The Witchdoctor's Bones

Home > Other > The Witchdoctor's Bones > Page 31
The Witchdoctor's Bones Page 31

by Lisa de Nikolits


  “Cheers, love,” he said as she emptied a bucket of tap water on him.

  The others doused themselves with water and crawled to their camping chairs in similar fashion.

  “Lunch is ready, everybody,” Betty said.

  “Richard,” Mia said, “would you mind getting my burger for me? I feel a bit pale.”

  “Of course, my love,” Richard stood up.

  Lena went over to Mia while the others formed a line for their burgers. “Are you okay?” Lena asked, “you don’t seem well.”

  “I lost the baby this morning,” Mia said in an undertone. “It probably didn’t like doing the Marula last night, poor bugger. Oh, well. It’s not like it was planned or anyfing, so it’s probably for the best. I do feel pooped though and I’ve got a headache the size of a brick shithouse but that could just be a hangover. This bleedin’ road doesn’t help much. Don’t worry, I’ll be right as rain soon, ta for asking though.”

  Lena was about to say something but Richard returned and Mia shut her down with a look and Lena went to get her burger, piling it high with every relish and condiment on the table.

  “And how do you plan to eat your leaning Tower of Burger?” Gisela asked her affectionately.

  “With a lot of mess.” Lena laughed, balancing her plate carefully on her knees.

  “After lunch,” Jono announced abruptly, apparently still in a bad mood, “we will go on a game drive, which will take us right to Okaukuejo where we will arrive this afternon. We might get a lot of rain tonight and if not tonight, then tomorrow night for sure.”

  “Are our tents waterproof?” Kate looked up the sky which was amassing heavy dark purple clouds that made the colours of the day seem even more intense.

  “For the most part, yes,” Jono frowned at the question.

  “For the most part!” Ellie and Jasmine cried out. “That’s not very reassuring.”

  “Come on girls, don’t be afraid of a little African rain.” Stepfan puffed out his chest, “we’re tough here.”

  “I am reminded of short poem,” Jono said, leaning against the tree. “It is called The Big-Game Hunter and it goes like this:

  A big-game hunter opens fire once more,

  Raconteur, roué, sportsman, millionaire and bore—

  But he only shoots his mouth off, knowing how

  He’s safer on a sofa than on far safari now.

  Everyone found this hilarious.

  “What are you trying to say?” Stepfan demanded and he looked accusingly around.

  “I’ve got no idea,” Lena was doubled over in laughter, “since you’re certainly no millionaire.”

  Stepfan scowled and marched off to put his plate in the bucket.

  “You are very poetic, Jono,” Helen said, “If you don’t mind my asking, how come?”

  “Before I studied International Politics and Philosophy, I wanted to write poems that would change the world and free the black man from apartheid and slavery.” Jono said. “But my kind benefactor, a farmer in Zimbabwe, persuaded me to get a degree first. ‘Study first,’ he said, ‘you can write poems later,’ but then I got caught up fighting in the wars and poetry did not seem so important and my own poetic voice died. I still read a lot of poetry. But enough of that,” he said, washing his hands. “I’m sure you are eager to see the animals.”

  “Yes, yes, yes,” they chorused, each shouting out the name of the animal they wished to see: “zebra, lion, kudu, giraffe, elephant, hyena, meerkat, baboon, oryx, springbok, warthog, wildebeest, rhino, hippo, cheetah, leopard!”

  “They may be a little disappointed by the animals,” Jono said to Betty in the front cab.

  “They always are.” Betty told him, “you know that. No matter what they see, they want more, or different. You can’t win here, Jono. Don’t even try. You’re not responsible for their expectations.”

  “I always feel bad if they do not see some good things, even now when I am so cross with them.”

  Kate got her camera ready for the game to come and she thought about Jono’s poetic leanings and felt guilty for having fallen for André instead.

  But André was a doer, and independent by nature, and that attracted her. Jono, she felt, would wait for her to guide the relationship, hoping that her enthusiasm for life would enter his heart and soul by osmosis and that he would suddenly wake up a happier man. Jono was simply not for her. She tried not to think about it, craning her neck, and wanting to be the first to see wild game.

