Claire's Prayer

by Yvonne Cloete

  Seth knew that what had seemed just clinginess and desperation for promises of wedding bells in Carol was something deeper in Claire. She didn’t just want a wedding; she wanted a marriage. She wanted – and deserved – love and mutuality. But that was something that he certainly did not want, or need, right now: the ties of a wife. Especially one that twined his gut in knots and occupied his thoughts to the exclusion of all else, he thought bitterly. No, he’d just have to forget about Claire like that, he decided. She wasn’t going anywhere soon, and he couldn’t keep tearing himself up like this. First things first, he needed to clear the air. He supposed that’d mean an apology.

  Trudging back to the house to wash, Seth was not looking forward to dinner. Aside from dreading seeing Claire, he found he could barely bring himself to face sitting alongside the so-effusively-happy couple. That was another thing: Seth couldn’t quite fathom the discomfort Tony and Naomi’s engagement was causing in his mind. Tony was a good man; there was no-one he’d rather have as a brother-in-law. They had talked a lot during the past days and Seth had been shocked at the depth of feeling Tony had revealed himself to have for Naomi. He seemed to consider the ties of marriage to be more akin to celebration garlands than the restraints Seth had always been so keen to avoid.

  After what seemed mere seconds since she’d closed her eyes, Claire awoke with a fright. The wind had risen, and the billowing curtains had knocked her perfume off the dressing table. Leaning back against the headboard as her heartbeats quietened, she eventually slipped off the bed and pulled the offending window closed. Heavy grey clouds were racing across the sky, and an ominous stillness filled the late afternoon. Glancing at her wristwatch, Claire realised that she had only fifteen minutes to make her way to the main house; they’d arranged to have pre-dinner drinks to celebrate Naomi and Tony’s future. She quickly splashed her sleep-flushed face and pulled a brush through the thick curtain of her hair. Out here in the wild, she had let it grow longer than she usually wore it. Tossing her head, she watched in the mirror as it flew in golden strands around her head, and then settled into a flowing fall that came, she saw, to just below her shoulder-blades. It would have to do. Grabbing her jacket from the floor where she’d distractedly left it, she left the lodge with seconds to spare. Hurrying up the pathway, feeling biting apprehension about seeing Seth but determinedly striding onwards, she entered the lounge. Naomi was curled up on the sofa, and Claire noticed that Tony was opening a bottle of champagne. Greeting the two of them and hugging Tony warmly, she took a seat. The door swung inwards, announcing Seth’s arrival, and Claire felt suddenly nauseous. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take of the constant tension she felt at Impunzi now: the simultaneous magnetism and antagonism she felt for Seth, the hope, the rage, the guilt, the recriminations… Avoiding looking at him, she focused instead on the glass of champagne Tony held out to her. Seeing Naomi’s shining eyes and her finacé’s easy confidence, Claire knew she couldn’t bring herself just to leave. She knew she’d have to face it out.

  The disparate quartet had just toasted to years of married bliss when the dinner gong sounded. Sitting down at her usual place, Claire tensed as Seth settled next to her. Trying to ignore his presence, Claire spent most of the meal speaking to Naomi. Seth, though, seemed to feel no such discomfort. He seemed actively to be trying to engage her in his conversation: too often her eyes accidently clashed with his, and when they did she felt like a fly under a microscope. Seth seemed to be taking pleasure in making her feel uncomfortable. Consequently, she had more wine than she normally would and felt still less in control of her mind’s volatile whims to scream, cry and self-destruct all at once. Hugging Naomi again and pleading exhaustion as soon as coffee was offered, she politely refused Seth’s offer to walk her back, bade them all a ‘good night’ and left.

  The beginnings of a headache beat an insistent rhythm in Claire’s head. Gratefully leaving the main house, she stood a while in the velvet darkness, allowing the tension to flow out of her. She felt drained. Back in the lodge, unable to concentrate on her Bible reading, she closed the well-used book in self-disgust. Instead, she closed her eyes and allowed its scripture to float up from her memory. Whoever ignores instruction despises himself, she remembered… Well, that certainly sounded like her. Tears came to Claire’s eyes. She detested the way Seth made her feel, needy and vunerable but, even after he’d insulted her so terribly, she seemed to have no self-control where he was concerned. …but he who listens to reproof gains intelligence, Claire completed the proverb. He who listens to reproof, Claire echoed to herself. I’m listening, Lord. Please let me hear you.

