Chad watched his mother and father drive off. He had given his mother a long embrace before she got into the car. His father had attempted to hug Chad, but his son stepped back. Patrick put out his hand and Chad took another step back. Chad said “Goodbye” and turned away. Chad’s mom and dad waved as the car drove off, both with tears in their eyes.
Chad was tired of being stubborn, but he had to refuse his father’s apology and his father’s offer of a farewell embrace. His father needed to know the depth of his anger. He knew his stubbornness had allowed a chance of reconciliation to slip away. Nevertheless, he deserved to be angry; after all, his father created this anger and this stubbornness.
***
Two days later, Peter and Chad bade tearful goodbyes to the family that had so freely offered undeserved warmth and acceptance. The airplane left Bulawayo Airport and carried them away from the terror and the fear, but also away from a family that had welcomed them as their own flesh and blood.
As they surveyed the Rhodesian landscape from 20,000 feet above, they reflected on memories forged in this wonderful, terrifying land. This country would hold a special place in their hearts – not because of the wonders they had seen, but because of the people that had touched them: Whites and Blacks in love with their homeland, ready to die in it and for it; the individuals and families who faced death and terror daily, while holding their heads high; the grieving and hurting people determined to believe that the goodness in human nature would not be extinguished by the delusions of evildoers. They would never forget this haunted and haunting place.
As they rode the African sky, leaving behind joys and terrors that touched their hearts and souls, both agreed it would be a welcomed relief to return to South Africa. Excitement and anticipation grew with each passing mile. However, the excitement and anticipation were mixed with an increasing apprehension and a sense of foreboding for both travelers.
PART IV
March 3, 1977 - August 1, 1977
CHAPTER 30
Home Again
Peter insisted that Themba join them, but her protest was firm: “Oh, nee. It is not my place to sit with you at this table,” she said, looking away.
Peter then demanded, “You will join us, and not another word about it. And from now on, you will sit with us on the sofa when you wish to grace us with your presence and watch the TV or just be with us.”
Themba laughed and looked at Simon, expecting him to reject Peter’s unilateral decision. Simon held a thoughtful gaze, and then in a matter-of-fact manner stated, “Themba, dear, you shall indeed be sitting with us at the table and sofa whenever you are not on duty. Absolutely.”
Themba sheepishly joined them at the table, but her cautious smile did not relax for some time.
Chad and Peter then chronicled their travels around the still-cluttered dinner table. Simon and Themba listened with amazement, careful not to ask many questions lest they interrupt the flow of the detailed narrative of their friends’ adventures in Rhodesia.
Three pots of tea and two hours later, Chad and Peter recounted the final scene: their tearful farewell at Bulawayo Airport.
Peter let out a heavy sigh. Before the tear that was forming emerged, he stood up and said, “Themba you clear these plates, and I’ll wash up.”
As Peter disappeared into the kitchen, Themba said, “Oh no! This is not to be necessary.” She looked at Simon and let out a faint sigh and shook her head slowly. Then cleared the table and joined peter in the kitchen.
Simon and Chad retired to the comfortable chairs in the living room.
“Chad,” Simon said in a low tone.
Chad knew this meant he was about to broach a serious and difficult matter, and he could guess what Simon was about to say.
“I am certainly concerned about you and your father.”
Chad pulled in a quick breath and held it. He thought about getting up and leaving. He defiantly crossed his arms and said, “God, Simon! Not now. It’s not the time.”
“This is as good a time as there ever will be. Your anger is a dangerous thing, Chad.”
Chad started to shake his head. Pain shot through his neck into his cheekbone. He winced and simply rolled his eyes. “What? What do you mean? You think I’m going to murder my dad? Take a contract out on him or something? Wow! Simon, I’ve never thought of that before, but maybe I will. I have some good connections on the east side of Jersey. God, Simon, what do think I am?”
