Kate got up and went around to them. “I can’t be bothered to yell anymore,” she said, her mouth close to Eva’s ear. “Can I get the key to our room? I’m going to go back to the lodge to have a shower and go to bed.”
“Oy! You’re tickling my ear. Here’s the key. Are you okay to walk back by yourself?”
“Fine. Have fun, party girls.”
She waved goodbye to Jono and the others and made her way outside, enjoying the fresh, cool air and the quiet of being alone.
Back at the restaurant, Jono ordered an Irish coffee. “Double whiskey and only a small amount of cream,” he told the waiter.
“What are you drinking there?” a flirtatious voice giggled in his ear. He jumped, and turned to see Ellie.
“Ellie, I am drinking an Irish coffee. Would you like to try it?”
“Yes,” she slurred.
“I see you have been enjoying yourself,” he said, thinking he might end up having to carry her back to the lodge.
“A wonderful time! We’re going dancing soon, will you come with us?” She wrapped her arms around his neck, dangling her body against his and against his better judgment, he was instantly aroused. He told himself that it was that accumulation of his desire for Kate and he untangled himself.
“Here,” he offered her the glass. “Try some but be careful, it is very hot and it is strong.”
“There is nothing I can’t handle,” Ellie declared drunkenly.
“Hmmm,” Jono kept his hand on the glass in case she dropped it.
“Ow. It’s hot. Why didn’t you tell me it was hot?” Ellie giggled. “It’s like a hot toddy when you have a bad fever. Do you feel sick? Can I make you feel better?” She put her hand on his forehead and stroked his face in a clumsy childish way.
Jono looked around in desperation. He had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he had not noticed the group getting increasingly drunk. Enrique and Eva were howling with laughter, their heads close together while Jasmine and Gisela were lining up another round of shots. Stepfan, with a sour expression, was watching Lena giggle and take sips of Gisela’s drink. Treasure had her arm around Harrison’s neck and she was whispering in his ear with Harrison loving every moment.
Jono turned around to see what Rydell was up to but Rydell had vanished leaving a small pile of money on the table. Jono’s first thought was for Kate’s safety but he remembered Rydell’s promise never to hurt her and he believed him.
He decided to leave the party to its madness and visit some friends; stay with them for the night. He needed a respite from all the goings-on and he would tell his friends everything that happened. Maybe they could help him figure out what to do if anything else popped up, which he was certain it would.
He pulled Ellie off him and made his way over to Treasure. “Treasure,” he caught her attention with difficulty, “listen to me for a moment. Are you listening?”
“Yebo, Jono, I’m listening carefully. What do you want? Talk fast. I’m busy.”
“Yes, I can see that. I am happy to see you having fun. I am going to stay with Betty for the night. You can have the room all to yourself and perhaps a friend if you like.”
“Haw Jono!” Treasure got up and flung her arms around him. “You’re a good man, Jono. A great man.”
“Why do you hug my woman?” Harrison demanded.
“She is hugging me,” Jono said, “but here, you may have her back.”
He sat Treasure back down next to Harrison and she whispered in his ear and a look of delight crossed his face.
“Let’s go,” he shot to his feet and tossed a bunch of cash on the table.
“Goodnight people,” he said and he and Treasure pushed their way through the crowd, laughing so hard they could hardly walk.
Jono turned to find Ellie once again attached to him and he thought she was like seaweed in a dam. Once it got its grip, it did not let go until it drowned you. He slipped out of her embrace and rushed away before she could follow.
“Aw, you’re no fun,” she yelled after him.
“Ellie,” Stepfan called her, “come and sit here, next to me, I’ll take very good care of you.”
Lena gave an unladylike snort. “Said the wolf to Red Riding Hood,” she remarked, drawing patterns in the spilt salt on the rumpled tablecloth.
“You’re talking to me now?” Stepfan said. “Too late. I don’t care. I’m going to have some fun. Come here, Ellie,” he repeated as she wove her way over to his side of the table.
“What you deserve…” Gisela began but Lena put her hand on Gisela’s arm and shook her head.
