“You guys have to see this,” I called.
Luke waved a hand at me in dismissal. “Yeah, after the game, Alex.”
Josh got up and walked around to the pc.
“There they are, Josh.” I pointed at the screen.
He was quiet for a long time while he read.
“Luke, you really should come and see this,” he called, his voice a little breathless.
Luke hauled himself off the couch and walked over to us. He read the article quickly, and then shrugged non-commitally.
“OK,” he said, sounding less than impressed.
“It’s exactly how Josh described them,” I pushed him.
He looked at me blankly.
“Oh, you were inside already,” Josh said, proceeding to fill Luke in on the physical description of the fish-people he’d given me.
Luke was thoughtful for a few moments. “It doesn’t explain the Talita story though,” he said. “I mean, why would they want to take her?”
“So you’re saying you believe they exist?” I asked.
He grinned. “Believe is a strong word, but I’m more convinced than I was.”
“This is so cool.” Josh was bouncing on his toes. “Dude, you have mythical creatures living on your doorstep!”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Luke replied.
Josh suddenly clutched the back of my chair, spinning it around, while grabbing Luke’s arm at the same time.
“We have to go and look for them.” His face was alive with excitement.
The minute he’d suggested it, it was all I wanted to do.
“I thought you were scared of them?” I asked playfully. “You know their appetites are ferocious.”
He laughed. “Please, those stories are just to scare little kids away from the water so they won’t drown.”
“Guys, have you forgotten the ‘adventure zone’ restrictions?” Luke turned and pointed at the mountains. “Last time I checked those were a lot further than one kilometre away.”
“We could leave without telling the adults,” I suggested, clapping my hand over my mouth as soon as the words had left my lips. I couldn’t believe I’d just suggested that.
Never in my entire life had I ever even thought of sneaking out, even to go to a party. Now I was seriously considering running away from the farm, for what? To go on a wild-goose chase looking for fish-people in the mountains?
The more I tried to reason with myself that the idea of running away into Injisuthi was crazy, the more I wanted to go and look for the fish-people, wanted to do it with every cell in my body. Not just because I wanted to break out of the carefully constructed safe activities and emotions I’d created for myself since Brent died, but because something about the legend Josh had told me had made me feel more alive than I’d felt in the last three years, and I didn’t want that feeling to go away.
Josh laughed at me. “Wow, Alex, I didn’t realise you were so bored here.”
I grinned at him, relaxing a little. Josh didn’t think I was crazy, I could see by the light in his eyes that he was all for it.
“Guys, we can’t just run away.” Luke told us, looking incredulously between us. “My folks will go nuts.”
“So tell them we’re going to your youth camp thing,” I suggested, the opportune alibi turning the adventure into a real possibility. “With your Mom away, your Dad will be so busy he probably won’t even check up on us.”
Josh high-fived me, “Great idea, Alex!”
Luke was looking between the two of us like he was watching a tennis match.
“Come on, Luke, don’t be a wimp.” Josh punched him lightly on the arm. “You can’t go to the youth camp anyway, so why not do something fun this holiday. Unless you want to be stuck on the farm doing chores…”
Luke sighed and shook his head, grinning at his friend. “I am going to be in so much trouble if they find out.”
“We’ll be gone for the exact number of days and remember lots of details from the last two youth camps we’ve been on,” Josh promised. “That way when your folks ask questions we’ll have the story sorted.”
“When do we leave?” I asked, excitement fizzling through my veins.
“The camp starts tomorrow, so I’ll call Dad and let him know we’re going,” Luke promised.
We spent the rest of the afternoon packing backpacks and finding bits of food Luke didn’t think would go amiss.
Josh and I stood watching anxiously as Luke told his Dad about the youth camp, and asked if he and I could join it.
“Well, they said that one or two kids pulled out.” He’d answered a parental question.
Silence as he listened.
“No, there’s a whole group of people going, Dad, and lots of activities and stuff, we won’t wander away from the group.”
More talking from his parents.
Luke had nodded and made all the right obedient child noises before confirming that we wouldn’t see Allan before we left because the camp was due to start at eight and he was only due home at eleven.
He clicked the off button on the phone, checking carefully that the call had been disconnected, before turning to us and whooping excitedly, high-fiving as he went.
“Injisuthi, here we come!” he yelled.
I laughed, feeling happy for the first time in a long time.
Chapter 4
Beginnings
I opened my eyes a split second before I hit the water. It closed over my head sucking me under, my eyes stinging and lungs burning. A thumping noise echoed strangely in the absolute quiet of submersion. I started to panic, my arms and legs flailing as I imagined all sorts of explanations for the sound. A searing pain shot up the sides of my head and launched a deluge of black spots behind my eyes, as I broke through the surface of the water gasping for air.
Awkwardly treading water I tried to make sense of where I was. My panic only increased as I dove beneath the surface, searching through the murky water for something incredibly important, the memory of which kept slipping from my mind.
It took a couple of seconds to realise that I was at the farm and a further few seconds to recognise the Van Heerdens’ swimming pool, the sinister thumping, merely the throb of the creepy crawly cleaning the pool.
