Water

by Hardy, Natasha

  “Allan, I’m trusting you with my reason for living,” he’d told his friend in a quiet but intense tone. “ Please, my friend, look after her.”

  Allan had promised him he’d keep me close to the house and out of harm’s way. He’d reassured Dad that Luke was a responsible kid and would make sure I was safe.

  Leaning against the dividing wall between the lounge and the kitchen where I’d been eavesdropping, I only just managed to slip out of the wide-flung sliding doors and settle into a camp chair by the dying fire before Dad came outside to say goodbye.

  I’d been given a severe lecture before he left. The normal “listen and be helpful” script had been hurriedly brushed aside as Dad warned me to stay on the farm.

  “Please, Alex –” his face had been creased in worry, his blue eyes intense “– be very careful.”

  “Sure, Dad,” I’d replied, pasting a smile on my face and hiding my confusion. The farm posed very little threat to me, surely he should be more worried about what could happen to me in Johannesburg, my home for most of the year. The worst that could happen here was I might fall off a horse, should I choose to ride one, or be bitten by an irritable goose.

  I’d brushed his worry aside, assigning it to the parental guilt I’d seen both my parents war with since they’d split.

  “Nothing is going to happen to me,” I told him, hugging him a little awkwardly.

  He’d kissed the top of my head and held my face in his hands for a few moments, worry still pulling his shaggy eyebrows together.

  “I love you,” he’d told me seriously.

  “Love you too, Dad.”

  He’d pulled me into another brief hug before getting into his truck and driving away in a plume of moonlit dust and exhaust fumes.

  I refocused on the mountains, confusion at Dad’s odd behaviour still tugging at me and wondered if Luke knew anything about the story I felt sure was lurking in the folds of Injisuthi.

  He’d been busy with Matt and helping Allan out on the farm for most of the week, but I was sure I’d be able to corner him after breakfast.

  Matt was leaving for Hockey camp this morning, and Allan and Maryka had planned to take him there at about ten o clock, leaving Luke and me alone for the day. A quick glance at my clock had me rushing to the bathroom in an attempt to get ready before Matt and his parents left.

  Feigning nonchalance that belied the last twenty minutes of frantic grooming, I was sitting at the large oak dining-room table eating breakfast in the sun-drenched kitchen, listening to Matt and Maryka chatting, when Luke came in.

  He flopped into the chair next to me, pouring some cereal into a bowl and joining in the conversation.

  I loved the way Luke’s family got on. So different to the strained formality I’d become used to before my parents split. This family’s interaction was as natural as breathing, their affection and easy conversation a balm to my warped perception of “normal” family life.

  I concentrated on my cereal, trying to blend into the background as best as I could, my favourite place to be.

  “So, Alex.” Luke grinned a naughty grin, the grin I remembered from the carefree days of our childhood. “What were you doing in my bedroom last night?”

  I froze, my spoon halfway to my mouth, in horror.

  “What do you mean?” I scowled.

  “I woke up to find you staring at me in the middle of the night. So what was your plan? Did you want to snuggle?”

  Matt giggled and Maryka chided him for asking me awkward questions.

  His teasing tone held a hint of something else, and while he continued to grin, his eyes were wary.

  “Of course not,” I snapped, recovering slightly from the shock. “I got lost on the way to the bathroom.”

  He smiled easily and dropped the subject.

  Did he believe me? I watched him surreptitiously as I finished my breakfast. The problem was, I didn’t know what I’d been doing in his bedroom, because I didn’t remember walking into it.

  I silently cursed my sleepwalking as an irritating and telling blush crawled up my neck.

  It bothered me a lot, not just that I’d made a complete fool out of myself by walking into Luke’s room, but because I’d never had the nightmare and gone sleepwalking on the same night before.

  Thankfully Allan rushed in shortly afterwards to hurry Matt and Maryka out to Matt’s Hockey camp. The kitchen was suddenly empty, the only sound the scraping of our spoons in the bottom of our bowls.