“I don’t care, Gili,” she said.
“If you don’t care Leni, then I don’t either.” Gisela said, “although…”
Lena patted her arm “No althoughs tonight, we’re having too much fun.”
“More shots, more shots,” Jasmine shouted.
“Yes, more shots.” Enrique and Eva cried.
“Marry me,” Enrique handed Eva a ring he had fashioned by dismantling the bread basket. “Be my wife and have ten babies.”
Eva collapsed in merriment. “Ten babies? When will I have time to be a poet?”
Enrique gave her a beautiful smile and shrugged. “Babies are better than poems. Babies are poems,” he declared, throwing his arms out wide and narrowly missing the waiter.
The manager appeared at the table. “It’s high time you guys took the party somewhere else.”
“Now you arrive!” Sofie shouted. “All night long we wait for service, we wait for drinks, we wait for food, we wait for the bill, and only when we finally start to have a good time, does anybody come and then it is to tell us to move on.”
Helen tried to quieten Sofie down but Sofie was having none of it. “Just like everything in life,” she shouted. “You have to make noise to get your way. I want to tell them what I think. I am tired of being quiet.” She continued to rant at the top of her lungs.
“Okay, enough already, please pay up immediately and leave,” the manager said, his accent thick with Afrikaans, his bearded face unamused, “or I will have you escorted out.”
“I’m paying for her and me,” Helen quickly put the money down. “We’ll meet the rest of you outside.”
The others paid up and followed, trying to contain themselves. When they finally got outside, they doubled over with laughter.
“My stomach hurts from laughing,” Lena said. “Are we going dancing or what?”
“Yes, but where?” Gisela lit a cigarette. “We don’t want to end up on the wrong side of town.”
“I don’t think Swakopmund’s big enough to have a wrong side,” Lena commented.
“There’s always a wrong side,” Jasmine said, peering down the main street where the streetlights did little to illuminate the dark alleys. She missed Mia and felt a little stung at being so unceremoniously ditched by her friend, even although the evening was turning out to be a great one.
“I’m going to ask the security man at the restaurant where we should go,” Helen said and she darted back into the restaurant, returning a few minutes later.
“There’s a club down the road, to the right. He said once we get Sofie in, no one will notice the noise she’s making, but he wishes us luck in actually getting her in.”
“What noise?” Sofie grumbled. “I am merely conversing with my good friends.” She lurched off.
“Hang on there,” Helen grabbed her arm, “no walking in the middle of the street.”
Behind them, Stepfan was trying to convince Ellie to go to a hotel with him.
“But I want to go dancing,” she objected, pulling away from him. “Mia said we were going dancing. Where is she? She promised.”
“One drink at this hotel right here,” Stepfan pointed, “and after that we will go dancing.”
Ellie glanced up. “I
don’t like that hotel,” she said sulkily. “All that horrible gold and red, it looks like a whorehouse. I’m not going in there, I’m going dancing with the others.” She tugged her arm free of his vise-like grasp and ran up to Sofie and Helen.
“Stepfan wants me to go to that horrible hotel with him,” she said, “but I want to go dancing with you, is that alright?”
“Absolutely,” Helen told her. “In fact that’s an order, young Ellie.”
“Aye aye, Captain,” Ellie saluted Helen. “Yes ma’am. That’s an order.” She skipped ahead and Helen turned to Stepfan, her expression one of sheer disgust.
He shrugged, then turned and headed toward the hotel that he had pointed out to Ellie.
Stepfan walked quickly through the red and gold carpeted reception area and was struck dumb to see Rydell at the bar, in deep conversation with a tall dusky woman with an exotic hairstyle.
Stepfan approached them and saw a dozen reflections of himself in the mirrored baroque walls. “Hello Rydell,” he said, smiling, “and who is your lovely lady friend?”
“None of your business,” Rydell said, “and she’s my friend. Go and get your own.”
Rydell clutched the woman’s hand and led her to a private booth. “Allow me to buy you another drink,” he stuttered and he blushed, “and I apologize for my rudeness back there.” His lips twisted with his odd, wet smile. “I don’t like to share.”
