He knew that she was not a Bushman woman like the ones in the book, but Africa was Africa and a woman was a woman. He just hoped she was not too emancipated. The book had said the Bushman women were the least emancipated, which was what he wanted, but now he had fallen for Treasure and he had make it work with her, no matter what. He wet his lips. He imagined the pungent smell of her sweat and he wanted to bury his face in her hot, wet armpit and drink her salt. His face turned purple with desire.
He sensed someone looking at him and he turned to find that girl, the one who reminded him of his mother, staring at him. Rydell paled and felt as if he had been doused in icy water.
Why was she watching him again? He hated the way she looked at him, as if she could read his thoughts. But what could she know of his thoughts? Nothing, nothing at all. He returned her look evenly, his face quickly blameless and composed but when she smiled at him, he was disconcerted. He managed an uncomfortable half-smile in return, his lips twisted to one side and then he looked away. He eased his grip on the knife, telling himself that everything was fine, that he was in control even although he knew it was not true. He had never been in control and he jiggled his knee in anxious irritation, shrinking from the inescapable memory of his countless shames. He had been laughed at all his life because he did not see the world as others did. He tried so hard for normalcy, but the fingers of his mind would scrabble and lose purchase and he would fall back to lonely ground where the only balm to his vicious anger was pain — someone, or something, always had to pay.
He glanced up at his luggage, reassuring himself with the thought of his medications. Yes, he had done the right thing, seen his family doctor. He had tried to pass his concerns off as mere travel stresses but the doctor knew him too well.
“I’m glad you came to see me. That shows an impressive maturity, Rydell. I wish you would stay on meds all the time. There’s no shame in it you know, it’s not your fault, it’s a disease, an illness like any other.”
“I didn’t come here for a lecture,” Rydell said softly in his light, pale voice. “I came for a prescription and I’ll need enough for three months.”
“Three months? Why such a long time?” the doctor had asked as he scribbled on his pad.
“Not that it’s any of your business but I might have to stay in Africa that long. I’m going to find something special and I don’t know how long it will take.”
“Here you go. Come and see me when you get back,” the doctor handed over the prescription and wrote in a file.
“Why? So you can interrogate me?” Rydell got to his feet and brushed imaginary dirt from his trousers. “Don’t worry, Doctor, I plan to be a very good boy. If Mother were still alive, she’d be proud of what a good boy I’m going to be.”
“But Rydell,” the doctor said, disturbed, his notes forgotten, “your mother is still alive and you know it.”
Rydell had turned white. “My mother is dead. Now I remember why I try not to see you, Doctor. You always upset me.” And with that he had left.
Rydell shuddered.
“Are you cold?” tall, boyish Enrique enquired. He was sitting next to Rydell and Rydell nearly fell off his seat in fright.
“What are you talking about?” he asked nervously.
“You gave a great big shake, you know, like when you’re cold. But you shouldn’t be cold, you have the most clothes on, out of all of us,” Enrique smiled at him.
Rydell wanted to hiss at him but he could not, so he tugged at his sleeves and pretended to be laughing. “I’m not hot, and I’m not cold either. Tell me about the first time you kissed a girl and I’ll tell you about mine.”
Enrique was taken aback. “No way,” he said and Rydell turned his back to him and stared out the window.
The bus reached the beach stop and Jono assembled the group. “Everybody! You have ten minutes to walk on the sand, take your photographs of Table Mountain and maybe dip your feet in the ocean. But remember, the water is very cold.”
Kate knelt in the soft white sand and smiled up at the young woman with the long, blond braids who had walked up to join her. Even this morning, she was clothed in flowing Indian trousers; today’s pair were bright yellow cotton, patterned with enormous red and lilac flowers. “In case you do not remember from last night, I am Sofie,” the girl introduced herself again. “I just arrived from travelling through India, which I loved. I do not know if I will love Africa as much, though. India is such a spiritual land.”
“This beach certainly is wonderful,” Kate said, running the fine sand through her fingers.
