The old man sighed. “You can’t keep it from either of them forever, my dear; it’ll only cause more pain. Besides, my son already has an inkling. Please don’t hinder his recovery.”
“Don’t speak to me of pain, old man. I know I can’t bubble wrap my daughter, but I swear, if it’s within my power to prevent my child from getting hurt in any way, I will do so.”
A look of regret flashed across Derek’s face.
“Did you have a hand in all of this?” realization dawned on Mina.
Derek gave her a sheepish glance.
“Shit Derek!” Mina hissed at him.
“I’d do it again in a heart beat my dear.” He stood a little straighter, his lips pulled tight and his eyes flashing with determination.
“Sorry,” Mina whispered harshly as they both turned to watch Lullu dismount her horse using a rear-ways forward leap and tumble, “But you can’t continue to complicate matters. And you’ll certainly not tell him about Lullu!”
“It’s not my story to tell. But if he asks, I will not lie to my son. I’ve kept this from him for too long.”
Mina sighed and swallowed back her anxiety. “And if he fails rehabilitation, gets sent back to prison? What do I tell my daughter?”
“I don’t think he’ll fail this time. I truly believe Ray wants to atone and grow. Do better; be better.” Derek’s voice carried an assuredness a part of Mina desperately wanted to believe. “He wasn’t always a rotten apple. I don’t know what happened, but something broke him inside, the same something that is desperately trying to right his wrongs and step back in to the light.”
“We’ll see,” she replied, scuffing her booted foot in the sand.
“Just know there is one thing both your ma and I have that neither of you do.” Derek slid his arm around her and squeezed.
Mina had never known her father, and Derek Le Roux was the closest person to a paternal figure she’d had growing up. “And what is that?”
“Wisdom and the experience of life.” Derek pulled her into a hug.
“So what ya think, hey Oupa? Boesman and I are so gonna nail nationals!” Lullu, Drina, and her horse strolled toward the pair.
“You’re a wonder. An absolute marvel, my girl,” Derek praised her from the fence. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Where are you going? Can I come too?” Lullu shouted after the old man.
“Not this time, lossiepop. Just going to see a friend.” He winked and grinned.
“Is your friend that man who runs on the beach?” Lullu’s words invited a cold silence to settle on Mina’s heart.
Mina watched him make his way toward the far end of the garden and down the steps leading to the inmates’ quarters when Lullu came to stand by her.
Derek’s face remained blank and his nature calm, “Yes.” He said then turned and walked off.
“Erm … same time tomorrow. You’re doing great.” Drina smiled uncomfortably as she strolled by them, rucksack over her shoulder. “Lullu, you need to rub Boesman down and get him fed.”
“Will do, Aunty Drina.” Lullu smiled and waved.
“Are you cross with Oupa?” Lullu gave Mina a concerned glance as they walked Boesman to his stable.
“No.” Mina shook her head.
“Well, something weird is going on with all of you.”
Mina didn’t reply. Best for the girl to assume than to continue asking questions Mina was unable—no, unwilling to answer.
“Come, your Omie is cooking us a wonderful lunch and is dying to hear all about your training.” Mina cautiously diverted her daughter’s mind from Derek and his visit.
“Won’t Oupa be eating with us?” Lullu asked as she washed her hands at the basin.
Mina glanced at her mother, whose left eyebrow quirked. “He’s having lunch with his friend; he’ll join us for coffee and koeksisters later.”
“But Omie’s made much better food. I don’t understand why I can’t meet his friend too?” Lullu pulled out her chair.
Her daughters demands were trying her patience. “Lovie. Some things are best left alone. It’s Oupa’s private business. Now sit, please.” Mina pointed to the chair and her daughter sat, but not before she gave Mina a knowing grin, which caused her insides to do a loop-the-loop.
Grace dished food onto their plates. Her yellow rice and fish curry was renowned back in Bo Kaap, where her mother lived.