  Clicking the light off, she lay for many sleepless hours, trying to bring some semblance of order back into her mind. Eventually sleep crept over her and stilled the turmoil in her heart.

  Unknowingly, Claire had slept through the echoing gong that signalled breakfast-time. The sun was already quite high in the azure-blue sky when she finally forced her eyelids open. Aghast, she fumbled for her watch. It took a few seconds for the time to register: it was less than a quarter to ten. With a groan, she sank back against the pillows. What would everyone think of her, sleeping until this hour? Fifteen minutes later found her showered and ready to face what was left of the morning and, after enjoying numerous cups of tea, she reluctantly made her way to the main house. Claire felt relieved, but slightly let down, on finding no-one there except Joseph, who was busily baking scones. Gladly accepting a couple – fresh-baked, warm and smothered in strawberry jam – an idea suddenly came to her.

  “Joseph, would it be too much trouble if I asked for my breakfast to be brought to the lodge?”

  Eying her candidly, Joseph straightened after removing the final batch of scones from the oven. “You don’t want to eat at the big house, Miss Claire?”

  Concerned that he might misconstrue her request as a slight on his breakfasts so far, she answered quickly, “No – no, it’s not that, Joseph. It’s just that I came here to work, and now I’m really behind. They’ve been keeping me so busy!” she added, trying to lighten her tone. “It’ll just be for a while… Is that okay?”

  “Okay, Miss Claire,” he assured her; “that’s no problem for me.”

  Claire noticed something too insightful pass across Joseph’s eyes, but couldn’t face it. Thanking him for the lovely scones and feeling quite pleased with her decision, Claire made her way unhurriedly back to the lodge.

  Joseph watched her go. He certainly didn’t mind taking breakfast to Claire: she was such an easy guest to please… unlike some of the fussy tourists he’d seen come to the ranch. Sighing as he transferred his scones from tray to cooling rack, Joseph wondered if it was really Claire’s work schedule that kept her away – or if Seth had messed things up.

  Back at the lodge, Claire moved a chair out into the warming sunlight and spent the rest of the morning sketching the monkeys. Stopping only briefly to eat her lunch, she continued her work throughout the afternoon, typing up her notes. Only her aching hands forced her to rest and, at about four o’clock, she smiled as she reread her progress with Shoko’s story so far: three double-page spreads lay in front of her.

  Shoko huddled against the tree branch, rain dripping down his face. He shivered, and tried again to look for his family troop. How he wished he had listened to his mama and not wandered off! Now he was lost and all alone.

  Shoko didn’t like being alone. It was scary. Where, oh where, was his family? Shaking the rain off his furry body, the little monkey dashed down and ran to another tree. Maybe this was the way home! Suddenly, Shoko stopped in horror. What was that he had seen?

  A huge baboon was asleep, right in his path! Shoko’s eyes darted from side to side – which way now? The sleepy baboon opened one deep brown eye, and then the other. He stared at the little monkey in front of him. Shoko’s body couldn’t, wouldn’t move, he was so scared!

  The baboon stretched, stood to its full height and barked out, “What are you doing here, little
monkey?”

  With chattering teeth, Shoko whispered, “I’m l… l… lost!”

  “Hmmm…” the baboon rumbled. “You must belong to the troop of monkeys that live in the trees behind the rocks and over the swamp.”

  Shoko made to bound off in the direction the baboon had pointed, but he hadn’t finished.

  “You’ll make a tasty lunch!” the baboon bellowed.

  The baboon reached out a long, strong arm covered in dark hair, and leaned down towards Shoko.

  Shoko tried to see a way out, but the baboon was just too big. Mama was right! The bush was not safe!

