have to make the magazine thinner this month, and you know how I hate doing that."
"I know."
Even though she now was officially a freelance journalist, she did not see herself working between Christmas and New Year. Her plan was to jump out of bed and finish building the walls for the deck, before they delivered the wood and poles later that day. Now she had to sit in front of her notebook and hammer out a humorous article, before she could carry on with her task.
Jumping out of bed proved to be quite impossible. Her whole body was sore and stiff from the previous day's manual labor and her fingertips were raw from working with the bricks and cement. She got up slowly, trying out her sore limbs and fingers. Who knew that building projects could be so strenuous?
As soon as Lana started working on the article she realized that the computer's memory was full. She could not even save the article. The only way to regain memory would be to remove programs and files. She made a promise to the editor and her future depended on keeping that promise, she had to remain calm, work systematically.
She was not going to put her e-husbands old stuff on her memory stick. If he wanted it back it would be easier to email it to him. But the best method to store it until then still to write it on an empty CD. After inserting the CD she tried to determine which programs were taking up the most memory space. Repeatedly she could see that Wynand's files were the large ones. Especially the one marked: Overseas. Although the file was password protected, she could imagine that it contained photos of him and his new girlfriend. Suddenly she was furious, and wished she could wipe the whole file and all its gigs into thin air.
Goody-two-shoes Lana prevailed and she saved the file on to the first CD. If he ever asked her for it one day, she would decide if she wanted to give it to him or not.
After that she tried sending the article again and the e-mail went through on the first try.
She looked at her wristwatch. It was twelve o'clock and she knew she had no other choice. She had to finish building the deck before the hardware man arrived between one and two.
The attractive hardware man did not deliver the wood with the truck, as he originally planned to do, because apparently he could not find the keys. He arrived in a Land Cruiser with a ‘Pest Control' sign on the side, and a friend to help him unload.
They got out of the truck and started inspecting her handiwork. They were both barefoot and dressed in shorts, with a cold beer in hand.
"Can you believe it? You actually managed to put one brick on top of another. Not very straight … Do you know what a spirit level is?" the hardware man asked cautiously.
"Yes, but this is art and it has to blend into the surroundings," she replied smoothly.
"I still think it is skew," he insisted, closing one eye and swaying to look at one side and then the other side. "Can I offer you a cold beer?"
"No thank you. I want to finish the work. What is your name, hardware man?" she asked sternly.
"Henk Maritz." He extended his hand. "And this is Chris Steyn."
"Ouch!" She withdrew her hand quickly.
"What is going on?" he asked and looked at his own hand in surprise. Did he cause the pain?
"It isn't your fault. The cement destroyed my fingers," she groaned.
"Cement does that. Are you going to leave the wall as it is, or are you going to re-do a part of it?"
"Let me make myself very clear, Misters Henk Maritz and Chris Steyn." Her body language was threatening and she placed her hands on her hips. "My walls are not only a little skew, they are very skew, but I am not going to break them down, so stop gawking and help me to get the poles in to place."
"No, wait!" Chris nearly dropped his beer, trying to stop her when she picked up a pole. "The cement is still wet. Your masterpieces will fall over."
"Yes, they will," Henk agreed and burst out laughing. "Wait until tomorrow."
"Okay, I suppose I am in too much of a hurry." She glared at him, wondering if it was really as funny as he was making it out to be.
"I am going to leave the bakkie here with you if you will be kind enough to take us back to the centre." Henk swallowed his laughter when he realized that Lana could not see the humor in the situation. "Chris is here to have a look at your geyser. He understands electricity. They are on their way to Maputo, but I asked him to pop in here first."
Now you have both had a few beers, and the geyser is an excuse to have some more tonight, Lana decided as she watched the man testing the wires of the geyser.
"Element," Chris confirmed. "We will have to replace it. Do you know if there is one in the shop?"
"I am not sure, let us go and see, otherwise I will have to buy one in Malelane and keep it for when you return from Maputo in a week's time," Henk answered.
"There should be one in the shop." Chris turned around. "You told me about a house for sale in this area. Is it that one?"
"Yes, the one on the third plot from here. If it is okay with Lana, we can walk there and then she can pick us up to take us back to the centre."
"Okay, hardware man."
Henk Maritz just smiled as he started walking and again Lana could not help noticing how attractive he was. When he smiled there were deep indents in his cheeks, something she had always found irresistible in a man. Especially when the smile spread up into his eyes, something that seemed to happen easily and often.