  “Giraffe!” Gisela screamed at the top of her lungs. “Stop the bus! Jono, giraffe!”

  Jono dragged the bus to a halt.

  “Here we go,” he said to Betty, “they will be yelling at me to stop for every springbok, dassie and tortoise from now until Windhoek.”

  They admired the giraffe for a while and then drove on, pulling up next to a watering hole.

  “Over there,” Jono shouted, pointing, “elephants, zebra, giraffe, springbok, warthog and wildebeest. That should keep them happy for a while,” he said aside to Betty.

  “Where are the lions?” Lena asked.

  “Hey, I have found a new function on my camera,” Sofie marvelled.

  “Can’t we get any closer?” Jasmine asked.

  “None of this is what I expected,” Ellie commented, “I thought it would be much more jungle-like.”

  “Oh, cute,” Mia sprawled back in her seat and flicked something off her thigh.

  “The elephants don’t seem all that big,” Richard craned to get a better look.

  “No rhino, no leopard?” Rydell asked nasally. “I’m disappointed.”

  “Disappointed?” Kate said, “I’m in heaven! Never mind the animals, they’re fantastic, but the whole scene: the colouring’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Black and white with shades of tan, gray and caramel. It’s spectacular and so different to what we’ve seen so far. Even the sky seems a deeper blue and those purple clouds are incredibly majestic.”

  “It’s very beautiful,” Gisela agreed, “you’re right.”

  They stayed at the water hole for half an hour and then the group began to get restless. Jono moved forward slowly, hoping to find a fresh lion kill in the middle of the road but nature did not oblige. He turned into Okaukuejo Etosha National Park and waved at familiar faces at the gate.

  Jono swung the bus into the camp site, climbed down and stretched his back. He felt as if he was covered in a dozen layers of sweat and caked in dust. All he wanted was a cool shower and a nice cold beer under the shade of a tree.

  The group fell into their usual routine of setting up for the night and Kate asked Jono to help her with her tent. “I’m getting better at this,” she said, “but it definitely takes two to put up these tents.”

  Jono nodded. He paused, then helped Kate with her tent in silence. He felt guilty about his earlier hateful thoughts but did not know how to make amends. “I better go now and help Mr. Tough Guy over there,” he said instead, gesturing at Stepfan who was standing waiting, not making any effort on his own.

  Kate thanked him and looked around; it was as if they were camping in the middle of an open sandy road. The bush was off in the distance, not like the Fish River Canyon where they had been in the thick of it. It also seemed liked they were the only people there and it seemed eerie, she thought, how deserted it all was.

  She turned around and noticed that her tent was lifting off the ground in the gusty wind and she ran to the bus to get her big water bottle to weigh it down. Strong surface winds whipped back and forth, and the dust swirled wildly, blowing the contents of the overturned trash cans across the ground. Kate darted to pick up the debris, her hair catching in her eyes and mouth and she felt stung by the sun, wind and heat.

  She decided to head toward the tourist shop and bumped into Sofie and the girls near the swimming pool.

  “We’re
going to check out the top of the tower,” Helen said, “and we’re thinking of doing yoga up there at sunset, it’s too hot now. Do you want to join our reconnaissance?”

  “Love to, thanks,” Kate said.

  They walked slowly in the thick afternoon heat to the tower. The stairs were narrow inside the dark passage and Kate went first, climbing quickly.

  “Wow,” she called out, “the view’s incredible.” Tiny insect-sized giraffes grazed at trees while the various colours of the desert earth and the tight acacia trees formed a patchwork blanket that spread out for miles.

  “You can see our camp,” Sofie leaned over. “There is our bus! It’s a tiny, dinky thing, and there’s the swimming pool, it looks really small too; this tower is very high.”

  “What a perfect place to do yoga,” Jasmine said. “We’ll fit fine.”

  “There might be some overlapping,” Helen said, and she frowned. “How many of us will there be?”

  Jasmine did a count. “Six, without Mia or Kate. Kate, are you sure you don’t want to do it?”