  Shoko closed his eyes tightly and waited for the baboon to grab him…

  Claire laid down her pages. The rest could follow later; for now, she’d work on her drawings. She fished out her first sketch of the baboon, which she’d drawn the day after Naomi’s braai. She’d overdone it a bit, but it was good start. Certainly there was something hauntingly paralysing in the baboon’s deep, dark stare…

  Finally going inside to make a fresh pot of tea, Claire heard the sound of singing coming from somewhere nearby. Just as the kettle boiled, Naomi’s smiling face appeared around the door.

  “Aha! The elusive Claire. What have you been doing with yourself all day?”

  Smiling in genuine pleasure at seeing Naomi’s friendly face, and adding an extra cup and saucer to the tray, Claire waved Naomi to sit down.

  “Oh, this and that. I woke up horrifyingly late, but Joseph gave me some of his delicious scones. The rest of the day I’ve been sketching the monkeys and planning my new book! Very productive. How about you?”

  Accepting her tea, Naomi settled comfortably on the sofa. Happiness shone from her eyes.

  “I spent the day with Tony. Oh, Claire… Stop me if I get insufferable, but it’s great to be in love like this! I wish I could be with him every moment of every day and night!” Naomi pulled a doe-eyed look of exaggerated mooning and giggled at herself. “Do you want to hear our wedding plans?” she asked, with a self-consciously raised eybrow.

  Nodding interestedly, Claire listened as Naomi talked on.

  “Well, where do I start? We’ve set the wedding date for the beginning of next month…” Seeing Claire was ready to question the date, Naomi held up a stalling hand. “Yes, I know it’s soon! But I’ve been waiting for this for such a long time, so why keep waiting? I don’t want to waste any more time apart.” Naomi looked across at Claire, appreciating how close they’d grown in the short time they’d known each other.

  “Anyway,” she continued, “I want you to be a bridesmaid, so the wedding has to be before you go back to Ireland!” Watching Claire’s tanned cheeks flush with happy surprise, she rattled on. “Seth has agreed to let us build our own house on the other side of the kopje, you know – so we’ll not have to leave the ranch. I’m just so glad Tony wants to stay. Until it’s finished, we’ll live in the main house together. Speaking of which…” Naomi leaned in conspiratorially. “… I went into town this morning and got the pill.” Laughing as she watched Claire blush a rosy pink, Naomi chided her. “Come on, Claire – the wedding is so soon! I’ve got to be careful, now!”

  Claire’s mind was whirring. She’d always viewed her virginity as a precious gift that she would give to her husband on their wedding night, and wondered instinctively why Naomi and Tony couldn’t just wait a little longer – but she didn’t share her thoughts. She knew a lot of good people who didn’t think quite as she did… and Naomi and Tony were certainly in love.

  Pouring two more cups of tea while she gathered her thoughts, she answered honestly. “This is so exciting, Naomi – and… well, thanks so much! I’ve never been a bridesmaid before and… and I can’t think of anyone I’d be happier to see get everything she wants.” The girls locked eyes. Then, laughing at their sentimentality and breaking the tension, Claire asked, “Is the wedding going to be here at the ranch?”

  Nodding and grinning cheekily, Naomi answered, “Seth nearly had a hernia about us wanting it so soon, but – after he calmed down! – I told him we want things pretty simple. We decided we want a garden ceremony, and luckily the lodges will be empty so the few guests who travel far can sleep over. I know exactly what I want… it’s like I’ve subconsciously been planning it for years! I’ve already spoken to a designer in town, and she can make my dress – and the bridesmaids’ dresses, too, in really good time… so, now to pick out the invitations!”

  The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, Claire glad of the distraction – and hostile to the tiny voice in the back of her mind that wondered what it might be like if she and Seth were in love, instead. It was a voice of delusion, Claire told herself. Naomi shared her plans for their house, which were characteristically quirky and stylish. Watching her talk, Claire felt honestly happy for her: her future, at least, was secure.