  “What you want to do today?” Luke asked, his eyes flashing briefly to mine.

  “Well…” I paused, feeling a little silly. “I was wondering if you knew anything more about the adventure in the Injisuthi that our parents were talking about last night?”

  He continued scraping his spoon in the bottom of the bowl, shrugging his shoulders.

  “They don’t talk about it very much. I’ve only heard them mention it once or twice before.”

  I slumped a little at his caginess as I stared into the milk and remaining soggy bits of oats. I’d been so sure there was something more interesting to their adventure, and even more sure that Luke was curious about it too.

  “But I have often wondered why Mom always looks so sad, and Dad gets so protective every time they mention it.”

  I looked up sharply to find him toying with the remains of his breakfast, his expression bemused. He continued to stare into his bowl vacantly as he spoke.

  “I wonder if Josh knows anything about it?”

  Josh was Luke’s lanky, good-natured, bubbly best friend. He was also an insatiable prankster which left me wondering if perhaps his so-called knowledge about our parents’ adventure was just an elaborate joke he’d made up to amuse himself at Luke’s expense.

  “He’s mentioned it once before, something about there being a local tribe that lived in this area a couple of decades ago. Josh’s grandfather is related to them somehow.” He frowned, chewing on his lip.

  “A local tribe?” I asked, glancing out at the slopes of the mountain framed in the kitchen window and picturing a scattering of traditional round thatch-covered huts dotted beneath the umbrella-shaped acacia trees.

  “Yeah, I can’t remember the name of the people that used to live here but we’ve found quite a lot of rock art when we’ve been camping in Injisuthi before.”

  “What did they do here?” I asked, fascinated as the life these people must have led came alive in my mind’s eye.

  “They were herders mostly, I think,” Luke replied, getting up from the kitchen table and clearing away his breakfast things.

  I followed him, helping to wash the dishes while fishing for more information. “What did they herd?”

  “Cattle and some goats.” He grinned at me as he handed me the bowls to dry. “Haven’t you learnt about this stuff at school?”

  “Yeah of course I have,” I replied, grinning back at him before turning to gaze out of the window again. “It’s just very different being able to see where they lived rather than reading about it.”

  He nodded. “I guess it would be. The paintings are pretty cool.”

  “Can we go and see them?” I asked excitedly.

  He switched from happy to sulky in an instant. “They’re a little far out of the ‘adventure zone’,” he muttered as he began putting the dishes away in the cupboards.

  My curiosity faded a little as the possibility of adventure died beneath our parents’ suffocating rules.

  We continued to move around the kitchen in silence for a while as I tried to find a way to rekindle the spark of comradeship we’d shared.

  “How does the local tribe fit into the story our parents were talking about last night?” I asked.

  Luke shrugged, hanging up the dish towel as he did so. “Josh knows more about it,” he replied sullenly. “He’s coming over in an hour or so to go fishing, you can ask him then.”

  “We’re going fishing?”

  “Yup, if you’re up for it?”

  I nod
ded smiling shyly, pleased that he seemed to be relaxing a bit around me.

  Fishing wasn’t exactly my ideal pastime, but I’d happily go along if it meant a semblance of the old friendship we’d had could be rekindled and, more importantly, if I could find out more about the mystery I felt sure was lurking in the folds of the mighty Injisuthi mountains.

  Chapter 2

  History

  Two old willow trees wept silently into the still, clear water, their shade providing a haven in which thick lush grass grew in great mushroom mounds.

  Luke, Josh and I’d cycled down to fish at the dam that served as drinking water for the livestock. It was on the very edge of the “adventure zone” bordering the lush green plain that swept sharply upwards into Injisuthi’s peaks and ridges.

  “Right, you’re on worm patrol,” announced Luke before showing me how to sift the mud at the edge of the pool through my fingers looking for insect larvae.