As I hauled myself shivering out of the pool, relief and utter annoyance flooded me. It was still dark, although the sky was starting to lighten in a rim along the eastern horizon, and a few overly enthusiastic birds had begun to sing.
I’d end up killing myself if I went sleepwalking while we were camping, I thought angrily as I slipped into the house, quickly ducking into the bathroom to avoid unwanted questions from the boys who were already stirring.
Half an hour later we left the house, a flock of geese winging their way across the dawn-tinted sky the only witnesses to the beginning of our great adventure.
The scrunch of our hiking boots on sun-crisped grass fell into a comfortable rhythm as Josh found the path that would take us out of Injisuthi’s skirts and into her waiting arms. Night’s melody of creaking crickets and croaking frogs soon gave way to the morning song of waking birds as the farmhouse became a dark spot on the distant horizon.
The mountain rose in softly rolling foothills at first as we followed the river upstream, but as the sun’s heat intensified so did the climb; the landscape became rockier, the grass raked short on wind exposed land.
The sky was a perfect turquoise with spider-web wisps of white cloud. Delicate flowers raised their beautiful faces to the sun between tussocks of grass, gracing the landscape with jewel-like shades of brilliant pink, purple and yellow. The clean air permeated every cell of my body as I gazed nature-struck at the beauty around me, imagining the huts of the tribe that had once lived here dotted just ahead of us in the traditional circle I’d seen drawn in history books at school.
Injisuthi continued to rise before us, majestic and mysterious. I skimmed her formidable peaks, highlighted by the depth of the shadows in the valleys.
My thoughts drifted to Josh’s tale of the fish-people as I watched a breeze ripple through the lush emerald grass that coated the mountain like fur.
What mysteries had these mountains seen unfold, I wondered. What inconsequential humans – or others – had played out the drama of their lives within her shadowed valleys or on her sunlit plains?
My eyes drifted with a few summer swallows, tracing their darting excitable flight. A hawk of sorts hung, seemingly motionless, in the sky as if from an invisible string, watching its unsuspecting prey, before dropping like a stone into the dark green of a valley.
What would it be like to live in these mountains, I wondered. To have no thought of money, or school, or complicated family scenarios… The simplicity of a life like that was alluring.
The river split into three large streams ahead of us, each of them winding their way back into the face of the mountain through densely wooded valleys.
We stopped to have a drink and decide which route to take.
“Let’s take the middle one,” Josh suggested. “Lower Injisuthi cave is about half an hour’s walk over the top of that waterfall.”
“I’ve done that walk with my Dad,” Luke replied, “there’s nothing interesting there. Why not take the furthest one and work backwards? That way, we’ll be able to cover all of them in one trip. Who knows when we’ll be allowed back into these mountains after this? And if my folks find out that we ran away…” He shook his head and laughed. “I’ll never see the outside of my bedroom again.”
I gazed at the valley Luke had been talking about. The trees seemed darker and bigger in that valley than in the nearer ones. The waterfall was also more pronounced, falling in a silvery streak down a sheer rock face. It was the most intriguing of all the valleys, an ancient, magical-looking place. A place where you’d expect to find something out of the ordinary like dwarves, or hobbits, or maybe even a mystical tribe of “fish-people”.
“So which one will it be, Alex?” Luke’s asked pointing at the valleys.
“Let’s go to that one.” I pointed to the furthest valley, excitement tingling in my fingertips. Luke grinned.
Josh growled and muttered something about girly daydreaming before picking up his backpack and stomping off.
Had I realised how far the valley was, I’m sure I would’ve chosen a different one.
We eventually reached a strange, sharply sloped field of spikily succulent aloe plants, the last hurdle before reaching the valley mouth. Water and wind erosion had washed most of the soil away leaving pocked, jagged rock exposed. The aloes rose from the reddish rock, like dead men’s fingers, into a perfectly blue sky.
We spread out in an uneven line picking our way through the rocky scrub, the midday sun beating relentlessly on our heads and shoulders. The breeze, which had been a welcome relief from the heat earlier, whistled and wailed eerily across the arid landscape like the hot breath of some ancient and terrifying creature of the deep.
The dust and heat chafed my cheeks, forcing me to focus on the ground a few paces ahead of me rather than out at the scenery.
Dappled shade invited us into the mouth of the valley. The waterfall I’d glimpsed earlier cut a white foaming gash into the mountain cliff in the distance. We followed the river, now just an energetically burbling stream, into the mouth of the valley.
We didn’t talk much as we picked our way along the riverbed. This place discouraged talking, as if the sound of human voices had been absent so long that breaking the silence would be almost disrespectful.
It was easy to move with the river at first, skirting glass-still pools, where the shallow water formed a skating rink for dozens of busy insects, and a resin-like resting place for tree roots and old leaves.
As we moved further and further into the valley it became more difficult to walk, the path choked with exploring tree roots and slippery loose soil, forcing us higher up the banks, clutching at the ancient tree trunks as we walked to keep from slipping into the river.