  As the stars started to appear in the twilit sky, the two girls walked, still chattering, to the main house for supper. To Claire’s surprise and, she supposed, relief, Seth was absent from the head of the table. Unable to bring herself to ask where he was, Claire was relieved when Tony soon informed them that he’d gone to visit Simon. Naomi, unsurprised, explained that her brother’d probably gone to discuss the culling of elephants in the National Park with local ranchers: not a happy task, but sporadically a necessary one. As Claire’s brain turned over during the meal, her gladness to find Seth gone morphed slowly into anxious irritation. Rather than Simon’s capable, practical friendship with Seth, she remembered his daughter. Visions of Naomi’s birthday braai flashed through her mind: Carol clinging to Seth, Carol flinging passionate words at him, Carol’s eyes flashing jealously at Claire… Unwelcomely, her stomach tied itself in knots, and she only picked at the succulent pork loin on her plate.

  Tony’s voice broke through her sullen reverie. “Claire, Seth left the video of Operation Noah out for you, he said.”

  Naomi looked up enthusiastically. “We can watch it after dinner! Would you like to?”

  Claire nodded, glad of another hour or so during which she would have to think of something other than Seth. “Naomi told me a bit about the building of Kariba dam – I’d love to watch it! If you two have no other plans, of course?”

  Eyebrows raised in mock innocence, Naomi assured her that they were planning on having a relaxing evening, and the three of them took their coffee into the lounge. Tony loaded the VHS with a whirr and, for the next hour, Claire was transfixed as she watched how Rupert Fothergill and his rangers rescued stranded animals. The rising waters had isolated many of the animals in the area on small islands, unable to find enough food for long, or to escape. Some 5,000 animals were rescued and taken to safety, she learned: the team worked tirelessly, sailing the rising waters and capturing the trapped animals. What Naomi hadn’t mentioned was that the Kariba project had also displaced some 50,000 – fifty thousand, Claire processed – Gwenbe Tonga tribesmen, who were left homeless. In addition, over a hundred people had died during the dam’s four-year construction, in part due to unprecedented floods that damaged and amost destroyed the half-built wall. The local Nyangas warned that Nyami-Nyami, the river god, had been displeased with the project and caused the floods. Looking at the completed, 21-metre thick concrete arch that towered 130 metres above the narrow gorge through which the mighty Zambezi river once thundered, Claire could see its imposition as well as its benefits: the deaths as well as the life it had facilitated. Yes, Kariba was now a bountiful source of hydroelectric energy – but at what cost? The loss of life, the dispossession… Was it worth it? Claire could feel the pain of the Nyangas’s belief, that their homeland and its gods resented the interference. What was raw, and natural, was never placidly restrained.

  Claire was quiet as the video ended, but quickly remembered where she was when she looked up to see her hosts’ faces turned towards her. “Tony, Naomi,” she said, “that was fascinating – the rescue: what a wonderful thing for those men to do! What’s Kariba like now? Do many tourists go t
here?”

  Tony assured her with easy confidence that Kariba was indeed a very popular tourist destination.

  “The town over there’s geared pretty perfectly for tourists,” Naomi told her, “and on the lake itself there are house-boat trips, fishing and – of course – viewings of the wildlife! Maybe we really should take you over – it’s pretty far, but if you’re definitely keen…?”

  Claire asserted her enthusiasm in no uncertain terms, not knowing that their trip would be prevented. Irrepressibly, Claire yawned. Refusing more coffee, offered in response, she bade the couple goodnight and walked back to the lodge alone.

  Now free from distractions on the floodlit pathway, her mind betrayed her. It seemed less affected by the images of destruction and heroism she’d watched than with what it had created itself: it flickered across images of Seth… Seth and Carol… Claire stopped, raising her head to the heavens, as her eyes filled with tears. Again, alomost hopelessly, she implored God to help her. She’d been right: she couldn’t cope here much longer. For the first time, she wished that she hadn’t come to Zimbabwe. Seth and this untamed country had worked some sort of magic over her. She felt like a leaf on the wind, tossed and thrown about, no longer certain of anything. Wiping her wet cheeks with clenched fists, Claire angrily walked on. After Naomi’s wedding she would go home, she told herself, back to Ireland. Why should I feel like this anyway? she demanded. What right do I have to feel jealous of Seth, or to envy Carol? Seth did not belong to her, she knew, and just short weeks ago she had not even known he existed. Besides which, she reminded herself wretchedly, she wanted nothing at all to do with him since he’d revealed his true intentions. Carol’s welcome to him, she told herself, unconvincingly.