Edge of the Rain

by Beverley Harper

  Her words made him feel guilty as usual. But at sixteen, they also made him rebellious. Jeff Carter was waiting for an answer. ‘Yes, sir. I’d like that, sir.’ Once again his voice shook as Jeff pumped his hand vigorously.

  ‘Don’t be too sure, kid. It’s hard work.’

  Alex was delighted. One day after school officially finished and here he was getting a job. His mother couldn’t object too much. He could always say it was for the experience. He felt an overwhelming sense of relief that he now had the perfect excuse for not going home. ‘Where do you live, sir?’

  ‘Ghanzi.’

  Uh oh! Shakawe might be the back of nowhere but at least it had the Okavango River. Ghanzi was much further south. Hot, sandy, dry desert country. ‘Where do you drive the cattle to, sir?’

  ‘Lobatse.’

  Holy shit! Five hundred miles of fuck all. He had heard about these drives. They were reputed to be the roughest in the world. And the men were known to be some of the toughest in the world. Between Ghanzi and Kang, a distance of almost two hundred miles, there were only four places where permanent water could be found, the last of which was halfway. That left one hundred miles of nothing but sand and heat.

  ‘You still on, kid?’

  The big wide world. He had to start somewhere. Memories of three dead friends stirred in him. Life was to be lived, not stuck away at home with parents who inevitably made him feel as though he were somehow to blame for their disappointments. He might as well be dead too. Swallowing hard he said, ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Good boy. I’m leaving day after tomorrow. You can ride with me.’

  ‘Ride?’ He had visions of galloping halfway across the country.

  ‘You betcha. Got a little Cessna single engine. Best little bird in the business.’

  Alex was suddenly wary. The man sounded as though he were bragging. Instinct made Alex want to know more. ‘You a trained pilot, Mr Carter?’

  ‘Nah. Never got round to that. Anyway, what’s to learn? Once you get it up in the air you’ve only got one option left.’

  ‘How long have you been flying, sir?’

  ‘Two months.’

  Uh oh.

  Aunty Dorie was uncertain. ‘What about your parents, child? They’ll be expecting you home.’

  ‘Aunty Dorie, I’ve left school. I have to look out for myself.’

  ‘Leave the boy alone, Doris.’ Uncle Hugh was sober for a change. ‘He’s right. He’s a man now. His life is his own responsibility.’

  ‘But Hugh! Ghanzi? It’s so far.’

  ‘No further than Shakawe. Closer in fact.’

  ‘Only for crows,’ she retorted crisply.

  Uncle Hugh chuckled. ‘He’ll be flying there won’t he?’

  ‘Yes.’ She was still doubtful. ‘But what about the cattle drive?’

  ‘What about it? It’ll make a real man of him.’

  ‘If he survives it,’ she muttered under her breath.

  There was no way to let his parents know. Paulie would have to tell them.

  Paulie was full of envy. ‘Wow, you’re lucky. No more school. You’ll make lots of money.’

  Alex thought so too. ‘Never mind, you’ve only got three more years.’

  ‘Five.’ Paulie wanted to do the extra two years. He planned to go to the University College of Roma in Basutoland and study economics.

  Alex thought his brother was mad. In the first place, Francistown did not offer the final two years of schooling, not having enough students interested in places. Paulie would have to move to Gaberones to finish his education. Then, with no university in Bechuanaland, and because of South Africa’s race classification rules which made Paulie ineligible to attend university in that country, he would have to get his degree in the British Territory of Basutoland, a tiny mountainous region over a thousand miles east of Shakawe.

  In that Basutoland was surrounded by South Africa, Paulie would have to travel to and from Bechuanaland on overloaded public transport specifically provided by South Africa’s white regime for use by the black population. Whilst travelling through South Africa, Paulie would be treated as a second-class citizen.

  ‘Are you still determined to become an economist?’ Economists were an emerging breed. Paulie had learned about them six months ago. Always interested in mathematics, he had not wavered in his intention to become one since then.

  ‘Economists will rule the world one day.’

  Alex laughed at him. But a part of him thought his brother was lucky. At least Mum did not put pressure on him to come home.

  ‘Give Mum and Pa my love.’ His heart did a little leap. He knew his parents would be surprised and he wondered if he was doing the right thing.