“Mmmm, Omie, you always make the best curry.” Lullu inhaled the warm delicate aroma.
Mina’s tummy growled as the scents of chilli, fennel, and cumin found their way up her nose.
“Amen first,” Grace commanded as Lullu lifted an overfull fork to her mouth.
Reaching out her work-worn hands to Mina and Lullu, Grace began. “Dear Father in Heaven, we thank you for the blessing of this feast before us. We thank you for this beautiful day that we can spend together. Bless and hold our Lullu tight as she works hard for her next tournament—”
“And Boesman,” Lullu interjected causing Mina to bite back a smile.
“Yes, and Boesman. Please bless that creature so that he may keep our angel safe,” Grace added. “Thank you for this and everything. In your name, we pray …”
“And also to keep Mommy’s thoughts peaceful when she sleeps so her weird nightmares about my daddy can stop.”
Mina’s eyes shot open at the same moment as her mother’s did. Lullu’s remained tightly shut.
“Cheeky!” Mina mumbled.
“Yes, and please bring Mina some peace of mind and fill her heart with courage. Amen.”
6
Raymond paced the floor beside the table and two chairs reserved for him and Pa in the mess. All the other inmates’ visitors had arrived and they were happily chatting and catching up.
To one side sat the counsellor, Vestra, and two guards strolled the outer edges of the hall. It struck Ray that there was no Mr. Meintjies pacing the floors and handing out scowls today. The man probably needed his time off too.
Excitement and panic roiled in his gut. Pa’s letter had mentioned he’d visit today and that he was looking forward to it. But he was twenty minutes late. Had he changed his mind? Ray wouldn’t be surprised. After all, it was his criminal actions which had landed his father on death’s door.
“Ray.” A deep, gravelly voice caused him to stop pacing and look up.
Pa, though older, hadn’t changed. His hair was a little whiter, and there were a few extra lines around his mouth, but his eyes were as blue and loving as Ray always remembered them.
“Pa.” He shoved his hands in to his pockets.
The old man wasted no time as he confidently strode toward Ray and wrapped him in a big bear hug. “It’s so good to see the man I thought I’d lost.” His father’s words squeezed his heart.
Ray reciprocated the action, his strong arms curling around his father’s portly form. “I missed you, Pa. I’m so sorr—”
His pa pulled away, still gripping Ray’s shoulders in his strong, age-spotted hands. “You’ve already apologised. I accept. Now, let’s sit down and catch up.”
Ray swallowed the ocean of emotions threatening to bring him to tears. This was so like pa.
“Shall I get us some tea? The coffee’s not what you’d like. Lunch will be served in a bit,” Raymond offered.
“Sounds good, my boy.”
Ray kept stealing glances at his father. It was surreal to see the old man, healthy and strong. He’d only seen him once after the attack which Ray was responsible for, and that had been at his sentencing months earlier. After everything he’d done to his family… who’d have thought he’d come to visit. It was a miracle. But what could he say to this man he owed so much to?
The pair sat at the table, cupping their mugs.
“How are you coping?” His pa folded his arms on the table top.
“I was doing fine until Mi …” Ray paused when pa held up his hand.
“Shh, not now. We’ll go for a walk after we’ve eaten.” pa winked.
A bell chimed announcing visitors and inmates could make their way up to the serving area. Ray led his pa to the buffet. A spread put out to entertain their guests and one worthy of more sophistication than inmates entertaining family.
A tall scrawny man, with silver stubble and ratty strands of equally grey hair walked up behind where the pair stood in line awaiting their turn to dish up.
“This your pa?” Cyril held out a hand. “Pleased to meet you, Oom.”
His pa gripped the man’s hand. “And you.”
“Have a lekka lunch.” The man gripped his plate and walked off.
“Some colourful characters around here.” Pa smiled when a second inmate proffered them a toothless smile.
“Ray’s old man, huh?” the man asked, then leaning forward, saying, “This where you get the brains? He’s the only one of us who understands the larny business of this farm.” The inmate threw a thumb over his shoulder, indicating to Ray.