“True.” Sofie sat down next to her and played with the tiny shells and bits of seaweed casually strewn around her. “The mountain looks incredible from here — a pefect summer day.” Sofie spoke with an odd lisp and Kate found it hard to understand what she was saying.
“Time to go, everybody,” Jono called. “Richard and Mia, come on.”
Mia, standing on the edge of the shoreline, let the icy waves tease her toes as she glanced up at Richard. “Nice, innit,” she whispered, “’aving our own dark little secret?”
Richard laughed. “Not so little really. Yes, it does feel quite thrilling. But you do realize that we have to be patient? That we might only get to have the chance to do it near the middle or end of the trip?”
Mia looked grumpy. “Yeah, I know, you don’t need to keep yammerin’ on.”
“Mia,” he said, “patience isn’t one of your virtues, my love, and I worry about you.”
“Well, bleedin’ don’t,” she said, linking her arm through his as they walked back to the bus. “I know what we’ve got to do, pretend to be ’appy little holidaymakers, blah blah – don’t worry, it’s all under control.”
“Come on,” Jono called again, “it is time to go.”
An hour later, Jono brought the bus to a stop outside a suburban shopping mall on the outskirts of Cape Town. “Everybody! We are going grocery shopping now,” he called out. “You have one hour.”
“Thank goodness,” Marika said. “I’m going to buy a towel and a few things.”
“I forgot, Marika, I have good news,” Jono announced. “Your luggage has been found and it will be with us tomorrow.”
“Excellent! I’ve been in these clothes for what feels like forever.” She brushed at her T-shirt and jeans while the rest of the group tumbled off the bus.
Kate and Marika headed for the T-shirt section inside the main store. “Here’s a nice one,” Kate said, holding up a lime green T-shirt with a blue sequined butterfly on the front.
“Perfect! Well done,” Marika exclaimed.
Stepfan startled them by popping out from between the racks. He flashed a wolfish grin and held up a sheer pink wrap. “This would suit you, Kate.”
“I’m not a stripper,” Kate retorted and Marika pulled her away. “Ignore him,” she said as they weaved through another aisle of casual clothing and made their way toward the front of the shop.
They bumped into Jono and Treasure who were loading up the cart with canned goods and offered to help but Treasure waved them on.
“I’m going to check out the other shops in the mall and see if there’s anything worth photographing,” Kate said to Marika. “You okay?”
“I’m fine, dear, see you out there.”
Watching Kate leave, Treasure nudged Jono.
“I’m sure,” she said in Xhosa, “that you would have been nice and happy to have your princess at your side, so you can begin to charm her.”
Jono gave her a sharp nudge. “Haw! What nonsense you talk. Anyway, you have an admirer already, Did you not notice?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t look now, but over there, by the tomatoes, no Treasure, I said do not look now. You see that man?”
“How can I, if I don’t look?”
“Look out of the corner
of your eye, like a spy would. That man over there has a thing for you, I can tell. He is one of the unfortunates whose heart you are going to break. But, usually there is more than one,” he teased. “So, who is your other victim?”
“Haw! You!” She shoved him, “I don’t do anything. Ei, but why does that man like me? He’s very strange with all the clothes he wears and look at how he is sniffing that tomato. What is he is going to do next, lick it?” She laughed. “He looks like he’s never been with a woman in his life! He must not think he is going to start with me.” She nudged Jono with her shoulder and they walked off, bantering playfully in Xhosa.
Standing next to the tomatoes, Rydell felt the blood red haze of anger fill his vision. He was certain Jono and Treasure been laughing at him. He had seen Jono nod in his direction followed by Treasure’s quick and dismissive glance and her careless, amused shrug.
Filled with savage hurt, he squeezed the tomato in his hand so hard it exploded. Disgusted by the mess he had made and fearful he had been seen, he quickly wiped his hand on the stack of displayed fruit, reached for his handkerchief and delicately cleaned between his fingers. He inspected his clothes for stains, but they were clean. Momentarily appeased, he told himself that Treasure had no idea what he had to offer, and that he must not feel discouraged but his efforts to reassure himself failed and a voice crawled out of his past and into his lonely place, echoeing like a vinyl record in a forgotten and empty room.
