Running to Stand Still

by J Theron

  RUNNING TO STAND STILL

  By

  J Theron

  Copyright ©2016 by J. Theron

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or part by any means existing without written permission from the author.

  For my husband. I love you. Always.

  PART ONE

  The ocean is always beautiful when there is a storm coming. I cannot help but feel a sense of melancholy when the wind makes that mournful howling sound as it rushes around the corners of the houses that overlook the crashing waves and the dark ominous clouds. The sound is deafening and it almost succeeds in distracting me from my sorrow as I long for the company of the only person I have ever loved. I have often wondered how my life would have turned out if I stayed home that night so many years ago. Would I have been in this abyss of darkness, this black tunnel with no light at the end?

  CHAPTER 1

  Danielle was able to recall every detail of the day she first laid eyes on Michael. It was summer in Jeffreys Bay and it was a day like any other.

  Danielle was playing miniature golf with her sister and friends on the roof of the Beach Hotel that evening. The hotel was situated on the beachfront and was the place to go for all social gatherings. The flat roof had an 18 hole miniature golf course and underneath the golf course was the big hall. The hall had massive glass doors that opened onto the patio surrounding the swimming pool and beyond the pool the expansive lawns stretched to the white sand of the beach.

  Sometimes during spring tide, the waves were so big it would reach the lawn and once even the swimming pool. Danielle was fifteen years old and too young to go to the dance inside the hotel even though the music made her desperate to get inside. U2 and Bon Jovi were blaring through the windows of the hall inside the hotel where all the older than eighteen teenagers were dancing.

  The weather was warm and humid and she was feeling lethargic from spending the whole day on the beach. She was losing the game, not only because she was the youngest, but she was distracted by the boy that was playing ahead of them. He was playing with another boy who resembled him so closely, it could only be his brother and they were laughing and joking. She recognised him instantly. Their moving van was parked in the narrow street the whole day, making it impossible for the neighbourhood children to play the usual afternoon game of cricket in the street. They had moved into the vacant house, three houses down from Danielle’s house.

  He was helping to unload the van that morning when she saw him for the first time. He must have been about seventeen or eighteen and he was very tall and lean. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of board shorts, as he unloaded box after box from the moving van. Danielle had never noticed boys before, but she could not help but stare as she was sitting on the front lawn of their house. He had very dark hair, neatly cut with lighter streaks from the sun.

  She could not see his features clearly from the distance that morning but now, on the roof of the Beach Hotel, she was close enough to get a better look. He had a beautiful face, if one could describe a boy as beautiful. His eyes were a clear liquid blue colour and his younger brother had the same beautiful blue eyes. The brothers seemed to have a strong bond and she was curious whether they had other siblings.

  It was three days later when she saw the new boy again although she had been walking her sister’s French poodle up and down the street past his house trying in vain to catch a glimpse of him. There was a party on the beach that evening and the air was humid and stifling with ominous looking clouds gathering on the horizon. She was sitting quietly under a sun umbrella even though the sun had already set.

  Her head was downcast and she was absentmindedly playing with the sand, letting it run through her fingers. She accompanied her eighteen year old sister Rachel, but Rachel was annoyed with her, through no fault of her own. Their parents forced Rachel to take Danielle to the beach party because they were having dinner with friends in Port-Elizabeth. Rachel saw Danielle as an annoying little sister and she ignored Danielle, leaving her to her own devices.

  “Good evening. May I join you?” Danielle looked up to find the object of her three day obsession standing in front of her. She was so astounded that she could not utter a single word.

  “My name is Michael le Roux. May I sit down?” he asked politely.

  “Why do you want to sit here?” she asked incredulously, slowly regaining some of her composure.

  “I suspect you have the best spot. It’s going to rain within the next twenty minutes and you’re sitting under the only umbrella.”

  “Oh.” She struggled to keep the disappointment from her voice.

  “Please, sit down. This isn’t my umbrella. I think if it does rain the owner will claim it and we’ll be stuck in the rain. It’s not watertight anyway,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Maybe we’re lucky and this umbrella doesn’t have an owner?” He had a slightly amused grin on his face as he sat down gracefully.

  “Why is a beautiful girl sitting all by herself?” Michael smiled and Danielle realised she was gaping.

  “Are you referring to me?” she asked, pointing at her chest.

  Michael nodded. “I was standing over there by the fire and I noticed you sitting here, very deep in thought, and I wondered what you were thinking. You had a very serious expression on your face.”

  “I was annoyed with my sister Rachel and her boyfriend Craig.” Danielle pointed to Rachel where she was deep in conversation with another boy. They were standing close together at the edge of the group of people. Rachel was tall and willowy and her dark straight hair was in a high ponytail. Craig was lanky and he had short blond hair. They were both dressed in jeans and sweaters.

  “My parents forced her to babysit me tonight and she has ignored me the whole evening. I’m not really friends with anyone here. They’re all seniors and hardly ever speak to me at school.”