  ‘Mum will be spitting chips.’

  ‘Yeah. Tell her I’m sorry.’

  ‘Alex?’

  Paulie looked serious and Alex gave him his full attention.

  ‘Do you think you could start calling me Paul? Paulie sounds so . . . damned young.’

  Alex raised one eyebrow. ‘Sure.’

  ‘I’m going to ask Pa and Mum to do the same.’

  ‘Pa will. Mum still calls me Ali.’ He grinned, ‘Unless she’s mad at me.’

  Paulie laughed. ‘I guess she’ll be referring to you as Alexander for a while then ’cos she’s going to be good and mad when I get home and you’re not with me.’

  SIX

  Paulie nearly fell out of the window when he left next day with Aunty Dorie who was taking him to the airport, he was leaning out so far to wave goodbye. Alex watched him go, a lump of fear in his stomach. Paulie was the last link with his family. From now on he was on his own. The future loomed ahead, unknown and strange. Until Paulie left it had looked exciting. Now he wasn’t too sure. Still, it was too late to change his mind.

  Jeff Carter told him to be at the airfield at six the next morning. Aunty Dorie drove him there. He carried with him all his worldly possessions: a small suitcase containing his clothes. ‘That the lot?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Drop the sir, kid. Name’s Jeff.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Bung the case up here.’

  Alex looked. The back of the aeroplane was haphazardly loaded with boxes of supplies.

  ‘Yeah, that’s right. Stick it on top.’

  His stomach was doing backflips and handstands; he had never flown in such a small plane. Saying goodbye to Aunty Dorie he wished he had gone home with Paulie. In his heart he knew the light aircraft would crash and his remains would be strewn over the hot desert to be picked clean by the jackals and the ants. Jeff Carter, who had seemed like a nice man two days ago, became someone hell-bent on suicide. And even if they did make it to Ghanzi, he would be worked so hard he could well die of exhaustion. This was a mistake. His first independent decision and he’d blown it.

  The little aircraft shook so hard while Jeff went through his tests that Alex was convinced it would fall apart. Then they were taxiing to the end of the strip. Aunty Dorie seemed so far away. He craned his neck to watch her. Jeff lined up on the strip. ‘Here we go.’

  Too late. It was too late to do anything about it. He desperately needed the toilet. The aircraft lunged forward. Faster and faster, they sped down the grassy strip, past Aunty Dorie, past the huts on the side of the strip.

  ‘C’mon, you bitch, get your nose up.’ Jeff’s face was set and anxious. The end of the strip was rapidly approaching.

  This is it. We’re going to crash into the fence. This is the end.

  The aircraft gave a little shudder and hopped into the air. ‘C’mon, c’mon!’ Jeff pulled the stick back. Labouring under the weight of supplies, the plane dipped, then righted itself. Then, roaring with exertion, it shuddered and vibrated slowly higher, skimming the fence at the end of the strip by the merest whisker. Trembling and groaning, the little plane rose by degrees. Trees flashed underneath. Rooftops were close enough to touch. There was Aunty Dorie’s house, so close he could see the dog in the garden. Over the town
, away to the west, still climbing, the engine screaming, Jeff’s hands holding the controls tightly as they fought him in their effort to return the aircraft to earth.

  ‘Jesus!’ Jeff had perspiration running down his face. ‘That was a close one. Guess I’ve got too much weight.’

  Alex shifted his attention from his desperate attempt not to shit himself. ‘Are you going back?’

  ‘Back? No way, kid. We’re winning.’

  They were still climbing. The engine had lost its strained noise and settled into a steady roar. The ground beneath them was flattening out.

  ‘Which way did we head out of town?’

  Christ! He doesn’t know where we are. ‘West.’

  ‘You sure? I don’t recognise this.’ He was peering sideways, out his window.

  ‘We flew back over the field.’

  ‘Huh!’ Jeff sounded amused. ‘Must be better at this than I thought.’ He banked the plane slightly to the south. ‘I might be a whisker too far north, though. Let’s have a look around.’

  ‘What are we looking for?’

  ‘The road to Orapa will do nicely.’

  They found the road a few minutes later. ‘We’ll just follow this. They’re looking for diamonds in the Orapa area. De Beers grade the road every now and then. It’s easy to see from up here.’

