The Witchdoctor's Bones

by Lisa de Nikolits

  Kate laughed. “Talk about mad dogs and Englishmen. It’s over 40 degrees. Are you both crazy?”

  “Surfing the high wave of Vitamin D,” Richard shaded his face with his hand to look up at her.

  “Must soak it up while we can,” Mia said in a muffled voice. She was lying on her stomach with her forehead on her crossed arms and her pale skin was turning a painful scarlet.

  “What a Casanova not, eh?” Richard said to Kate, nodding over at Stepfan. “Really thinks he’s Mr. Charming but what I find unfathomable is why a girl like Charisse laps it up like she does.”

  “Low self-esteem and daddy issues,” Mia said, raising her head off her arms, with deep towel creases on her forehead. “She tarts her body around, finking she doesn’t deserve love so she takes it wherever it’s offered. Odds are she was abused when she was little, and she probably hates herself for the fings she does but she’s addicted to getting attention and she’s got no bleedin’ idea of what love really is.”

  “Thank you, Nurse Teller,” Richard said. “I can always rely on you.”

  “You’re a nurse?” Kate could not have been more surprised. She was surprised by the focus with which Mia had offered up the diagnosis. Kate was used to tipsy Mia, out-of-control, party girl; this somewhat-articulate persona was new and unexpected.

  “Yeah, but a psychiatric nurse, not a blood and guts one,” Mia rolled over and lay on her back. “For pete’s sake, don’t tell anyone. Once people hear you’re a nurse, they’re full of a thousand bleedin’ aches and pains they want you to fix and truth is I don’t give a flying sparrow’s fart about their crap, I’m on holiday.”

  “I understand,” Kate leaned on the white wrought-iron fence. “Gisela told us she’s a sports therapist and next thing, Helen asked her to look at her knee. But enough sun for me, my poor little Canadian brain’s boiling. See you later.”

  She walked back to the cool quiet of the old Colonial-style washrooms. She loved the chunky round-handled faucets, the silvered mirrors speckled with age spots and the uneven mosaic countertops. She was trying to find the best angle for a shot of the curtains fluttering above the old-fashioned cisterns when she heard a familiar laugh.

  “Why am I not surprised,” Eva said, resting against the toilet door, her red and black Mickey Mouse towel wrapped around her waist. “Everyone’s at the swimming pool, eating ice cream and sun tanning and where are you? In the toilet, taking photographs.”

  “It’s a dirty job but someone’s gotta do it.” Kate grinned.

  Eva ducked into the washroom stall emerging a few minutes later to wash her hands. “You’ll have to excuse me my friend, I actually have to use one of these. What on earth are you photographing anyway?”

  “The plug hole,” Kate was bent over the basin, “Look at the shape of it, Eva, it’s a work of art I tell you.”

  “A masterpiece. But I must drag you away from your Picasso plug hole or you’ll be late for the Fish River Canyon walk.”

  “It’s more like a Salvador Dali plug hole…” Kate started to say and they both laughed.

  “This is me in front of the Fish River Canyon, the second biggest canyon in the world,” Sofie announced.

  Rydell hovered at the edge of the canyon. “If you fuh-fell down there, you would die.” he stuttered. He seemed upset, more distracted than usual and kept tugging and adjusting his clothing.

  “Try not to put it to the test old chap,” Richard said, peering down into the canyon. “The view’s certainly incredible but not nearly as incredible as how fantastic that swim felt. This is magnificent and all that and I hope none of you think I’m a stick in the mud, but I’m getting a bit tired of this dust. I wouldn’t have minded hanging about the pool for the whole afternoon, wallowing in the glorious hydration aspects of it all.”

  “Oy, me too,” Mia groaned. “I’m tired of this walking, I want to lie next to the pool and get quietly pissed.”

  “Not your style my love,” commented Richard, “the quiet bit I mean.”

  She punched his shoulder playfully.

  “Ouch,” he objected, “my sunburn.”

  “I also wish we were swimming instead,” Jasmine said and Ellie, Charisse, and Bree quickly agreed.