  While I shuffled awkwardly through the shallows looking for larvae, mud squelching through my toes and knees cramping, I couldn’t help but feel that the boys were taking advantage of my enthusiasm as they stretched out in the springy grass under the trees, chatting about sport.

  I should have minded, but the cool water underfoot and hot sun beating on my back was sheer bliss. Bright yellow weaver birds warbled cheerfully as they wove ball-shaped nests from willow leaves, their fussy partners chirping bossily. Glittering dragonflies flirted with the water as the crickets and other critters all sang their joy at surviving another day in Africa.

  Eventually, a handful of worms later, and after I’d squeamishly threaded a wriggling one onto my hook and been shown how to throw the line into the water, I settled beside the boys, watching the gossamer-thin lines bobbing gently on the glassy surface.

  I stole a glance at Josh before broaching the subject that had been nagging incessantly for an explanation.

  “So, um, Luke and I heard our parents speaking about a camping trip they went on, looking for the jade pools, and Luke said you might know more about it, and what the local tribe has to do with it?” I blurted out in a rush.

  His eyebrows shot up as he turned to Luke, accusation burning in his eyes.

  Luke shrugged, looking a little guilty. “I know we’re not supposed to talk about it, Josh, but, well… I’ve been wondering about it too. And I thought…” He trailed off, looking sheepish at Josh’s furious expression.

  “Why aren’t you allowed to talk about it?” I asked.

  Josh shook his head, his mouth tightening into a flat angry line.

  “Aw come on, Josh,” Luke complained “you can trust her. They’re just stories anyway.”

  “Stories?!” Josh snorted an angry laugh. “The problem is that those stories have caused a lot of trouble for my people, Luke!”

  “She ran away, Josh,” Luke interrupted him, rolling his eyes.

  “Wait… who ran away?” I interrupted them.

  “Talita.”

  I stared at Luke in confusion.

  “Your Dad’s long ago girlfriend.”

  “Oh, why?”

  Luke turned to Josh and waited.

  He sighed, an unfamiliar frown creasing his forehead. “You have to promise me that you will keep everything I’m telling you a secret.”

  “Why?” I asked, bewildered.

  “Because the explanation that the town has accepted for Talita’s disappearance has resulted in my grandfather and most of the tribe being ostracised and I don’t want to be the one to start up vicious rumours again,” he replied angrily.

  “OK, Josh, I won’t mention it to anyone else, but why has the town turned on your tribe?”

  Josh took a deep breath, staring at his fishing line as he spoke. “At the time your parents went on their fated camping trip, our people lived on a very valuable piece of land. Some people from outside had identified a possible gold vein that ran beneath it. The government had granted them mining rights but under the condition that the land was uninhabited. We’d been there for generations and, despite the threats and then the promises of the people who wanted us to leave the land, we refused to go.” He shook his head angrily.

  “And then Talita –” he spat her name out “– disappeared, and our tribe was blamed. They said –” he used his fingers to make quotation marks “– the ‘mootie man’ of our tribe had murdered her and used her for his witchdoctor medicine.” He let out a short disbelieving bark of cynical laughter.

  “But didn’t our parents tell them what really happened?” I asked.

  Josh shook his head. “They tried, but they were just kids and their story was so far-fetched…” Josh trailed off.

  I glanced at Luke, who was staring at his fishing line too, his mouth turned down at the corners and a frown entrenched on his forehead.

  “So what happened?”

  “Our tribe was removed by force and relocated to the barren wasteland on the other side of the river where they live now,” Josh replied quietly.

  “But didn’t they fight it?” I asked incredulous, and horrified at how his people had been treated. “Didn’t the other townspeople fight it?”

  Josh shook his head. “It was the middle of Apartheid, Alex, you know how violent the secret police were. The few that knew about it and did speak up either shut up when the police went to visit them, or disappeared.”