  The roar settled into a nice healthy drone. The little plane had done it. After half an hour they had reached an altitude of 6,000 feet. Now all they had to do was find Ghanzi and land safely. Alex relaxed somewhat. Ahead he could see the southeastern extremity of the Makgadikgadi Pans, stretching away into the distance, monstrous, swirling sheets of salty sand, glittering under the desert sky. Further north and west the Pans were covered with golden grasses lined and crisscrossed with thousands of game trails. But down here the endless white flatlands which, from the air, looked like ice, patterned in places by gigantic swirls from evaporated shallow lakes, looked hostile and empty.

  Fifteen minutes later they saw signs of mining excavations and then, when the road turned north, they flew on towards the immense emptiness of the Central Kalahari. ‘What do you follow now?’

  ‘With a bit of luck we’ll find Deception Valley. From up here it looks like a saucer. If I keep to the northern side, we’ll get to Ghanzi.’ Jeff grinned. ‘If we get to the Tsau Hills we hang a left.’

  ‘Don’t you have a compass?’

  ‘Sure.’ He banged his hand against it. ‘Rather do it by sight though, I’m not sure how to read the bloody thing.’

  Alex changed the subject. He didn’t want to know about Jeff’s lack of flying experience. ‘How far out of Ghanzi is your farm?’

  ‘Not far. Half an hour by road.’

  ‘What’s Ghanzi like?’

  ‘Pub, hospital, police station and general store. Not much else. You’ll get to see it Saturday. All the men go in on Saturday night.’

  Men! He was a man. The thought made him smile.

  ‘Like a drink do you?’

  ‘Beer. Not spirits.’

  Jeff laughed. ‘You’d know would you?’

  ‘I tried gin the night of the dance. It made my eyes water.’

  Jeff laughed again. ‘What did you put with it?’

  ‘Nothing. Just drank it straight from the bottle.’

  ‘Jesus! You kids.’ He was silent. Then, ‘Did Annie have any?’

  ‘Annie? No. She wasn’t with us.’

  ‘Poor little bitch.’ He looked at Alex. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, kid, I tell all my men the same thing. I have a daughter too. Same age as Annie. She’ll be home for the holidays. You keep your hands off her, you hear.’

  Where did that come from? ‘Where does she go to school?’

  ‘England.’

  England! To Alex that was as good as another planet.

  ‘Maddie’s younger than Annie, know what I mean?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Annie was . . . well, she’d been around hadn’t she?’ He saw Alex’s face and added, ‘She was a good kid but she knew more about life than Maddie.’

  ‘Maddie?’ It sounded like an odd kind of name.

  ‘Madison. We call her Maddie. Well, the family does. No-one else.’ Jeff frowned. ‘She’s a bit funny about it. You’ll have to call her Madison.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘And keep your distance. I know what you young fellas are like. Your brains are in your cocks. Maddie’s not like that, understand?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Jeff.’

  ‘Okay, Jeff.’

  Abruptly, he changed the subject. ‘Done any branding, kid?’

  ‘Sure. Lots.’

  ‘Good. You’ll be busy with that for a few weeks.’

  ‘When do we drive the cattle?’

  ‘When the rains start. Makes it easier.’

  That could be weeks or it could be months. Alex had no idea when the rains came to this part of the country, if they ever did. It was December now and the rains would already have started at home. But looking at the flat brown country beneath them he could see they’d had no rain recently. Jeff read his thoughts. ‘I’ve seen this country covered in wildflowers. It’s a beautiful sight. The Pans fill up. The wonder bush comes out. It’s incredible.’

  ‘Wonder bush?’

  ‘Yeah. You’ll see lots at home. Dead shrubs. They can stay like that for years. But give them a bit of rain and next day they’re covered with leaves. Try it for yourself. Break off a branch and stick it in a jar of water. The next day I guarantee it’ll be green all over.’

  On and on they flew. He didn’t know what to make of Jeff. He seemed friendly enough but, once or twice, had shown a harder side. Like when he warned him about Maddie. And that stuff he’d said about Annie. Alex hadn’t liked it. Sure, Annie had been around but that didn’t give the guy the right to put her down. Even if he was her uncle. Especially since he was her uncle. Alex would have expected more loyalty.