  “May I ask your name?” Michael looked at Danielle with a look of intense interest on his face.

  “My name is Danielle Rousseau. We’re neighbours. Sort of. You live a few houses down the street from us. I saw you when you moved in.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Danielle. Have you lived in Jeffreys Bay long?”

  “I grew up here,” she replied with a shrug.

  “I could not think of a more idyllic place to grow up,” Michael said wistfully.

  Danielle rolled her eyes, before continuing with a wry smile on her face. “My mother is a maths teacher at the high school. She is also my maths teacher, being the only maths teacher in school. And she’s my netball coach! The joys of a small town. Be prepared for everybody to know your every move, Michael.”

  “Does it feel strange to see your mother at school every day?”

  “She treats me like any other student. I call her Mrs. Rousseau in class.”

  “Really?” He looked amused.

  “Once when I wanted to ask something at the dinner table, I raised my hand out of habit. My dad made fun of me for days. He thought it was hilarious.”

  “I have to say it’s just a little bit funny.”

  He had a huge grin on his face and she could not help but notice he had beautiful teeth, not perfectly straight, but perfect for his face and a dimple in his left cheek when he was smiling so broadly. His eyes were alive and intelligent and she could not suppress the feeling that he saw and noticed everything.

  “What does your dad do?” Michael asked.

  “He’s a doctor, a neurosurgeon. He works in the private hospital in Port-Elizabeth.” She a
bsentmindedly brushed her hair from her face and she became aware of him watching her very intently.

  “You have very beautiful hair, Danielle. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen a girl with hair down to her waist. I used to play with my little sister’s hair, but she has cut it very short. Do you mind?”

  He moved behind her and gently started to plait her hair. She was too taken aback to protest. His fingers were warm and gentle against her neck and she could hardly breathe. Danielle had never thought of her dark hair as beautiful. She has always had long hair and cutting it short had never occurred to her. Neither had she thought of herself as beautiful, but lately she was getting more attention from the boys at school. She had suddenly grown very tall in the last year, making her look older than fifteen, but the growth spurt left her very thin and boyish with very little female curves.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?” Michael asked nonchalantly.

  “I don’t. My parents won’t allow me to date until I’m sixteen.” Danielle could feel his fingers becoming still.

  “How old are you?” he asked, sounding slightly perplexed.

  “I’m fifteen, almost sixteen. How old are you?”

  “I’m eighteen. I finished high school this year. I’m joining the military next year for my mandatory two year service.” He did not sound very enthusiastic about the prospect of going to the military for two years.

  “I must admit I did think you were older than fifteen. You are very tall for a girl of fifteen.” His fingers slowly resumed the task of plaiting her hair in a myriad of tiny little plaits. Danielle absentmindedly wondered how long it would take that evening to get all the plaits out of her hair.

  “How can you tell if I’m tall when I am sitting down?” she asked teasingly. “Have you been watching me?”

  Michael cleared his throat and momentarily stopped plaiting her hair. “I noticed you when you arrived with your sister earlier.”

  “Why did I not see you? You’re very tall and kind of hard to miss.”

  “I was sitting on the beach watching the surf. I was behind the group of people standing around the fire.”

  Danielle was quiet as she secretly revelled in the knowledge that Michael had been watching her when she noticed that it had started to rain softly and the other people on the beach were packing up the tables and chairs that were scattered on the beach.

  She was wondering whether they should also go when Rachel unexpectedly spoke very close to her ear. “Danielle, it’s raining and we should go home.” Danielle looked up to find Rachel standing right beside her.

  Michael leaned around Danielle and lifted his hand in greeting. “Hi Rachel. I’m Michael. We moved to your street recently.”

  Rachel turned to him and gaped for a second before she regained her composure. He certainly looked very sexy in his jeans and tight fitting, grey Billabong sweater. Danielle tried to suppress her amusement at her sister’s reaction to this perfect boy sitting next to her under the umbrella, playing with her hair.

  “Hello, uhm, Michael. I met your sister on the beach yesterday. She told me you moved here from Cape Town. Pleased to meet you,” Rachel said, still slightly flustered.

  “Would it be okay if I walked Danielle home?” he asked politely.

  He had a charming smile on his face and it occurred to Danielle that he could probably sell sand in the Sahara with a smile like that. Rachel was a tough customer though and Danielle watched the exchange with amusement.

  “I don’t like the idea. We don’t know you and my parents will be very upset if I leave Danielle with a strange boy.” Rachel sounded indecisive.

  “You know where I live and I promise I will have her home shortly,” he said.

  Danielle caught Rachel’s eye and gave her a pleading look. Rachel appeared momentarily worried and then seemed to relax.

  “Okay. Remember I know where to find you,” Rachel said with just a hint of a threat in her voice before she pointed to Michael’s house that was visible from the beach, “and don’t push your luck. The only reason I’m consenting to this, is because it’s a small town and my dad owns a shotgun. And everybody knows everybody.” She glared at him a few seconds and then turned around abruptly to join Craig and his friends.