  “It’s horrible, Josh,” I told him quietly, putting my hand on his arm, “but why are you afraid of the real story now? I mean, it happened years ago and things have changed…”

  “For us maybe,” he agreed, smiling at me sadly and covering my hand briefly with his. “For the older folk…” He shook his head. “They can’t forget, Alex, and I don’t want to be the one to open old wounds.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, because the ugly scar on our country’s history still pulsed with the memories of the hateful crimes that had been committed all those years ago.

  “Promise, Alexandra,” Josh said quietly, “promise me you’ll keep all of this a secret.”

  I nodded. “Sure, Josh,” I replied.

  He gazed at me a moment longer before nodding slightly to himself, as if satisfied that he believed me.

  He examined his toes, wriggling them into the mud and clouding the water.

  “This story goes far beyond Talita’s disappearance. Although that is the most recent interaction this town has had with the magic within Injisuthi, these mountains have been shrouded in mystery for decades,” he said, looking at me intently. “The first record we have of them is from my grandfather’s tribal stories which were passed down from his grandfather. Our tribe lived a good one hundred kilometres from the Injisuthi, where the town is situated now.”

  I nodded my encouragement.

  “They were very friendly with another tribe that lived much closer to Injisuthi, in her skirt folds, over there.”

  He pointed to a sweep of mountains that rose aggressively into rock-capped peaks. I imagined for a moment living in their shadow, Josh’s story taking shape in my mind’s eye.

  “Because of their knowledge of the forests and mountains, the mountain tribes that inhabited the foothills of Injisuthi had managed to accumulate much wealth helping various groups of travellers to cross the mountain range. In those days, this area was wild bush veld, lions and especially leopard were everywhere.”

  He paused, his eyes drifting to the same plains I’d been looking at.

  “One day they were betrayed by their own chief to slavers who had heard of their women’s extraordinary beauty. After many weeks of killing, the slavers cornered the mountain tribe in a deep valley, where they found themselves trapped between their enemies and a cliff face with a mighty waterfall and a deep pool. A great battle began, as the men of the mountain tribe and the other tribes they’d managed to get to help them fought off the slavers. Days and nights passed and still the fighting continued, but with no food and inferior weapons the mountain tribe began to fall. One night when almost all of
their warriors had been killed and with their enemies prepared to strike, the mountain people disappeared.”

  I was staring at Josh, holding my breath, completely enthralled.

  “What happened to them?”

  Josh’s expression was intensely serious.

  “Some people say their ancestors rescued them by taking them into the stars. Others say they committed suicide by drowning themselves. Some say there was a secret way out of the valley only they knew of.”

  He paused dramatically.

  “And some say that ‘fish-people’ came to them through the waterfall pool and took them away to safety.”

  “Fish-people?”

  Luke and Josh both examined my expression carefully, as Josh nodded seriously.

  “Like in swimming underwater without oxygen?” I whispered.

  Josh nodded.

  A chill raced up my spine in spite of the warm afternoon sunshine. I fought to fix the mask of normality on my face, staring at my fishing line intently, because inside I was screaming in terror as snapshots of my nightmare forced an unwelcome entry into daylight.

  I’d been underwater for five minutes, and hadn’t drowned.

  The memory of that capsule of time had, until now, eluded me in my waking hours. I’d spent countless hours in my therapist’s office trying to remember the sequence of events that’d led up to Brent’s drowning, the theory being that once I faced the horror, I’d be able to move on. None of the techniques she’d applied had worked, the memory remaining vague and wavey, just out of my reach.

  Now, cocooned in sunshine and the smell of summer, I was having tiny, fragmented memories of that time.

  I remembered the throb of the creepy crawly, the taste of chlorine in my mouth. There’d been a silky sensation on my exposed skin, as if the water were more than just liquid. For a moment I remembered the pain. It wasn’t like my nightmare though, I didn’t feel the pain as I did in the nightmare, but I remembered it, as one remembers a toothache.