She stopped next to them, got out of her truck and walked with them to look at the house, a house obviously in a different league to her own little shack.
"Unfortunately the place has been neglected, as it hasn't been occupied for a while. Be careful, there is a loose tile." Henk pointed at the patio steps. "If you are interested in buying, you will have to check out the electrical wiring as well, as the mice have caused a lot of damage."
"I can see a lot of potential from the outside of the house."
"The house needs a bit of tender loving care, that's all. Someone should build a lapa and braai area over here. Then you will have a good view over the river, the same as Lana." Henk sounded excited as he explained what he would have done if he were interested in renovating the house.
"Okay, let us go and fetch the keys. I would like to see the inside. What is the lowest offer that will be accepted?"
Henk thought for a few moments. He mentioned a figure that was quite agreeable to Chris as he answered: "Good, you have a buyer!"
"Wow, you can ge
t someone excited about a house. Are you an estate agent?" Lana asked Henk.
"No … man … I am just selling the house." Henk looked at her modestly.
"Building Inspector" She was not teasing, she was inquisitive to know.
"No, also not."
"Are you a draughtsman of house plans? I suppose I will have to submit my plans should I decide to build a second bedroom."
"It is not my forte, but I do have a program on my computer to do it. I could probably help you." Henk turned to Chris. "Shall we go and see if there is a geyser element in the shop?"
"Sure, estate agent, building inspector, draughtsman and hardware man! Just a friendly warning, Lana: Do not expect Henk to build anything. I think he has more or less ten bananas on each hand instead of fingers," friend Chris teased. "I am not even sure if he knows how to replace a globe. Or has anything changed in the meantime that I am not aware of, Maritz?"
"Of course something changed! I can open a bottle of beer using only one hand. That doesn't sound like a man with ten bananas instead of fingers, does it?" Henk answered and Chris burst out laughing, as they walked to the double cab.
"Lana, do yourself a favour and spend an evening with Henk around the campfire. We never stop laughing. How about tonight? Would you like to come over for a braai? We are only leaving for Maputo tomorrow morning, and then you can see my friend in top form."
"Chris, stop it," Henk said. "You are making me out to be a prize pig on display to be sold to the highest bidder."
"No, I am trying to convince a lady to notice this talented single guy hiding here between the bushes. I know if you had your way, you would sit and sulk in front of the TV, about what went wrong in your life. Lana, please come over for a braai tonight?"
"No thank you!" One sideways glance was enough to see that Henk was upset by Chris's words. She would not even consider socializing under such circumstances. Anyway, she was convinced that Henk would not have to go to a lot of effort to arrange female company for the evening.
She parked the bakkie in front of the hardware store and Henk opened the door. They started walking up and down between the shelves, looking for a geyser element.
"If there were any in stock it would have been on this shelf." Chris shook his head. "I don't see any."
"There is a storeroom at the back," Henk indicated, but it was obvious that he was not in the mood to try to find the keys to open it. The centre was closed for business between Christmas and New Year, because of lack of interest. "I can give Lana a key to that house, the one you want to show to your sweetheart. She can bath or shower there in the meantime."
"Would the owner not mind?" Lana asked.
"No, not at all. The owner has left town."
"No, wait! I don't really want to," she replied. "It is hot, and I can bath in cold water. My geyser can be fixed when Chris returns from Maputo."
Lana slowly concluded that there was a very relaxed state of mind affecting everybody in Marloth Park, especially when Henk only arrived at ten the next morning to collect the bakkie.
"How did you get here? She asked surprised, as she brushed her honey-brown hair from her face. "I did not hear a car."
"Bicycle." He pointed at the black mountain bike parked against the wall. "You should get one, too. A group of us goes cycling for about twenty kilometers three afternoons a week. We take turns selecting the route."
"I am not really into exercise. Anyway, it is too hot here."
"You will get used to the heat, and the exercise will be good for you."
"What do you mean? Are you referring to the extra ten kilos I am carrying around?"
"I did not say that," he grinned. "Anybody feels better when he is fit. Anyway, I think you are exaggerating about the extra ten kilograms. It is impossible, it cannot be that many."
"Perhaps even more, after the festive season. Would you please help me to unload your bakkie?"
He helped her to put the logs into position and to tie them with the wires she had built into the walls. Lana could see that he was not as helpless as Chris made him out to be.