  “She’s feisty, isn’t she?” Michael chuckled.

  “You have no idea,” Danielle replied. “I sometimes feel sorry for poor Craig.”

  “Are you cold, or can we stay a little longer?” Michael asked with a boyishly appealing smile on his face.

  “We do have the use of this umbrella and the owner is still at large, so we might as well stay and talk.” She shrugged her shoulders. She did not want to appear too eager for his company.

  “What do you want to do when you are finished with school?” Michael continued his subtle interrogation while plaiting her hair again. She could not quite figure out why he was so interested in talking to her.

  “I want to study medicine at Stellenbosch University.” She hesitated before continuing, “I want to be a heart surgeon.”

  “Why do you want to be a doctor? Is it because your father is a doctor?” He sounded genuinely interested.

  Danielle rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath before she said, “It’s something I find difficult to talk about. I prefer people to assume it’s because my father’s a doctor. I do not usually reveal what my plans are beyond medical school.”

  “Sometimes speaking to a stranger is the best possible option. They have no preconceived notions of who you are and what to expect,” he said thoughtfully.

  Danielle was indecisive but she felt strangely compelled to tell Michael what she could not discuss with her family because they worried excessively. “My best friend was born with a congenital heart defect,” she said. He did not respond but waited patiently for her to continue. “We went to the same pre-school and we were inseparable. She died when we were thirteen. She had surgery which went wrong. I did not do so well when she died and my family had no idea how to cope with my loss. I have wanted to be a heart surgeon ever since.”

  Michael gently squeezed her shoulder in a wordless response and she remained absolutely still as his fingers brushed her scalp, separating her hair to continue plaiting it. The sensation his warm fingers elicited brought her out of her momentary melancholy. She realised she did not want to talk about herself any longer and decided to steer the conversation away from herself.

  “What do you want to do when you are finished with your military service?” she asked.

  “I want to go to Paris and study art at École nationale supérieure des Beaux-Arts. I want to join the ranks of Degas, Delacroix, Monet and Renoir. ” Danielle could hear the passion in his voice. He hesitated for a few seconds before continuing, “I have to get past my dad first though. He wants me to become a lawyer like him...” His voice trailed off and she immediately realised it must be a point of contention between him and his father.

  “What does your mom say?” she asked curiously.

  He dropped his hands from her hair and did not answer immediately. He shifted so that he faced her. “She died six months ago. She had breast cancer. She was sick for a very long time before she passed away. That’s why my father moved here. I guess he wanted to get away from Cape Town and all the memories.” Michael’s voice was filled with sadness. He did not say anything else but averted his gaze to the ocean and sat very quietly watching the waves and the soft rain.

  “I’m very sorry, Michael. I was heartbroken when my friend died. I cannot even begin to imagine how it must have felt to lose your mother.”

  Danielle sat motionless, feeling sorry for this charming, beautiful boy, trying to see his expression in the dark. His hurt was so much fresher than hers and she could tell he was still grieving deeply. After a few minutes he seemed to come out of his reverie and gently started combing through her hair with his fingers, loosening the plaits again.

  She was becoming mesmerized by the gentle caress of his fingers in her hair, her scalp tingle
d where he touched her and her heart was hammering in her chest. She decided she needed to continue the conversation to distract her from these feelings completely foreign to her.

  “I saw you with a boy the other night playing miniature golf. Is he your brother?” she asked.

  “He’s my younger brother, Thomas. My sister Carin is one minute older than Thomas.” Michael pointed to a boy and girl standing a few metres away. They were huddling around the fire with a group of other people. The soft rain did not seem to bother them as they were laughing and joking with the others.

  “They are twins? They look nothing alike,” Danielle exclaimed.

  Thomas was tall and lean like his brother with the same dark hair. Carin was small and petite and had short blond hair. They were both very attractive and Danielle could only imagine how popular they were going to be in school next year.

  “Yeah well, they are not exactly identical,” he said.

  “Really? No kidding! I’m not a complete idiot!” Danielle sounded offended and Michael laughed and tugged her hair.

  “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He was still laughing. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I know you didn’t mean it that way but I can’t even count how many times people have asked me if they were identical. I couldn’t resist.” He held up his hand in surrender.

  “How old are they?” she asked, feeling less offended after his explanation.

  “They turned sixteen a few months ago,” he replied, his mirth still evident on his face. He narrowed his eyes all of a sudden and looked at her strangely. “You were watching me when we were playing miniature golf?” He could not hide the faint note of satisfaction in his voice.

  “You were right in front of us. It was impossible not to see you,” she replied, sounding more defensive than she intended.

  “Mm. I wonder.” He looked at her and smiled. Suddenly she found it very hard to breathe normally. “I think we should probably go home. I don’t want your sister to be worried.”