  “Absolutely sure,” Kate said vigorously. “We’ve been eating up the miles like nothing else, and I’d love to do a bit of nothing.”

  She did not want to admit that she had never done yoga. She realized then that her entire life had been about pleasing Cam, keeping her dead-end job, making her parents happy, and phoning Rachel. Without knowing what her future held, she knew for one thing for certain: that meagre existence was over.

  She waved goodbye to the yoga girls and headed back to the camp which was still eerily quiet. She could see Betty’s form moving in the kitchen area, a shadow behind the fly screens.

  Kate did some laundry, and lay down for a nap. It was stiflingly hot, and the scorching dry wind was still gusting hard. Jackals lurked everywhere and Kate could hear them nosing through the garbage cans. She found it hard to believe that she had initially thought they were cute; they were like horrible big rodent scavengers, dog-sized rats.

  Kate thought that her attempt at a nap might be futile when the next thing she knew it was 6:00 p.m and her alarm was beeping. She got up, groggy and disorientated and stepped outside. The sky was crayon slashes of orange and red, vivid, nearly violent. The hot wind continued to blow forcefully and the jackals were still searching through the garbage cans.

  Betty came out of the kitchen. “Dinner will be ready in two hours, everybody,” she called.

  “We’ll be here,” the yoga girls yelled back. They were on their way to the tower and Kate noticed an ignored Stepfan tagging along behing them.

  Kate walked down to the waterhole and was dismayed to find hordes of chattering tourists.

  “This camp is such a dive,” one woman proclaimed loudly. “I’m very happy we are not staying here overnight.”

  Kate felt suddenly restless and she decided to phone André. She dialled his number, her heart fluttering in her throat.

  “Sunshine,” he said, picking up on the first ring, “are you in one unbruised piece? How goes life on the bus of travelling horrors?”

  Kate laughed. “It’s all very zen as we speak,” she said, describing the yoga girls’ plan. “But why do people come to water holes and talk at the tops of their voices?” she asked, straining to hear him and André chuckled.

  “That’s because you are with the flotsam and jetsam of the game-viewing world. Now, if you were with me, I’d have you at an exclusive lodge, with only you and me in a lookout with a nice cold gin and tonic keeping us company. We’d watch the wonders of nature far from the madding crowd.”

  “What do you know about the madding crowd?” Kate was surprised.

  André gave a theatrical sigh. “Ah. She thinks I’m all brawn, no brain. I can think every now and then and you know, I can even read. Yes, not only can I, but I love to. Some days I lie on the couch and do nothing but read.”

  They continued to chat, and Kate was soon laughing and making as much noise as the others around her.

  Up in the tower, the girls had spread out their mats and had started with warm up stretches.

  “Let’s each do our own routine for a bit,” Helen suggested, “and after that, we’ll each take turns to lead. Even if we end up doing a position twice or more, that’s okay. Let’s take this slowly. We’ve been sitting for days, our muscles are tight and sore.”

  The others followed her advice; bending and stretching slowly, absorbed in the quiet, high above the camp. The wild crimson and orange sky turned gold and purple and diamond rays of white light fanned out from behind the thick, dark clouds. Deep in concentration, none of them took notice when Stepfan started vying for attention.

  He started to make small noises: grunts and moans. Then he lay down on Ellie’s mat.

  “Stepfan,” she asked, “what are you doing? Get your own mat. Get off mine.”

  “With the mats all together, there’s room,” Stepfan protested. “I hardly take up any space.”

  Ellie was not happy but she moved over.

  Lena threw a glance in Stepfan’s direction but he ignored her.

  Some minutes later, he broke the peaceful silence. “Try this,” he said to Sofie. He was on his side, doing a pushup on one arm.

  “No thanks,” Sofie replied, refusing to even look at him.

  “You’re angling your body wrongly,” he told Gisela.

  “She knows much more about this than you do!” Lena spoke up, despite her best intentions to not be baited by him. “Why do you always have to ruin everything? You’re such a know-it-all. And to think that for years, I really thought you did know it all. I listened to you, I believed you, I trusted you, your lies, your promises, your empty charm. Why are you here now, ruining our lovely time? You’re not welcome here! Why don’t you leave?”