They loosely packed the twenty-five boards, as they had to be painted before she could secure them with nails later that day. Henk placed the bicycle on the back of the Cruiser truck, ready to leave.
"Before you go …" she stopped him. "There are a few creepy crawlies and mosquitoes in my house. What would you charge me to fumigate the place thoroughly?"
"What do you mean fumigate the place thoroughly?" Henk seemed flabbergasted, until he noticed the sign writing on the Cruiser's door. "Oh, I see. No, this is not my bakkie. It belongs to André. He is on holiday in Maputo as well. He said I could use his truck anytime I needed it. But wait, maybe I can help."
He took out his cell phone and tried to phone.
"No reply." He dropped the call. "There is probably no reception where they are. Is the problem very bad or can you wait until they return?" He could see the disappointed look on her face, jumped into the bakkie and said, "Don't go away. I will be back soon."
Off he went.
In less than twenty minutes he returned in a previous model silver BMW 320 and a large can of Doom in his hand. He emptied the can in the house and closed the doors.
"While the poison is working you can build your deck," he said, throwing the empty can into the rubbish bin. "Have fun."
He left again.
The deck was quite sturdy and completed on the thirtieth day of the old year! While Lana was admiring her own handiwork, the silver BMW stopped in front of her house. Henk Maritz got out and whistled in surprise and admiration.
"I would not have been able to do that," he admitted. "Even if I … wanted to."
"Yes, I understand building is not exactly your forte, even if you have many other talents," she teased. "Would you like to have a cup of coffee and a rusk?"
"Tea, if you don't mind." He inspected the deck. "Did you hammer in the nails by yourself?"
"Yes. I think they may have been a little too long. I had to force them in. I think my arm is going to be sore again tomorrow. Sit down, while I make the tea."
"Right …" He looked apprehensively at the only folding chair next to the folding table on the new deck before following her to the kitchen.
"Don't worry, I will bring another chair." She picked up her building book. "While you are here, can I show you what I am going to build next week?"
"Yes, of course …" he smiled.
"I am going to build a swimming pool, right next to the deck, a splash pool."
"Never. That would be too specialized."
"Look who's talking. You or me? And who was blessed with nimble and agile fingers?" She did not wait for an answer, but continued: "A braai area with paving. In addition, a pole fence around my bakkie. Do you perhaps know of a reliable welder?"
"I do. His name is Piet. I will business card you his cell number."
"Stunning. And now mister Maritz, do you have any questions?"
"Yes, of course I have a question." He looked like a naughty boy. "When will the tea be ready?"
"Oh, gosh! Immediately. I suppose you want to go back to your shop."
"No, not really. I am just thirsty." He was standing next to her in the open plan kitchen and looked around. "Are you thinking of settling here permanently?"
"I am considering it. My ex … left the country. He is somewhere in Europe. My kids are grown up and on their own. I am earning my money through the internet, so I can stay anywhere in the world."
"I see." He looked at her searchingly, probably waiting for the tears to fall, as often happened in the case of a woman who had lost the love of her life. However, she had shed her last tear in Pretoria and had decided that life goes on.
"The kettle is boiling!" she declared cheerful.
Back on the deck he lifted his cup. "A toast to your new deck. Thanks for the tea. I don't drink coffee during the day."
"I realized you guys are not very fond of coffee,
" she chuckled. "You prefer beer."
"You are referring to the day we brought your wood?" He grinned. "Chris likes his beer. I cannot compete with him. Half a dozen only lasts him a morning. I drink one, and then I have to see if I can stand on both feet, never mind one. And don't tell me you did not notice that."
"My lips are sealed."
"Gmf!" He dunked the rusk and started chewing. "Nice, thank you. By the way, what are you doing on New Year's Eve?"
"Nothing, I am staying at home. I am not going to wait for midnight. And you?"
"There is a church service. I am expecting the family in the afternoon. We will have a braai and afterwards go to the midnight service."
"Then I suppose Mrs. Maritz is busy cooking up a storm?"
"There is no Mrs. Maritz any more. May I invite you to come over tomorrow evening?"
"No thank you. I am not in the mood for company now. Maybe another time." She remembered the expression on his face when Chris invited her to the braai and referred to him as the main comedian of the campfire concert. She was convinced that he was feeling sorry for her because she would be spending New Year's Eve on her own.
"Sure. I have to go." He stood up after making sure she had finished her tea. "I enjoyed that, thank you."