Georgie Porgie, Puddin’ and Pie,
Kissed the girls and made them cry,
When the boys came out to play,
Georgie Porgie ran away.
The voice stopped, silent for a moment, then it began again, reedy and thin, mocking and unmistakable. Alone among the fresh produce, with the oft-told nursery rhyme ringing in his head, Rydell listened to his mother’s cruel voice and came to a decision. “No,” he said out loud and this time his fury was white. “No, not this time.” No matter what it took, this time, he was not going to be Georgie Porgie.
He closed his eyes and began to chant and hiss at the grinning crone-ghost of his mother, at the too-close image of her wrinkled red lips, her lipstick spreading into the fine cracks of her skin like blood.
Sticks and stones, I’ll break your bones, but words will never hurt me. When you’re dead and in your grave, you’ll be sorry for what you called me.
He opened his eyes and gave his hands one last careful wipe, his mother silenced.
The mall was decorated for Christmas. Mary and Jesus loomed behind two children with hymn books, their mouths stretched open in frozen song. Kate knelt down next to the life-size tableau. There was something oddly obscene about the children’s faces; they had rudely-painted features, a parody of childhood beauty with yellowed teeth, cornflower blue eyes and bloodied nostrils.
Kate, an avid reader of horror novels, thought the children looked like they had been chewing on raw flesh. She imagined they were Steven King characters that came alive at night and ran amok. She was peering into the boy’s nostrils, enjoying her macabre fantasies when she was startled by the brush of fetid, hot breath on her neck and she nearly crashed into the tableau.
It was Stepfan, leaning over her. “Are you alright?” he asked. “Let me help you up. I was looking over your shoulder to see what you were photographing. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Kate gathered herself, pointedly ignored his outstretched hand and tried to forget his stale breath.
“What’s going on here?” Marika arrived, a plastic bag in hand.
“Nothing, nothing,” Stepfan held up his hands. “Don’t twist your little panties into a knot.” He wandered off.
“I really wish he’d stop popping up,” Kate said. “What an awful man and I get the distinct impression he thinks he’s God’s gift to women. His poor wife.”
“His wife’s Katharine Hepburn á la African Queen?”
“Yep, that’s the one.”
Marika looked at her watch. “Enough time left to quickly pop into the pharmacy.”
They bumped into Charisse at the entrance to May’s Chemist. She was pale and had a hand on her belly. “My stomach’s killing me,” she said by way of a greeting. “I’m hoping the drugstore will have something that will help.”
Richard and Mia were also inside, in the middle of a heated argument with the pharmacist.
“Now see here, old chap,” Richard insisted loudly. “My girlfriend here needs her prescription filled, and no, for the fifth time, you can’t phone the doctor who wrote it. He’s in London, for God’s sake.”
Richard was trying to appear amicable, but his jaw was clenched and his hands were balled into fists at his sides.
“Come now,” he tried again, forcing a smile, “I don’t understand what you’re making such a fuss about. We’re here for a long holiday and we’re going to be on the road, travelling all the way through Africa and who knows when we’ll get to a pharmacy again? Come on, old chap, be an obliging fellow and give us a hand.”
“But it is a most strong tranquillizer,” the Indian pharmacist objected with a strong Delhi accent. “And not one I am used to having to give out. Plus, you wish to acquire a hefty amount. It would be irresponsible of me to fill this out without enquiring further. I am only wanting to know that this is all above board.” He studied the prescription with a frown.
Kate, Marika and Charisse watched Mia gaze at the pharmacist with a pleading expression. It might have been the conviction of Richard’s speech, or Mia’s desperate look, but the pharmacist suddenly gave in.
“All right,” he said with obvious reluctance. “Come back in fifteen minutes. Next?”
Richard and Mia exchanged a glance. “Excellent, old chap, thanks,” Richard said and he and Mia left, acknowledging the waiting girls with a grin.