“I am not worried about your father. Chad, your anger will destroy you, not him. That anger hurts you far, far more than it hurts your father. Anger infects us, Chad. Like a cancer that spreads, it eats away at your body and soul.”
“You don’t make sense sometimes, Simon. You really don’t. I’ll tell you this though. I can be angry at my dad if I want. That’s my right. I don’t have to like him, love him, or forgive him. I can hate him. That is my right as a human being. Hell, it’s what he asked for, and he’s got it.”
Simon’s empathetic tone waned. “You’re playing the victim, Chad. The victim lives in the shadow of other people’s failures and mistakes. The victim has no power to move on.”
“What a load of psycho-babble bullshit. Victim? What the hell does that mean?”
“It means you can either live your life blaming your dad, or you can move on. There is only one way to move on.”
“If you’re talking about forgiving and forgetting, you can shove it up your ass. You’re asking me to pretend nothing’s wrong with him. Whatever! Yeah, right. I’m just gonna will our father and son relationship into something sweet and wonderful that it’s never been. I don’t think you live in reality sometimes, Simon. I really don’t.”
“Chad, I do believe that is possible.”
“You don’t understand. You really don’t.”
“Chad, forgiveness isn’t forgetting. It is not saying everything’s fine. It is coming to terms with the failures of others and accepting their mistakes. The one who refuses to move towards forgiveness – well, they remain a victim.”
Chad stood and took a step toward the bedroom and muttered, “Go to hell.”
“I just want you to think about it, that’s all. I worry. I … I care about you, Chad.”
Chad sat back down. “I know you do, Simon, but it’s none of your business. I am fine. Just leave it be.”
“Very well.”
“You know, I could ask you questions about you and your brother. Why do you still reject him after all these years? Why do you avoid seeing him? Meeting his family? Let me psychoanalyze you and your family, Simon.”
Simon laughed, “That is very different, my friend.”
“Is it? Maybe you don’t hate your brother, but I don’t think it is really different.”
Simon quickly retorted, “I have not had time to go and see him, and he is so rarely here. It is hard to connect.”
“Bull! Those are just excuses. I believe it is because you have never forgiven him for disowning you and your father. Perhaps you need to learn to forgive.”
“It is not a lack of forgiveness. However, you are right in saying it is a lack of effort from both sides. And I shall ask you to just leave it be.”
“Very well.”
CHAPTER 31
Love Lost, Love Found
Late afternoon, Chad biked to Sarah’s house at a snail’s pace. As he pedaled up a slight incline, he realized that an immobile neck makes riding a bike a very precarious venture. He traveled at a pace that made it challenging to keep the bicycle from wobbling. It did give him time to rehearse, once again, what he would say and how he would say it.
Sarah sat alone in the back garden. She heard the iron gate open and close. She turned her head; her body remained motionless.
Chad could not read the look on her face. Her mouth offered no expression, but her eyes grew bigger. It was as if she had not decided which emotion she wanted to embrace. He stood over her for a few moments before she finally spoke.
“We re
ally thought you had had it, Mr. Daley. Simon made it sound like you were dead and gone.”
“Indeed, but as you can see, the reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.”
Sarah remained seated, looking up at him, her facial expression still indefinable.
Chad had imagined his wound and near-death experience would jolt her into the realization of how much she really did love him, but now a wave of uncertainty and fear was gathering strength in the depths of his being. He reached out his hands, inviting her to stand and said, “I at least deserve a bit of a hug, don’t I?”
She stood, wrapped her arms around him, and squeezed him with all her strength. She whispered with childlike innocence, “How could you? How could you do that to me?”
Chad laughed, “Peter called tails. Blame him.”
Sarah tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.
“I’ll tell you some other time. Right now, I just want to be with you, to look at you, to talk to you. Sarah, I just want to love you. Just let me love you.”
“I will. And I am just going to love you, Chadwick Daley.”
***
Peter had walked for an hour. He had told Simon he needed to relax. In the years to come, he would still insist he was simply wandering with no destination in mind and that he was shocked where he found himself.
