The Smoke That Thunders

by Nathan Bassett

  “I feel like such a fool.”

  “Don’t. You mustn’t. Let me get Sarah and Lisa.”

  “Wait, Peter. I want … we want you and Chad to join us on our holiday, to the Kruger Game Reserve and the Drakensburg Mountains. It would be wonderful chance for you to see a different South Africa than the Transvaal.” She looked again intently in his eyes. “I really would like you to join us.”

  “Are you sure? That would be great, but we wouldn’t want to intrude on your family, your vacation time. You don’t want two Yanks tagging along.”

  “Intruding? Not at all. Peter, I need you to come. You will come?”

  ***

  As Johan walked into the hallway, he saw Sarah embracing Chad. “Save a hug for me, princess.”

  Sarah embraced her father. “Why does she do this? Why, Daddy?”

  “That’s your mother, love. She is okay. You know what she’s like. Hey, princess, we’re used to this, aren’t we? We’re going to be fine. Your mother will be just fine. You know that. All’s forgiven, and we’ll move on.”

  Lisa nestled her way between them.

  Johan squeezed his daughters tightly. “You two are the most important thing to me in all of God’s wondrous creation. We will always be a family. Never forget that. Never you two forget that. I’ll be back just now. You two, go in and see your mother.” Johan turned and put his cigarette in his mouth. He nodded at Chad as he walked down the corridor, feeling his pockets for a match.

  ***

  Four weeks. Four flipping weeks! It is time you told her ... I know, I know. Soon, soon. I’ll do it soon. Four weeks, letting her assume … letting her … I have to tell her. Soon. Pete’s thoughts berated him daily, but the simple words needed to define limits and expectations for his relationship with Cindy would not come. After each time they had been together alone, he would tell himself again, I will tell her next time that we need to slow down and just be friends. Tell her I love our friendship, but there is no glimmer of anything more. It is just not there. Next time, I will tell her. The problem was that the next time habitually turned into the next time.

  The reality was, deep in his psyche, where hidden secrets of the soul remain secluded and chained, a decision had been made – he was never to say anything about his determination to never love again. He couldn’t reveal this to Cindy because he feared losing what he did have with her. So his inner being would never allow him to find the words to declare that he could not love her as she wanted, as she needed. Each week his guilt and shame deepened as he let her assume there was more to this relationship than he could ever offer. Week after week, his hidden fear kept the relationship growing.

  ***

  Chad presumed that after their embrace at the hospital, after the tender moment of fragile needs expressed and met, Sarah would allow him in. However, Sarah remained guarded and somewhat surreptitious. His exercise in controlling his emotions and hormones had to continue.

  As the weeks went on, Wednesday night’s meeting at Jackson’s became less frequent; church activities were demanding more attention as Christmas programs neared and school holidays began. Chad was determined to cherish every moment he did have with Sarah – moments of frivolity, of sharing personal secrets, of exploring life’s inconsistencies and frustrations, and they were moments of embracing the joy of being young and alive. It was those fleeting times spent together that kept his soul beating and his hope alive.

  Sarah’s constant exaggerated flirtations seemed to affirm her interest in Chad as more than just a friend. However, any lighthearted seduction was always followed by, “It’s great being friends, isn’t it?” Chad had trouble discerning if this young woman was, pure and simple, a cruel tease toying with him or was indeed giving subconscious messages that she would soon open herself up to a full-fledged romance.

  Chad continued to bide his time. A holiday with family loomed, and that would be his opportunity.

  ***

  After the Christmas Eve service, George approached Peter in the car park as the last parishioner drove off. With a fatherly look communicating concern and frustration, George said, “Peter, it’s wonderful you’re spending time with Roger at Grace. I’m sure it is a great experience for you, and we certainly appreciate your work for us here. There is a concern, however, that, perhaps, your efforts here have been compromised. There is a perceived lack of enthusiasm – dare I say, commitment on the part of some individuals.”

  Peter wanted to say, “Go to hell,” but instead he said, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  George enunciated his words with great care. “We have no doubt in your commitment to the church. You have worked very hard. It is a matter of serving two masters. Peter, the reality is, you are worn out, and your work suffers. We certainly do not question either your enthusiasm or commitment. We don’t want you to burn yourself out.”