Charisse began explaining her stomach woes to the pharmacist while Kate and Marika turned their attention to the candy display.
“Sweetie Pies,” Marika exclaimed with delight. Turning to Kate, she explained, “they are thin chocolate shells filled with the most delicious, soft fluffy vanilla marshmallow stuff. I’m buying the lot!”
Kate laughed. “Okay, Ms. Sweetie Pie, you get those and then I want to pick up a sandwich. My stomach feels better and I’m starving!”
“Stupid bleedin’ wanker,” Mia muttered to Richard as soon as they left the pharmacy. “And I mean you, ducky, not him. I told you we should have got more when we were in London, but no, you ’ad to do it your way as per bleedin’ usual.” Her face settled into petulant lines, her thin lips pressed tight.
Richard ran his fingers through his short ginger hair. “Whatever, Mia, whatever. I’m not going to argue with you. Remember, we’re here to have fun okay? We’re here to make all our fantasies come true, okay?” He put his arm around her and jiggled her. He was so tall that she fitted neatly under his arm. “Come on,” he said kissing the top of her fine blonde hair, “put on your party face, we’ve worked so hard to get here, right?”
She grunted in reply, not ready to forgive him. “Would of been fucked without it, yeah? Could of ruined everyfing.”
“We would have made a plan,” Richard said with confidence, “you know that. When have we ever not? Come on Mia, have I ever let you down?”
She sighed and relaxed into him. “Yeah, okay. Anyway,” she poked him in the ribs, “you don’t need to tell me why we’re ’ere, whose idea was all of this anyway, sweet cheeks? Mine. Oy, you don’t think Charisse and them heard us do you?”
“Sod it if they did.” Richard was cheerful, encouraged by her improved mood. “I can’t help it if my girlfriend’s a neurotic wreck who needs her happy pills, can I now?”
They both laughed. “We may as well stock up on a couple of other things we might need,” Richard said. “We’ve got most of what we need but it doesn’t hurt to have extra. There’s the other party equipment
we’ll need, but we’ll pick that up later, we’ve got time.”
“I love it when you talk dirty,” Mia linked her arm through his. “Lead the way, Macduff.”
Kate and Marika went outside and Marika showed Eva and Lena her purchases while Kate joined Gisela who was standing alone, smoking a cigarette under a palm tree and watching Mia laughing with Jasmine.
“Hello,” Kate said. “I’m glad to say I’m finally feeling a bit better. I’m never drinking like that again, I felt poisoned all morning. I’ve got no idea how Jasmine and Mia do it.”
“I’d say they do it often,” Gisela said. She sighed.
“What’s wrong?” Kate asked.
“I guess I’m lonely.” Gisela admitted and she pushed her sunglasses up her freckled nose. “It’s been so long since I’ve been with anybody in any kind of real way. I thought I was used to being by myself but right now I wish I had somebody to share this with. Why can’t I find someone? It took me years to get over my last relationship catastrophe but I did and I thought I was ready to move on, ready for the next love but there was nothing waiting. I failed at online dating too, though I tried so hard, with men and women and no one, not one person was right for me.”
“My heart’s still too broken for me to feel lonely,” Kate said. “I can’t imagine being with anyone except Cam. I say be happy you’re not currently in a state of actual heartbreak. I’d trade with you,” she joked and Gisela laughed and ground out her cigarette.
“Putting it like that, I do feel better. And I mean really, this is a dream come true, being in Africa and here I am, feeling sorry for myself! Thanks, Kate. Let’s join the others. What is Richard doing, climbing up onto the roof of the bus?”
Treasure and Jono arrived with armfuls of groceries. Both turned to look at Richard who was inspecting the roof.
“When we’re in the desert,” Richard enquired, suspended on the ladder, “can we travel on the top of Mandoza the bus?”
Jono shook his head. “Out of the question, my friend. That would be too dangerous indeed. Anyway, you will see the whole world through your window and that way I can send you back to your family in one recognizable piece.”
The Witchdoctor's Bones Page 4