Peter stood in front of Cindy’s house thinking. What a coincidence. A heated debate raged inside his brain. Sure, I want to see her and talk to her. Yes, I’ve thought about it. But no, I shouldn’t be here. This is ridiculous. Just turn and go. But it’d be good to see her, to talk with her. No, I know she must hate me. Just walk away. Leave her alone. No, she’ll be fine. She’ll want to see me, to talk to me, to hear what I’ve been through. No she won’t, because you crushed her heart with that letter. Now leave her alone.
He turned and headed back down the street. Then, for no reason he could explain, he turned around, went to her door, and knocked firmly.
“What are you doing here?”
Cindy’s question was too harsh. Peter thought about darting off as fast as possible like a small child would after the neighbor caught him breaking a window.
***
Sarah and Chad sat in the back garden watching the sun slide below the horizon.
“A new day is dawning on other side of the world. Isn’t that amazing when you think about it?” Sarah asked, then without pausing said, “When Simon said you might not make it, I … I thought I was going to die. For a moment, I wanted to die. Chad, I hate myself for the way I treated you. I hate myself for refusing your love. I hate myself for refusing to love you. When I thought you were … gone, I realized how desperately I need your love and how utterly I love you. And don’t you dare say ‘I told you so.’”
“Oh, please, please let me say it.”
Sarah shook her head as she laughed. Chad pulled her close. “I’ve tried to figure out why you’re so different – why you are the one, I dared to love. With every other female, every other relationship, it’s always been a game. But I’m not just playing with you.”
“Everyone?” Sarah looked away when she said that.
Chad sighed. “Yeah, okay, you caught me. That one was different, but that’s because I grew up with her. I was thirteen when I thought I was in love with her. You can’t count that.”
“Then why do you write her? Tell me the last time you had—”
“Don’t ask because it doesn’t matter. She is a dear friend, but romance hasn’t been there for a long time – for years. God, I never felt anything like I feel for you, Sarah. I’ve only ever used girls in the past, every damn one of them. I don’t regret that. But now I know what love can be. You, lady, you found my heart. I don’t know how you did it, but you did! Promise me you’ll take good care of this crusty ole heart.”
“Sure! You were right though.”
“About what? Oh, I know … about everything.”
“What a big head you have, Mr. Daley. About my father. My family. I can’t fix them. I will never change my dad. I love him to death, but too often, I just hate him. No. I so hate what he is – I mean what he does. And I know he’ll never change. I have to move on. And don’t you say ‘I told you so.’”
Chad smiled, and then laughed. “I didn’t say he would never change. I said you can’t change him.”
He wrestled her on the grass until their lips met. At that moment, Johan came through the back door.
***
Peter choked as he tried to respond to Cindy’s curt question. “I just … I wanted to …” He stopped cold.
“What do you want, Peter?” Cindy stared into space as she spoke.
“Can we talk, just for a minute?” Peter knew his voice and demeanor were embarrassingly sheepish. He took a deep breath and told himself to act like a man. “I’d like to talk. Just for a few minutes. Please?”
“Two minutes. That’s all.”
“I suppose you got my letter?” Peter knew it was a ridiculous question; he paused, hoping she would pick up the conversation.
She didn’t.
Peter continued. “I shouldn’t have written it. I should have talked to you in person. I know that, and I’m sorry. We … I should have talked to you a long time ago. I’m sorry, Cindy. Truly, I am.”
Cindy said, “So you always felt that way?” Her eyes remained fixed in a sightless gaze over his left shoulder.
Peter knew another dumb statement had just come out. Now, he thought, I will have to either lie or look like even a worse villain – the villain who led her on from the day she first took my hands in hers. He finally opened his mouth and let his words come out at will. “No. No. I guess, maybe I’ve always been confused about us, about everything. I wanted to love you. I want to love you, and I do … but … it’s like …” Peter felt a lump in his throat and swallowed, but the stubborn lump remained.