Ray shook his head as they returned to their tables with their food and cutlery.
“So, it seems you’re doing well.” Derek sat, then gripped his son’s hand in his. “Shall we pray?”
Ray nodded and bowed his head as his father rambled his Afrikaans prayer of thanks off. The words were not new, but their meaning was refreshed. Ray quickly wiped away the single tear trekking down his cheek.
“I quite like the setup. It’s the first time in a long while that I’ve found anything interesting,” Ray said before shovelling a filled fork into his mouth.
Pa smiled broadly. “Good to hear, my boy. Good to hear.”
They continued eating their bobotie and chatted about everyday stuff.
“Ja, these abalones, they’re a pricey, sought-after food, but I never knew how important they were to the local ocean’s ecosystem. I guess all the animals are,” Ray continued to speak. He’d not felt so buoyant in years, and the fact that his pa was smiling and listening to him exceeded all his expectations for the day.
“She has quite the venture going here. I’m proud of you, son. You really seem to be taking your, er, issues in hand.” Derek reached for the tin of soda he’d gotten with lunch, and sipped.
Ray averted his gaze and stared at the food on his plate.
“I won’t let you down ever again, Pa.” Ray reached forward and patted his old man’s hand.
“I know. Oh, before I forget. I brought you a gift.” Derek dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a mid-sized square, brown paper-wrapped object.
“You shouldn’t have.” Ray hesitated when his pa handed it to him.
“Go on, my boy. Make an old man happy.” Derek smiled.
Ray swallowed down his mouthful and took the gift. Fingers shaking and nerves tingling, he removed the tape holding the neatly folded sides.
From the wrapping Ray pulled a book bound in black leather. On its front cover, embossed in gold stood the title, Blake the complete collection. He lifted the book to his nose and inhaled, “I never could resist the smell of a good book.”
No longer capable of swallowing his tears, Ray blinked and looked up. “Thank you.” His hoarse appreciation came out as a whisper.
‘Blake: the complete collection.’
“Thought you’d like it.” Derek nodded proudly then continued to finish his plate of food. “Better to read than allow your thoughts to drift too much. You writing again?”
“On-only to you.” Ray stumbled over his reply, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, and placed the book on the table.
A soft silence wrapped around the pair. For the first time in months, Ray felt something akin to the peace which had once filled his past and while it lasted, he allowed himself to revel in it.
“How’s sis and Thomas?” He placed his knife and fork together on his half-eaten plate of food.
“Just back from a trip to Australia. She’s working her arse off at that hospital, and Thomas is loving his new job with Interpol.” Derek smiled.
“Do you think I can write to her yet? I owe them both a huge apology.” Ray looked down at his plate.
“Yes. But I want you to listen to me first.” Derek’s voice grew deep and serious, forcing Ray to look his pa in the eye.
“I know you want to make amends, but it’s not always their forgiveness that will enable you to move forward. Apologise if it’s sincere, which I believe it is. I know they will accept it. Then, that is enough. Stop looking for atonement in others when it’s only you who can give it to yourself. You cannot heal if you cannot forgive yourself.”
Ray swallowed hard, clenching his hands together on his lap. Pa was right, but Pa had no idea how hard that simple request was.
“I’ve had to forgive myself for a lot too. I know it’s not easy; it takes time, work, and love,” Derek said as though reading Ray’s mind.
“And what have you done that ever needed forgiveness?” Ray fought to keep the bitterness from his tone.
“Deserted my son in his time of need.”
Ray’s gaze focused on his father’s face. The old man’s bright blue gaze darkened, and the corners of his mouth turned down. “You and Ma were always there for me, Pa. It was me. I chose to ignore …”
His pa quietened him with the wave of a hand. “I was too busy running the farm, hiding from your mother’s diagnosis, and numbing myself to the pain of her loss. I forgot all about my children. I needed to forgive myself for not seeing what was right beneath my nose until it was too late. For a myriad of other times I failed you and your sister, not to mention Mina.” He whispered her name.