  “This is my holiday too,” Stepfan retorted. “I’ll do as I please. Where I please and with whom I please.”

  “You already proved that.” Lena got up and went to him, her hand on her hip, one leg jutting forward. “How dare you behave like you did with Charisse? Who do you think you are to do that to me? How dare you?”

  Jasmine got up and joined Lena. The light was liquid gold in the sky, the clouds burst of violet, but no one noticed the beauty.

  “And,” Jasmine said quietly, “what gives you the right to judge me? You hateful, arrogant man, how dare you? You’ve judged me for my weight this entire trip, and you’ve said the most disgustingly, unforgivable things that no one in their right mind would think, never mind say.” She glared at him.

  “I have something to say too,” Ellie unfolded her bony limbs. “How dare you try to take me to that gross hotel to have sex when I was drunk? What kind of disgusting man are you? You sat at dinner across from your wife and hit on me.” Ellie, in a yellow tank top and purple shorts, looked like a tall, thin angry bumblebee.

  “You were asking for it,” Stepfan retorted. “If it wasn’t me you were going to have sex with that night, it would have been somebody else. You seem to have forgotten that you hit on Jono first, but he ran off like you had burnt him with a hot poker, and next thing you were on my lap. I just thought you would be more comfortable lying down on a nice hotel bed.”

  “You see!” Lena cried out, “even now you lie. Even now, the thoughts you have are beyond me. What kind of man even thinks the things you do?”

  “A sick, arrogant, deluded man,” Gisela came up closer, her eyes wide with anger and her nostrils flaring. “A man who needs to be taught a lesson.”

  “Here comes your butch lover to rescue you, Lena,” Stepfan sneered. “Poor little Lena, always needing to be rescued by a man of some kind. You’re welcome to her,” he said to Gisela. “She’s an old burden to me, of no use any more. Besides she has no respect.”

  “What did you say?” Helen joined the circle around Stepfan. He did not seem to realize he was alone, surrounded by a band of hostile an
d angry women.

  Stepfan turned his back to them and placed his hands on the top of the tower ledge. “While all of you whine and complain,” he said, “I’m going to prove my prowess to you. Not that it needs proving. And I invite you to join me, if any of you have the courage.” He hoisted himself up onto the top of the tower’s ledge and straightened up slowly, a tightrope walker finding his balance.

  “Don’t be stupid,” Lena said. “Get down, now. Only an idiot would do that. But do you think I care what you do? I don’t.”

  “Come down, Stepfan,” Sofie was insistent. “It is much too dangerous up there. And the rest of you,” she turned to the women, shaking her head in disapproval, “leave him alone. Yes, he says unspeakable tings, yes, and he treats vomen very badly, there is no doubt about dat, but this is crazy. Come on,” she pleaded, “get down, Stepfan. It is beginning to get dark, this is madness, please.”

  Stepfan ignored her and worked on steadying himself.

  Lena stared up at him. “As far as I’m concerned, do whatever you like, we’re going back to doing our yoga,” she said.

  The women returned to their mats and sat down, watching Stepfan wordlessly.

  “I have had enough of this,” Sofie said, and she gathered her mat. “You are all playing with fire. I am leaving.” And with that, she scurried away, her head down, the thumping of her mat sounding upwards as it bounced on each step on the way down.

  Stepfan stretched out his arms and began to walk along the top of the turret. The evening light deepened to darkness, the kodachrome sunset gone, replaced by a bruised sky that would soon turn to black.

  “Look at him,” Lena said quietly. “He always does what he wants to, regardless of what I say, or what anyone else says.”

  Stepfan walked across three blocks with his arms stretched out wide and his concentration fierce. “You see,” he called out, “once again I can do whatever I say. I am at one with my body, I am the master. Watch and learn.”

  “You are nothing,” Lena called out and she stood up. “You are nothing!” Then shouting, she added. “Do you think I don’t know about all your affairs? I do. Every last one of them.” She had her hands on her hips, her face red with fury.

 

‹ Prev