  ‘There’s Ghanzi.’

  He looked. A couple of sandy streets. A scatter of tin roofs. A dirt road ran from the southwest, through the town and away to the northeast. Another headed south, presumably the one they would follow with the cattle. He hadn’t known what to expect but he had expected more than this. Ghanzi had a reputation as the cattle baron capital of Bechuanaland. From the air it looked more like one of the small villages he passed through on the road to Shakawe. They flew over the town and continued westward.

  ‘Aren’t you going to land there?’

  ‘They won’t let me. I put her down there six weeks ago and bloody nearly knocked over the general store. Besides, I’ve just built my own strip. It’s rustic but it works.’

  He needed the toilet again.

  Jeff adjusted a lever between the seats. ‘Flaps,’ he explained. ‘They slow us down.’ He pulled the handle further and the aircraft seemed to hiccough in mid-air. ‘Oops, too much.’ He pushed the lever back again. The plane settled down. ‘There’s the house.’

  Alex could see a patch of brilliant green in the otherwise barren landscape. He wondered how the trees could possibly survive. From the centre of the green canopy he caught a glimpse of a red roof as they flashed over it.

  Jeff banked around, standing the aeroplane on one wing. Dead ahead was a cleared strip of sand, marked on both sides with the occasional white painted rock.

  Shit! He’s going to land on that? The strip was no wider than a road and didn’t look much longer than a rugby field.

  Jeff adjusted the flaps lever again and the plane hiccoughed once more causing Alex’s stomach to heave. Closer and closer to the ground, they were travelling impossibly fast. Jeff pulled back on the stick. The aeroplane floated down, landed on one wheel, floated up, floated down, landed on two wheels. Jeff pushed the stick forward and the nose went down. They were doing all right until he got busy with some pedals at his feet. The plane slewed left, slewed right, left then right again and shuddered and skidded, taking an agonising amount of time to stop, some te
n yards from an anthill and very definitely off the left of the runway and into the veld.

  ‘Here we are.’ He saw Alex’s white face. ‘That was my best landing yet.’

  All Alex could do was let his breath out noisily.

  Jeff taxied back the way they had come and parked the plane next to an old petrol pump. ‘Give us a hand, kid. The others will be a while.’

  They had the aircraft offloaded and tied down before two Land Rovers roared up. ‘Hey, boss, howzit?’ Alex looked at the driver of the first as he jumped out. He was possibly the ugliest man he had ever seen.

  ‘Howzit, Artie?’ Jeff strode over and shook the man’s hand.

  Artie grinned at Alex. ‘Who’s this?’

  ‘Alex Theron. He’s just left school. Parents have a place up at Shakawe. He’s going to help with the drive.’

  Artie walked over and looked Alex up and down. ‘Done much riding, fella?’

  ‘Some.’

  ‘Done any driving?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Artie clapped his shoulder. ‘That’s good enough for me. Name’s Artie Black. You’ll be working for me.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you, sir.’

  Artie laughed, delighted. ‘There are no sirs around here, young fella. You left them behind at school. Call me Artie.’

  Alex liked him instinctively. He was extremely short, coming just to his chest. He had an open, creased face and the largest grin he had ever seen. When he smiled his mouth split his face in two. His nose had been broken at least once, it was flat in the middle and bent to one side. Greying brows hovered just over his eyes. His thinning grey hair was cut short all over and stood straight up from his head like a brush. He had a massive chest, large shoulders, and muscles on his arms and hands Alex never knew existed. He was narrow at the waist with legs which bowed outwards before returning his feet to where they should be. One eye looked crazily sideways. A scar pulled one side of his lip up. But when he smiled, showing big yellowish teeth, his whole face lit up.

  ‘Come on, young fella. You can ride with me.’

  Alex slung his suitcase into the back of the Land Rover. Then he saw the girl beside the other vehicle. She was watching Jeff, smiling. Alex had never seen anyone so beautiful. She was about his age. Her dark hair fell like a curtain around a perfectly oval face. Skin the colour of milk, dark winged brows, clear untroubled eyes, straight nose, lovely smile, a long white neck, breasts . . . oh God, he’d never seen such perfect breasts.