Ray swallowed hard, “Did you know?”
Pa pinched his lips together, “Of the two of you? Ja.”
“And you never said anything.” Ray leaned away, not sure how to feel. Did he have a right to be angry?
“I figured you would… but then you ma and…” Pa’s voice trailed off as he looked down.
“Grace has never left your employ. Did you keeps tabs on Mina? That girl…”
“Shhh. Not here. Come lets go walk down our lunch.” Pa rose from the table.
The pair made their way over to the scullery, scraped their plates clean, and rinsed them before placing the dishes on the pile to be packed into the washer. Raymond tucked the book of poetry into his pants back pocket as he lead Pa outside, and they both walked up to the edge of the beach where the cement path ended and the hot sand began.
“You knew she owned this farm,” Ray said.
“Ja. I called in a favour to have you sent here,” his pa confessed, looking him right in the eye.
Ray shook his head and held up his hand. “Okay.” It was all he could utter. The knowledge roiled in his gut.
“You are allowed to be upset with me.” His pa acknowledged Ray’s internal struggle.
“I am. But I also understand, or am trying to.”
“Don’t let that anger eat at you. You need to let it out, in a healthy way, and to know, this was the last tool in my kit. I’m your pa; how could I not always want to save you? It’s not easy being a parent. Often there are no right or wrong decisions.” His pa shoved his hands in his pant pockets.
His pa’s words rung with truth, but Ray was still trying to make sense of the confession and his feelings. After years of burying them under a cloud of highs, it was hard to acknowledge and deal with them.
“Shall we walk?” Ray waved a hand toward the beach.
“Ja, but I’m taking off my shoes first.”
Father and son laughed loudly as they hopped across the sun-baked sand like a pair of idiots. They reached the wet, cool part of the beach where the ocean’s tongue lapped at the scorched sand.
“Eish. I didn’t think it’d be that hot yet.” Pa shook his head as they both rolled up the legs of their trousers and walked.
Ray plucked up his courage and tackled the white elephant.
“I never meant to hurt her. I had to protect her. It didn’t matter what it cost me; I couldn’t let them harm her.”
“I know
, my boy. And not a day goes by that I don’t blame myself also.”
“How so?” Ray asked, confused.
“I should have protected you from those bigots. Don’t you love how the idiots in this world believe only white men can be racist?”
Ray stopped as a wave crashed and sprinted up the sand, washing over their feet and up their calves.
Pa took off walking, leaving Ray to realize what his pa had just said.
“Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?” Ray blurted as they rounded the far corner of the wide cove.
Pa bent over and picked up a sea-smoothed clam shell. He turned it this way and that, then looked at Ray. “That is a question you would need to ask her.”
“She ran away the other day.” Ray collected a few washed up pebbles and faced the ocean. Like him, it stirred and raged but also presented with moments of calm and translucent waves.
“It must have been a shock to you both after all these years?” Pa said.
Ray nodded, twisted his right arm and hip, then threw a pebble as a wave crested before him. The stone skipped along the flattened water then dove in to an oncoming wave.
“Can’t blame her. But the time will come when the both of you will need to face your pain and your past.” Pa shrugged and turned back.
Ray enjoyed the sun and rush of froth and water in a shared silence as they made their way to the beach entrance. They rounded the last corner where the land peaked and formed a hill. The girl was back on the dune.
She shouted something and waved excitedly at them. Ray glanced at his father, whose face had taken on a stiff expression. Pa lifted his arm and returned the wave.
“Come, our time is almost up.” He gripped Ray’s elbow and urged them on.
“Is she mine?” Ray’s eyes refused to leave the sublime real-life portrait of the girl and her horse. Even when his father’s hand gripped his shoulder, he could not turn away from the scrawny blonde smiling down at them.
Road to Redemption Page 5