Eventually the valley floor flattened enough for us to scramble, slipping and sliding from tree root to tree root back to the river bed. It ebbed away from stream to trickle until all that was left was a tumble of fallen boulders, some as large as cars, all in varying shades of brown and even pale grey and greeny blue.
I hardly noticed the fringing of ferns and dusting of moss that carpeted the valley in little rivulets of greenery, as the day’s walk caught up with me, and I was no longer entranced by the beauty or mystery the valley had held.
Luke turned to look at us, grinning as he wiped sweat from his forehead.
“Let’s carry on until we reach the waterfall,” he suggested.
Only once he’d suggested it did the sound register. The distant echo of falling water floated on the still, green air. Josh and I agreed and picked up our pace, challenging Luke to a boulder-hopping race as the sound of the waterfall intensified.
The sides of the valley tightened around us like a drawstring bag. Great leafy trees intertwined their branches above our heads ominously, as our enthusiasm was dampened by exhaustion and the eerie light.
The green-tinged air felt older here. The trees seemed to have seen too much.
The echoed sound of our breathing and crunch of our footsteps added to the strange atmosphere of apprehension.
Rounding a bend in the valley brought us to the opening of the most magical place I’d ever seen.
Smooth curved cliff face swirled upward, the rock streaked in delicate shades of green and grey lichen, forming a bowl the only entrance to which we were standing in.
The waterfall dove in an angry froth down the cliff face pummelling already submissively smooth boulders at its base. Ferns, grasses and spongy moss spilled out from the bottom of the waterfall interspersed occasionally with tiny white-flowered plants to frame a pool of astonishingly blue, rippling water.
The scene, which would have made a great postcard, was made even more breathtaking by the sapphire-blue colouring of the water of the pool. The colour intensified towards its centre to a dark jade green. The sides of the pool looked granite-smooth and almost see-through which made the water sparkle, iridescent and inviting. It felt like it was drawing me forward and I realised as I moved that Luke and Josh were moving forward in the same dream-like state.
We stripped to our costumes and the boys raced for the waterfall where they squawked as the icy mountain water stung their effort-warmed skin. I slipped quietly into the other end of the sapphire pool, my breath catching as the cold water shocked me all over.
It was utterly delicious.
For the first time in over three years, I was really enjoying water again. To adjust better I steeled myself against the instinctive fear and dove beneath the surface, opening my eyes, amazed at how crystal clear it was. Even with the water distortion I could clearly make out the shape of the pool all the way around, along with smooth boulders and pebbles that tumbled, at the waterfall side of the pool, towards the bottom which was inky with depth.
Coming up for air I floated on my back, relishing the cool water and weightlessness it offered, at peace for the first time in years. I’d drifted to the middle of the pool watching Josh and Luke taking turns to see who could stand under the force of the waterfall the longest, when something long and slippery slithered around my ankle.
Immediately the fear that had haunted me incapacitated me for a few moments. The nightmare and memories sprang to forefront of my mind and panic shot through me as I rushed to get away from the water.
My fear was quickly tempered with embarrassment as Luke and Josh doubled over with laughter, pointing at me and trying to breathe through their amusement.
“Alex,” Luke wheezed, “is that holy water? You all but walked on
it to get out of there!”
Josh let out a choke of laughter at this comment, and staggered towards me, slipping on the glass-smooth rocks and ending in a tangle of limbs in the water.
“Something brushed against my leg,” I informed them with as much dignity as I could muster, as I lifted my chin and stalked off toward our backpacks.
“It’s getting late, let’s go guys,” I tossed over my shoulder.
The boys followed me, still giggling as we shrugged on clothes and packs ready to carry on hiking.
We retraced our steps out of the beautiful hollow, and started to climb the side of the valley to reach the plateau on top, which would take us to our first camping site – a cave the boys had heard of.
I was grateful when Luke and Josh’s playful banter was stunted by the steep climb. Finding nooks for the toes of my shoes and vegetation to assist in pulling me up the forty-five degree angle kept my head down and mind busy.
We stopped halfway up to catch our breath. The valley spread below us in varying shades of green and brown, the waterfall visible on our right, the stream on our left.
Something niggled at the edges of my mind, as we continued to climb, a thought as slippery as a fish.
It took me about five minutes to eventually catch it and when I did I stopped short, Josh crashing into me.
“What’s up, Ally Cat? You tired?” he asked playfully.
I was frozen, my mind racing, trying to explain what we’d all seen, and missed.
“Where does the water go?” I whispered, my eyes still glazed as I tried to make sense of it all.
“What?” asked Luke. He’d slithered down the steep path when he heard Josh’s exclamations at walking into me.
“Where does the water go?” I asked more insistently this time.
Both boys looked at me, and then at each other, their expressions puzzled.
“What do you mean?” Josh asked.
“The water from the pool, where does it go?” I was excited now trying to slot the pieces of the puzzle together. “Think about it. There is the waterfall, so it obviously flows from its source to the waterfall, then there is the river further downstream, but there’s nothing in between. Where does the water go between the pool and the river?”
Water Page 4