The woman laughed. “I don’t mind sharing but if you want me all to yourself, that’s also fine by me.” She adjusted a drape of sheer bronze fabric across her shoulder and downed the glass of the cheap champagne that Rydell had bought her.
“I don’t like sharing,” Rydell repeated, and put his nose close to the large amber crystal buried between the woman’s plump breasts, “but I do like other things.” He reached for the necklace, twisted it tight and pulled her towards him. “Tell me, are you strong enough to make a bad boy feel good? Because I’ve been a naughty little boy, and I need to be punished. Can you do that or are you too pretty?”
She took his chin in her hand in a way that left him in no doubt and he sighed with relief.
Back at the bar, Stepfan had a hard time making up his mind who to choose and he silently thanked his wife for being a bitch and for giving him his freedom, and he settled back to enjoy the party of the century.
“Hey there, gorgeous lady,” he said to a leggy bronze-skinned, blonde-wigged Lolita, “let’s have some fun, what do you say?”
There was a moment, shortly after she left the restaurant, that Kate was delighted to be alone. The cool night was refreshing and she savoured the ocean-scented air, glad to be on her way back to the lodge and it was only after she had turned off the main street that she began to feel uneasy. She quickly dismissed her fears as a reaction to the silence around her after the noise of the restaurant. Nevertheless, she walked faster, pulling her sweater tightly around her. She strained to hear if there were any other footsteps and while she could not hear anything, she could not shake the feeling that something was very wrong. Her heart began to pound and she told herself not to panic, not to run.
The wide street leading down to the lodge was devoid of movement except for the flitting shadows of the tall palm trees that swayed in the breeze. The only sounds were the rustle of the leaves and the clacking of a tin can as the wind kicked it down the hill. The amber pub windows glowed but gave no comfort and the locked-up houses were dark and tucked far away behind bougainvillea-covered wrought iron fences.
Kate tasted fear, bit her lip and stared straight ahead. She told herself to stop scaring herself with foolish thoughts, told herself she was frightening herself for no good reason.
But just as she was convinced there was nothing lurking in the shadows, that it was all in her imagination, a boy of about eighteen stepped directly in front of her.
Kate gave a quick harsh grunt of fear and the sound held in her throat. She knew from what Helen and Marika had told her that these boys had nothing to lose; he could kill her for twenty rand and feel nothing for it.
“Madam must not be afraid,” the boy said, talking softly, with his hands in the pockets of his cheap tan jacket. “I am Dumi, from the market, do you remember me? You did not buy anything but you said you would come back later and I waited and waited but you did not return. That is not polite, Madam.” He looked at her, his eyes small in a narrow face, his lips thin, his chin sharp and pointed.
She did remember him. When she stopped to look back at Helen, Dumi had thrust a carved wooden bowl at her, shouting. She did not recall saying anything to him, she only remembered her fear and that she had wanted to be as far away from the market as possible.
“I’m sorry, Dumi,” she said, stepping around him and walking fast. “I didn’t buy anything from anyone today, but I’m going to come back and buy from you tomorrow. Remind me,” she said, conversationally, “what did you have at your stall?”
The boy was lanky and his trousers were too short; a length of gray sock was showed and his shoes were that of a businessman, only cracked and old. “Madam, I have bowls and big spoons. You liked the bowl with the lions drinking at the edge, do you remember?” He kept his hands in his pockets and matched her stride for stride.
“I do,” she said, “but do you have any other kind of bowls?”
“Yes, Madam, I have ivory bowls and the green soapstone ones.”
“Hmm,” Kate said. “I would worry that the soapstone one would be too heavy for me to carry all the way back home.” She wanted to keep him talking. “How much was the ivory bowl?”
“It was three hundred rand, Madam.”
“Ah.” Kate saw the lodge come into view, “Well, Dumi, that’s a lot of money. Tell me, what’s the best price you can give me? Because I can’t pay three hundred.”