  Gisela and Lena had strolled up ahead, with Stepfan and Harrison setting off at a run, racing to see who could make it back to the bus in the fastest time.

  “Let’s hotfoot it back to the bus,” Richard said, “and suggest to the others that we don’t hang about for the sunset but go back and swim instead?”

  “Yes,” Rydell shouted, “let’s get back to the camp as soon as we can.” He set off at a run, his jerky style causing a contradiction of movements, his arms and legs wind-milling at odds with each other.

  “Mad as a hatter, poor chap,” Richard said, watching him and he turned back to his little party. “All in favour of getting this over with say ‘aye’.”

  “Aye,” they all hooted loudly and they set off at a fast pace.

  Kate, Eva and Marika looked at one other.

  “Do you think they’ll leave without us?” Eva asked, “because I for one am not rushing this.”

  “Me neither,” Enrique appeared from behind a large pile of rocks, where he had been photographing a tiny cluster of desert flowers.

  “I’m with you,” Sofie said, climbing up from a ledge.

  “Me too,” Helen said, back from a short run to explore the opposite trail.

  “Then,” Enrique said, “let’s do this our way and enjoy every moment.”

  They took their time and watched the darkening light wash the canyon valleys with dark paint, and as the world turned away from the sun, the earth glowed a fiery, brilliant red.

  The Fourth Night

  “DID YOU HAVE A GOOD TIME?” Treasure asked when they returned. “I made a South African favourite for supper: Curried Pilchard Macaroni Bake, to give you lots of energy after that exercise.”

  Charisse groaned loudly.

  “I don’t think my stomach could handle anything as heavy as pasta with fish. Treasure, I’ll just have a piece of toast if you don’t mind.”

  Jasmine rounded on her. “Pasta’s one of the best foods for you. You’ve got it wrong.”

  “I don’t comment on what you eat, so back off.” Charisse did not want to admit that her stomach was hurting more than ever and that she was hardly able to eat a thing. She hated being sick, hated being the centre of attention that illness brought, and she hated appearing to be vulnerable in any way. She was determined not to let the pain interfere with the hot romance between her and Stepfan, and she hoped the annoying virus, or whatever it was, would work its way out of her system soon.

  “It’s none of your business, what she eats.” The generally quiet Brianna spoke up in Charisse’s defence. “Just leave her alone.”

  “I’m entitled to my opinion,” Jasmine countered but Treasure intervened.

  “Stop fighting, all of you,,” Treasure said. “Charisse, I will make you some toast.”

  Charisse thanked her and glared at Jasmine who returned the look.

  “Wash your hands, remember to wash your hands.” Harrison called out. He had stayed behind at the camp to prepare supper with Treasure, much to Rydell’s anguish and Treasure’s dismay. Rydell had only noticed that Harrison was missing when they were on the bus heading for the canyon and it was too late for him to change his mind and stay too.

  “There are two bowls here,” Harrison said, “one is for washing your hands with soap and the other is for rinsing your hands, and there is a hand towel that must be used for nothing except the handwashing. There is also hand sanitizer next to the hand towel but that is optional. People, please get into a line to wash your hands.”

  “Harrison’s a bleedin’ freak show,” Mia whispered to Richard who nodded. “I’m going to get my cardy,” she said and she headed off to
their tent with Richard in tow.

  “I’m so pissed off,” she hissed at him, digging through her bag for her sweater. “They ruined it, those bleedin’ nature freaks. We had to wait there for bleedin’ hours and we lost out on our swim. I’m so angry I could spit.” She was shaking with anger and close to tears.

  “Sssh,” Richard pulled her close, hugged her and patted her back.

  “I know you’re upset, love, but you have got to remember the real reason we are here. It’s not to swim or look at animals or say the desert’s so lovely or get a tan or any of those things. Don’t lose focus, this is all part and parcel of what we have to do to get what we want right? This is our dream, remember?”