Cindy looked up and scowled at him. Her green eyes became even greener. “I know! Like a sister!”
“No! Like a friend – a very dear and special friend.”
“Ag man! Sis. That sounds even worse. A special friend? What the heck does that mean? I cannot deal with this. I loved you way too much, way too much. You’ve betrayed me. You used me, Peter! I can’t deal with that. But it’s all fine, Peter, because I don’t care anymore. I can’t care anymore! I can’t be your … God! Your special little friend! Go find another shoulder to cry on. You can find plenty of other special friends to prop you up.”
“I don’t want you to feel that way. Maybe after a while we can be friends.”
“Ag nee man! You really don’t get it! I cannot be just friends with someone I love, someone I loved with all my heart. Peter, I’m angry as hell. I can never trust you again. You have hurt me far too deeply.”
“I don’t know what to say. I didn’t want to ruin our—”
Cindy interrupted, “Nooit! Just stop. Leave it there.”
“I don’t want it to be this way. Can’t we … I’d like us to—”
“No! Just leave.” Cindy looked at the ground and took a slow, controlled breath and with a calm voice said, “I’m leaving in a fortnight. I’m going to spend some time with my aunt.”
“Not the one in Rhodesia?”
“Of course. I was going to go earlier in the summer, but I didn’t.” She paused and glanced quickly at Peter, then looked down again. “She’s short of workers at the orphanage, and I’m going to help them out for a while. You know I love it there. I want to go. I’ve been going there every year since I was fifteen.”
“I know, but it’s not safe there, and it’s getting worse. I don’t want you to go.”
“It’s fine. They don’t have problems like that in the orphanages, the missions. They’ve never had any problems. It’s fine. I need to go.”
“That’s not true. People are dying there every day. You can’t go. No way.”
Cindy’s face contorted, her cheeks lit up with a fiery red tint, and her eyes grew large. She l
ooked him straight into his eyes and spoke very slowly. “Friends do not tell their friends where they can and cannot go. Friends do not have that right. Friends come and go, and I’m going.”
“I need you, Cindy. I need you to stay … I … damn it, you just shouldn’t go there.”
Her eyes now blazed. “Are you that dense? Peter, we will never be friends. I will never get over the fact that you willfully and utterly used me. From the moment we first held hands to when we embraced and when we kissed and when we first … you were just using me. You never had any intention of, how did you say it? Of anything more. You played me for such a fool. Please leave. Just go home.”
Peter left.
***
Chad and Sarah sprang up like startled kittens when they heard the back door open and quickly slam shut. Johan approached, holding two beers in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He put a beer in Chad’s hand and said. “Howzit, my bru? You do look bloody awful, eh?”
Chad squinted in the fading light, trying to read Johan’s expression. Is this Johan my friend and mate or Johan the overprotective father? Or is it Johan the boozer, desperate to escape his sober state?
“I’m good. Real good. Hoe haan dit met yo?”
“Heard things got pretty rough for you okies there in that bloody Rhodesia. Aweh! It is good to see you, man.”
Johan’s greeting encouraged Chad. He felt his muscles somewhat relax. Chad said, “I’m glad to see you too.”
“I’m sure you are, but I know you are much more pleased to see my Sarah.”
“Uh … yeah … it is good to see her. Yes, it is.”
“Indeed! Now make some room for me on that blanket, and you tell me all about those adventures of yours.”
“Actually I need to get back. Simon will have dinner ready, and I don’t want to keep him waiting. Time just got away from me.”
“I see. You and Peter are to join us tomorrow. We will have another braai before the evenings become too cool. We will have a good old-fashioned dop 'n chop. Ja?”
“Sounds good.” Chad was not going to stay around and be chaperoned by anyone’s father. He gulped down the last half of his beer and slowly stood up. “I’ll look forward to tomorrow, but I’ve got to get going. Dankie for the beer. What time tomorrow?”
The Smoke That Thunders Page 26