“What is Madam’s best price?” he asked. “You tell me and we will negotiate.”
“Let me think.” She picked up her pace. “How about two hundred?”
“Oh no, Madam, that is too low. Two hundred and seventy.”
“Two hundred and thirty?”
“Two hundred and fifty, Madam, is as low as I can go.”
“What is that in U.S. dollars?” Kate fervently wished the lodge would miraculously rush up towards her.
“Divide it by seven, so just over thirty dollars.”
“That is a good price,” Kate agreed and she quickened her pace even more.
The side door to the lodge pub was open and a wonderful warm light spilled out and with it, the noise of people laughing and talking. Kate had made sure she was on Dumi’s right and, ready for this moment, she dove through the door and quickly ran into the milling crowd who were drinking tequila shots from a wall-mounted springbok’s rear end, and licking salt off its balls. Kate, leaning against the bar counter, was never been more delighted to watch inane drunken activities in her life.
Outside, Dumi was furious. “Madam,” he called repeatedly into the crowd until one of the local white men shouted at him to stop.
“Hey, you, boy, voetsak! How many times must we tell you not to hassle the tourists? Do you want to go to jail, is that what you are want? I recognize you, boy, now get lost or I’ll come out there and help you.”
Dumi shot off into the night and the man turned to Kate but she had left. Her heart still racing, she practically ran to the room, scrambling to find the key and locking herself inside. She made sure the windows were locked and she closed the curtains. She checked the washrooms, the one with the broken shower and the one with the broken toilet.
“Area secured,” she said aloud, sinking down against the frame of the bunk bed. Sitting among the comforting holiday mess, she began to feel better.
“That was so stupid.” She took deep breaths. “I could have ended up a statistic. I’ll never be careless like that again. The first thing I’m going to do tomorrow is buy someth
ing to protect myself. I won’t be caught off guard like that again.”
She saw Marika’s bottle of Old Brown Sherry sticking out of a bag and she helped herself to a few generous swigs to help calm her nerves.
Then she had a long hot shower. Her heart was still beating fast.
Kate’s sleep was disturbed by the drunken arrival of the rest of the gang. She could hear them fumbling for their key and she jumped down off her bed and let them in. “You do look worse for wear,” she said, “that must have been some party. Eva, you’re pale as a ghost.”
Eva groaned and crawled facedown onto her bed.
“I see,” Kate was amused. “Marika and Helen, you’re the only sober ones. I guess it would be safe to say that a good time was had?”
Helen laughed. “Yes, it was fun. Now listen up all of you, there’s only one toilet, so if you are going to get sick, do not do it in the toilet that doesn’t work. Eva, do you hear me?”
Eva gave a muffled moan.
“Good,” Helen said. “Ladies, if you need me to get trash cans ready for you to throw up in, let me know now.”
“Eugh. This is so gross.” Kate climbed back into bed. “Too much information. I’m going to back to sleep.”
A series of groaned apologies rose up to her.
In Swakopmund
THE NEXT MORNING KATE SLEPT IN and woke to find that the others had as well. She rolled over and squinted at her watch. It was nearly 9:00 a.m., but the bed felt wonderful and she snuggled back down. After her fright with Dumi the previous night, she was glad to be safely surrounded by the familiar gang. She decided once again that she needed to arm herself with some kind of protection. She dozed for a while but the sunshine outside was too tempting and she slid down off her bed.
Marika sat up slowly, looking like a startled sparrow, her hair sticking up in all directions. “I should get up too,” she said, lying back down, “but my bed feels too good.”
Kate grinned at her. “Then you should enjoy it,” she whispered. She dressed quickly, grabbed her camera bag and left, closing the door quietly behind her. She contemplated grabbing breakfast on her way out but could not be bothered. She made for the beach and enjoyed a long walk, with the blue-green waves curving high and crashing down hard beside her. The sea seemed so energized and powerful compared to the deep still lakes of Ontario. Kate studied the strength of the frenzied water and tested the frothy white foam of the Atlantic Ocean with her fingertips, but Jono was right, the water was freezing.
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