  He put his arm around her, and stroked her tangled hair. “Come now, my little chickadee, I know you’re tired of this fucked-up flock of tossers, of the dust, the heat, the crappy food, the endless hours on the bus, oh, that nightmare of a bus, God, could they have got anything cheaper, hotter or more noisy? I don’t think so. I’m so over it too — taking those ancient bloody tents up and down, having inane conversations and giving shit-eating grins all the time. At least Jono’s got some interesting stuff to say, he’s an unexpected treat.”

  “Argggh. I’m sick of him too.” Mia wailed. “Those bleedin’ lessons, it’s like I’m back at school or something. I hate it.”

  “Ssssh. I know you’re tired but keep fantasizing because it will all be worth it, I promise you. Now, we should get back to the others.”

  “Richard luv, hang on a mo’, don’t go yet,” Mia’s voice was suddenly small. “I’ve got to tell you somefing.” She hesitated briefly and gave a shuddering breath. “I’m preggers.”

  Richard stopped dead, then he swung around quickly and came up close to her. “What the fuck?” he whispered, his breath hot on her face. “How the fuck did that happen, you stupid tart? That’s your area to take care of, and you fuck it up. And now? Like now’s the time? Oh fuck. Oh you stupid, stupid cow.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his face. “Are you sure?” he asked her through gritted teeth.

  She nodded. “I got some test thingies in Springbok. I’m sorry, I really am, I don’t know how it ’appened. I can’t have it taken care of when we get home, it’ll be too late. I even thought maybe we could get it seen to here but we don’t stop in any of the towns for long enough.”

  “We can’t do anything here, too dangerous by far,” Richard said, shortly. “We can’t have you out of action if anything goes wrong.” He thought for a moment while his mind raced to compute the unexpected problem.

  “Fucking preggers. And you think your mum’s going to raise this one too, do you? I don’t think so. We were lucky she took Moira off our hands, not that she had much choice, you being fourteen would have made a great mum, yeah?”

  “I said I was sorry, didn’t I? And you can’t blame me for Mo.” She looked away. “Richard,” she said, her voice still small. “You could do it. You know you could. You could take care of getting rid of it.”

  He went white and shuddered. “Not a chance in hell, Mia. Are you crazy?”

  “I trust you. I’d trust you with my life. I know you could do it.”

  “Well, stop thinking about it because I can’t and I won’t.” He fell silent, thinking.

  “We’ll stick to the game plan,” he said, staring into the dark bush and scratching his chin. A few minutes later, he added, “Ignore the little fucker, pretend like it doesn’t exist, right?”

  Then he turned back to Mia. “Here’s the torch,” he said, holding it out to her. “Go to the little girl’s room, fix your hair and wash your face. You look a right tart. Go, get cleaned up, come and get some supper. And when you get back, remember, proper jolly, right? No sniveling or nothing, you’re Mia party animal, keep it up, keep smiling, remember what you came here to do, yeah?”

  “You’d better watch yourself there, laddie.” Mia’s voice was cold. “Your accent’s slipping.” She snatched the torch from him. “I’ll go and fix me face while you stand here and try to find your hoity-toity self, that sound good to you, Dickyboy?”

  She marched off into the darkness and he heard her crash and curse her way through the trees, her light fading as she walked away.

  The rest of the group dutifully washed their hands according to Harrison’s instructions and piled their plates high.

  “The pasta is delicious,” Jasmine called out to Treasure, shooting a look at Charisse who ignored her.

  Rydell kept staring at Treasure, his lips moving as if he was talking to himself.

  Lena watched Charisse, eyeing her water bottle, her eyes narrowed and her senses sharp. Much to her frustration, and not for lack of trying, she had not found an opportunity to slip a piece of the poisonous bush into the girl’s water.

  Treasure, meanwhile, dished up the food, thinking about the phone message she had finally received. She was on her own with her growing baby. There would be no help coming from her married white man.

  “Good evening, everybody!” Jono said, the whites of his eyes bright in the light of the campfire. “And how is everybody tonight?”

  “Good, thank you,” the chorus came back.

  The fire pit was a small area ringed with curved wooden benches and the group squeezed together, balancing tin plates on their laps, with smoke from the fire whipping and blowing around their heads. The logs crackled and popped with sparks and the low hanging acacia branches kept the circle enclosed.