  “I’ve got to make a choice? Is that what this is about? An ultimatum?” Peter tried to hide his hurt and his anger, but both oozed out. George forced a slight smile, which Peter interpreted as arrogance. Peter’s hands began to tremble slightly. He folded his arms.

  Still smiling, George said, “Of course not! Don’t be ridiculous. Our concern is simply that you don’t spread yourself so thin. Your first commitment is to St. Stephens, to the children here in Vanderbijlpark. We want to feel that you are with us 100 percent. The people need to know you are with us … fully.”

  Peter no longer attempted to hide his emotions. His slight Southern drawl became more pronounced. “This is clear and simple an ultimatum, and I resent that. I’m fulfilling my obligation, doing my work here. So tell me what it is you … these people, expect.”

  George replied, “I’m sorry it comes across that way. We do not intend to stop you from going to Roger’s church. That is not the concern. That is your decision. We simply want to encourage you to pace yourself so you give your best to your work here. We know that’s what you want.”

  “Sure. I understand. I’m sorry if I’ve been … if I’ve appeared distracted,” Peter responded in a near mumble.

  “Very well. I’m glad we had this talk,” said George.

  As George walked back into the church, Peter experienced an indignant anger mingling with unsettling guilt. He felt like a young teenager caught doing wrong; he says he’s sorry, but knows full well he will continue to do what he wants to do because that’s what teenagers do.

  ***

  Green grass, flowers blossoming, a warm day, and all their family members woefully absent: This did not feel like Christmas to the two Americans. A piece of home came when Peter received a package with homemade candies, a few presents, and plenty of Christmas cards from near and distant relatives. It also contained a cassette tape of the Oklahoma-Nebraska football game, which Peter’s dad had recorded for Chad. The game was a classic contest. Chad had listened to it repeatedly, to the point when the cassette player devoured the worn tape. The thoughtfulness of Peter’s father stirred Chad’s emotions. This gesture from someone else’s father reinforced Chad’s disappointment and anger toward his own, who had not even bothered to sign the Christmas card his mother had sent.

  CHAPTER 17

  Sadie

  Before the break of dawn on January 2, Johan blew the horn of his 1969 Volkswagen Kombi – the family van that had been popular in the sixties, especially with free-spirited hippies searching for peace, love, rock ‘n’ roll, and the next Woodstock.

  Peter had camped out by the door for half an hour with his rucksack in hand. Three times, he attempted to rouse Chad, and he finally gave up. Peter yelled at Chad once again. “Get going! They’re waiting!”

  Chad yelled back, “Goddamn it! This is too bloody early.”

  Peter bit his tongue. He told himself, I’m not going to worry about him. If he’s late, he’s late. If they have to wait … they can get on him. I am not going to ruin things before we start. As he went through the door, he called out, “Hurry up!”

  Chad rolled out
of bed, threw on jeans and a t-shirt, doused his face with water, grabbed his rucksack, and burst through the front door just as the horn blew again, arousing neighbors content in their slumber.

  The sun peaked over the horizon as they left from Vanderbijlpark behind and approached the highway. Susan offered warm, homemade cinnamon rolls with a twinkle in her eye.

  As they finished their sweet and sticky breakfast, Susan looked back at her guests with expectant eyes and lips pressed together. Lisa whispered in Peter’s ear, and he in turn whispered in Chad’s ear. Then they both bragged about the rolls, remarking how they reminded them of home.

  The young girls hid their laughter as Susan nodded her head and said, “I got the recipe from a friend’s American cookbook. I thought you would be pleased.”

  During the next two hours of the journey, Johan told countless and elaborate anecdotes about his beloved kombi, which, for an unknown reason, he called ‘Sadie.’ “Now this one is my favorite stories. Sarah hates this one because it reminds her of bad dreams, but it is a tale that must be told.”

  Sarah whined, “It still gives me the shivers. Please do not tell it. Please, Dad.”