  “Excellent. Now I must warn you that we have a very long, very tough drive ahead tomorrow. I want you to be prepared for it and we must leave early. We are going to Siesriem which is near to Sossuvlei, the heart of the Namib Desert and is a most special place. The day after tomorrow there is a guided walk there, with Thaalu, who is a very knowledgeable Bushman and I hope that you will all join him.”

  “How much is the walk?” Stepfan asked, attacking his food with noisy enjoyment.

  “It is more expensive than the one with Kleine Skok because it also pays the entrance fee for Sossusvlei and a portion of the money goes towards the Bushmen such as Thaalu who look after it there. It is 180 rand per person,” Jono said.

  “That’s ridiculous.” Stepfan scraped his plate with his fork.

  “For heaven’s sake, Stepfan,” Kate objected, “that’s not even $25 and this is one of the highlights of the trip. I’m in for sure.”

  “Neither Lena or I are going.” Stepfan said, picking his teeth. “It should be free, part of the trip.”

  “I’ll do it,” Harrison decided.

  “And me,” Rydell echoed. Treasure had disappeared and he was not sure if she was gone for the night. His need to talk to her was becoming unbearable and he scratched hard at his arms knowing he was drawing blood but that the darkness would hide his secret.

  “I’ve got dessert for everyone,” Jasmine said eagerly. “I got ingredients for smores for us at that little store we stopped at.”

  “Smores?” Gisela asked. “What are smores?”

  “It’s a campfire tradition,” Ellie explained. “You toast a marshmallow, put it between two crackers and add chocolate. It’s sort of like a dessert sandwich.”

  “I thought smores were Canadian, not Australian?” Kate asked.

  “Nah, we’ve got them too. Maybe we borrowed them from you lot. I’ll go and get the stuff, you guys get the sticks ready,” Jasmine rushed off to her tent.

  “Rydell,” Ellie asked suddenly, “have you ever tried a smore?”

  Rydell looked up, not pleased to have been drawn into the conversation. “No,” he said shortly, swatting wildly at a small mosquito. “I haven’t.”

  “Then I will have to come and sit next to you and show you how to do it,” Ellie was being unmistakably flirtatious.

  The others looked at her in surprise. Quiet, little Ellie had woken up but those famili
ar with Rydell’s eccentricities could not understand her sudden interest and neither could Rydell who could not even remember her name and thought she was like a bony, graceless moth. He was focused on Treasure, trying to will her to return to the group and now he had big moth-girl in his face. He scowled.

  Jasmine returned. “I’ll go first and show you how it’s done, then help yourselves.”

  “When will we be getting a full moon, Jono?” Richard asked. “I hear there’s all kind of magic and power associated with an African moon.”

  “Full moon in two days. And yes, the moon is very important to African people. It is said that the King of the Universe gave the earth, and all the people in it, to the moon and when the Sun arrived, he was so furious that he burnt the moon’s face, which is why she still looks ashen to this day. But some say the moon and the sun are lovers and that when the moon vanishes for three days, she is with the sun, making love.”

  “Whimsical,” Helen said, casting a glance at Richard and wondering where Mia was. She had noticed that Mia had been uncharacteristically quiet during supper and seemed to be in a bit of a disheveled state but then again, Mia was always a mess; she had to be the sloppiest, most untidy person Helen had ever known. Which was not true, and Helen’s heart sank at the unwelcome reminder of her mother but rather than think about that, she looked over at Richard who also seemed distracted, as if he was making an effort to be jolly when it was not how he really felt.

  Helen hoped there was trouble in paradise. She would love nothing more than to return to Cape Town with Richard on her arm, and find a way to bump into Robbie. She had reread Robbie’s emails dozens of times and the bitterness she felt towards him was so strong it was like bile in her mouth. And while she had tried to insinuate herself into Richard’s awareness at every possible instance, he hardly seemed to notice her.

  “It’s very lovely to think of the moon and the sun as lovers,” Gisela said and Lena, sitting next to her, agreed. Stepfan looked up and glared at both of them.