  Johan ignored the plea. “We were camped there in the northwest corner of Kruger. We had strolled around the campsite and got us some cold drinks at a kiosk at the far end compound. Little Sarah was about twelve at the time. When we came back, she caught a glimpse of a snake inside the van, and boy did she scream! Obliterated my eardrums. That is why I cannot hear so well to this day. Ja, man. Well, I was determined to show no fear. After all, it was just an old bush snake, eh? No problem. So I climb into Sadie with a big ole stick to shoo the poor thing out.”

  Lisa interrupted, “Dad flies out of the kombi. He rolled all the way over on his head three times.” Lisa’s arms illustrated the scene.

  “Ja! I had the shock of my life. I bolted out of Sadie in one hop, like Superman.” Johan snorted as his laughter came out and then continued, “That damn creature … it is a black mamba. A black mamba! Deadliest snake in all of Africa. Ay. They call it the ‘five-step snake’ because after it bites, you will walk no more than five steps before you ball up in convulsions and die a grisly, painful death.” Johan jerked two fingers down in a striking motion. “Deadly things. Deadly.”

  Susan added, “It was a nightmare. It was two hours before a park ranger showed up. All our food was in there, and we were starving. We couldn’t even fix a cup of tea.”

  Johan continued, “Ja. The bloody ranger shows up and stood around for another hour with a half dozen of his Bantus, all of them arguing like menopausal apes. No one wants to tackle this job. The park ranger eventually gives up on his boys and locates the park snake wrangler. That okie bagged the creature lickety-split, just like that, no fear at all in him. He took it away to the bush and assures us proudly that the mamba would live a happy life. Then he said, ‘Now, the beauty may return to the area if she found anything of interest to entice her back. They are rather territorial.’”

  Susan finished the story. “So we packed up camp and drove two hours to a less-secluded campsite. We all slept in the van for the rest of that trip.”

  Johan laughed, shook his head in fondness. “Ay! To this day, Sarah insists I check the van every time we get in her while we’re in Kruger or any other game park.”

  Then Lisa told her favorite tale, often interrupting herself with burst of her own laughter. As her story progressed, Sarah made intensifying demands to “Shut up or else,” but Lisa pressed on. “One time, twenty baboons, babies and mamas, they climbed all over the kombi, pressing their faces against the windows, laughing at us like we were the animals in the zoo. Like this…” Lisa thrust out her bottom lip, filled her cheeks with air, and waved her arms wildly. Composing her self-induced laughter, she continued, using her arms and face to accentuate her story. “A great big one, he kept looking at Sarah, licking his lips like this … wanting to kiss her. She started screaming. Then the baboon screamed. Then—”

  “Hou jou bek, Lisa. Shuuut up!” Sarah demanded, as her face turned increasingly red.

  “Then she—”

  Susan interrupted. She spoke firmly, though a chuckle appeared to be begging for life, “Lisa, that is enough, now.”

  That increased Lisa’s laughter and determination to finish her anecdote. “She wet herself. Peed all over herself!”

  “God, Lisa! It wasn’t funny. You’d better shut up!” Everyone’s laughter muffled Sarah’s command.

  “It was. She peed, she—”

  “Enough, Lisa!” Susan said as sternly as she could while holding her laughter in check.

  Johan was not concerned about his laughter. He eventually said, “That was a very fine day – a very fine day indeed.”

  Sarah, with a face bright red, whined, “They will never let me forget that – never. Anyway, it was a long time ago.”

  Chad asked, “How old were you?”

  Sarah said. “It was a long time ago.”

  Lisa burst into laughter again and blurted out, “She was sixteen. Sixteen! It was only two years ago Sarah. Six—”

  “You had better shut up, you,” Sarah said as she punched Lisa in the arm.

  “Sixteen!” Lisa’s laughter increased. “Six—”

  Sarah put her hand over her tormentor’s mouth to muffle the last syllable.

  Stories of their beloved Sadie and her amazing adventures with this family continued: the trip when a large bull elephant started rocking the van nearly turning it on its side and only stopped after Johan convinced the females to stop screaming at the millionth decibel level; the time they parked near a pride of lions and watched them devour a young springbok from the top of the van; stories of flat tires and breakdowns in the outer regions of nowhere, wondering if they would ever be found and always ending up playing marathon games of canasta as they waited for a park ranger to show up. Each account was recounted with fondness and laughter. Each collective memory evoked a renewed reverence for the experiences of this family being a family.

  When the treasure of anecdotes was exhausted, quiet ensued. Johan smiled and hummed to himself, and Susan gazed out the side window. Chad and Sarah busied themselves in subdued whispers, often letting out bursts of laughter, which they quickly curtailed. Peter sat listening to Lisa talk about her schoolmates. He held a book and often opened it, hoping Lisa would comprehend this nonverbal request to give him some peace. He eventually tuned her out, offering her an occasional nod as she prattled on, and he was able to finish reading the first two chapters of ‘Catch 22.’

  Peter noticed Susan letting out increasing sighs, each accompanied by a slight shake of her head. He wondered if he should ask her if she was all right. He told himself that was Johan’s role, not his.

  A few minutes later, Susan leaned toward Johan and whispered in his ear. Johan glanced at her and hit the steering wheel hard with his palm.

  Susan leaned again toward Johan. She spoke loud enough for the others to hear, “You know that could get us all locked up, those petrol cans tied up there on the roof. What were you thinking? I do not understand you. It could get us all killed. I don’t know why you do such things. I told you not to. If the police find out about those …”

  There was a moment of silence.

  Peter fixed his gaze on Johan, he was sure the whole of Johan’s body was increasing in size.

  Lisa grabbed Peter’s knee and whispered, “I don’t like this. They always do this.”

  Johan spewed his words out, “Ag nee. Quiet, woman! I am not going to have us stranded in the middle of nowhere because we cannot buy bloody petrol. Don’t blame me that they ration the goddamn petrol. Ay! Just shut up about it.”

  Susan responded, “It could get us all in trouble. It could put you in jail. Moreover, you are putting us all at risk. What if it explodes? We’ll all be dead, Johan! All you have to do is light your cigarette in the wrong place. I just don’t know why you do such foolish things!”

  “Jesus,
woman! We will not be caught. It will be fine. There will be no bloody explosion. I don’t know why you have to worry about that which is no concern of yours. Flip man! Forget about it already!”

  Peter’s emotions numbed as he witnessed the bickering continue, growing in intensity.

  Lisa shouted several times, “Shut up! Please shut up!” With each succeeding demand, the pitch in her voice ratcheted upwards until it became a near scream. Eventually, she gave up and stared out the window with no further interest in what was going on. Sarah, sounding like a frustrated parent chastising squabbling siblings, interrupted, “You two need to just let it go. Stop it, right now!”

  Quiet ensued for a fleeting moment. Then there was a glance, a sigh, a word – the fragile truce came to a quick end.

  Sarah sighed and shook her head. She leaned over to Chad and whispered, “There’s only one way to end this. They know I’ll do it if they don’t stop.” She stepped toward the front of the van and exclaimed, “Mom! I’m carsick. We have to stop. I have to get out now! I am going to throw up. Quick! Please!”

  Johan pulled over. They took in the fresh air and had a cup of tea from their assigned flasks. When they climbed back into the kombi, the tension had vanished.

  ***

  Nightfall was encroaching by the time they arrived at the southern hills of the Drakensberg Mountains, the pride of the Natal Province in northeastern South Africa. This mountain range is a world away from the flat, arid landscape of the Transvaal. The Drakensberg Mountains are not magnificent in terms of the incredible magnitude of the Alps or the Rockies, but they are nevertheless majestic and awe inspiring in their own right: forbidding, wild, rugged, and beautiful. Lush emerald savannahs encroach upon dragon-like summits, as if they are fighting their way up the steep, rugged slopes to tame the inhospitable peaks. The Drakensberg’s towering, jagged peaks and flourishing green valleys, remind awed visitors that beauty and strength rule this Earth.

  The stars were shining brightly by the time the vacationers arrived at the campsite. Peter and Chad fumbled and bungled marvelously as they attempted to erect their two-man tent; the two girls had their three-man tent up in five minutes flat. They offered to help, to which Chad curtly responded, “We’re fine. Leave it to us.” Sarah and Lisa laughed heartily as they sat and watched the two inept campers.