Catching Kate (Scenic Route to Paradise)

by Andrea Aarons

  The preacher quoted Jesus’ own words, “No one is good but God.” He described these good people as “Almost Christians.” These people pursued morality to a certain extent because they knew it to be right but they had no relationship with God via the rebirth experience by faith in Jesus - God’s Son.

  Who is Lord of my life? Kate had wondered about her relationship with the Creator since before she began this trip. She had hoped to find the answer in her return to her childhood haunts where as a child and teen, Kate had felt God and when she was secure in His protection and provision. Recent circumstance interrupted her plans, she assumed.

  Watching for some sign of life or lights below, Kate turned her thoughts and face from the plane portal. Stacy was picking her up at the airport. She opened her diary.

  August 6th

  Stacy Botha! I was madly in love with him! Even now, my heart flutters at seeing him again. This is so wrong! It’s been 10 years & lots of change for both of us.

  As a teen, Kate had been deeply infatuated with Stacy. He had liked her too. They spent a lot of time together at school and afterward. Her brother, Dale had left for the States already but her parents and young Merry grew very fond of Stacy. There was an entire group from the small private school Kate attended that hung around together making harmless mischief for the most part; surfing, playing billiards and occasionally cascading toilet paper across the foliage in the headmaster’s yard.

  Stacy graduated a year ahead of Kate and began his business studies at Cape Town University. At that time he began to pressure Kate to go the next step in their relationship. He wanted more but not marriage; South Africans didn’t marry that young... not typically.

  Stacy’s family had money. Lots of it. They had church... every Sunday morning when they weren’t preoccupied with holiday or seasonal business. Kate knew from the beginning that Stacy’s god and her God were not one and the same. Stacy was an “Almost Christian.”

  When Stacy turned on the pressure, she dropped him like a hotcake. Kate cried for weeks but then school was over and she was traveling back to the states - permanently.

  It was a few years later, after he graduated from university that she received a wedding invitation from his fiancée, Tamara Swartboii! Kate had been thrilled and although she didn’t attend the ceremony she had kept in touch with them; mostly with Tamara online.

  Now Stacy was divorced. He would be picking her up in less than an hour.

  Stacy dropped her carry-on into his trunk. His yellow sports car didn’t have a backseat but there was room for Kate’s small backpack which acted as her purse when she traveled.

  Kate was frowning as she shoved the pack into place. She hadn’t expected Stacy to bear-hug her and kiss her on the lips like he had when he recognized her coming toward him. In normal circumstances, she would have been prepared and would have stiff-armed him but in normal circumstances, Kate wouldn’t have called him to catch a ride. She pulled down the visor mirror to see if his rough kiss had smeared her make-up. Yes, her lip gloss was halfway to her left ear.

  Stacy hopped in next to her as she dropped the visor. “Katee, Katee! You look great. Those online shots don’t do you justice. How about a late snack? I know just the place. The Durban - Cape Town flight never feeds you unless you’re in business class... I don’t suspect you were,” Stacy said and then took a breath.

  Kate was hungry but she felt an urgency to get to the docks. “Head for the Harbour Mall and I’ll catch you up on what is happening,” she told him.

  “The Harbour Mall? It’ll be closed but a few restaurants might be opened yet,” he responded. As they pulled onto the highway the blackness prevailed. During the day, Kate knew the sight on either side of the road just outside of the airport were neighborhoods of dilapidated shacks for miles. The South African informal settlements were unique in that their homes were made up of various metal scraps, plywood and warehouse platform crates. None looked the same but all looked the same and not a ninety degree angle to be found among them. During daylight flying into Cape Town airport, the shacks from the air were seen to have tires, storage goods and chicken coops on their roofs. The rooftop was safer from thieves than anywhere else in Langa or in any other informal settlement. The bonus to storing extra stuff on the roof was that during high winds, the roof was less apt to blow away although the goods many times ended up somewhere else.

  Kate sighed. She had seen plenty of poverty in Durban so that she didn’t have to actually see the need here as they scurried past in the dark going 150 kilometers an hour, to know the need.

  Kate explained to Stacy all that had happened since March. They had rounded the hill overlooking the picturesque Cape Town Harbour, lit like a jewel on the neck of the night when she had finished.

  In spite of the crime, corruption and poverty, Cape Town was a lovely city. At night with the dark pressing at every side, the lights and water, the buildings and the boats made a pleasing picture.

  “Amazing story! If they are here they are probably moored with the boats and yachts. My parents’ boat is tied up there. We’ll go have a look,” Stacy said.

  The whole mall area was lit up like a carnival. The wet shiny pavement from the earlier misting rain reflected the myriads of shop lights. The mall doors were locked but there were several restaurants open for business along the outside promenade. Security guards were everywhere as Cape Town’s reputation preceded any tourists, especially the wealthier tourists. Businesses wanted people, especially the big spenders to feel safe.

  Stacy parked in the covered garage as it was much harder to get away with car theft inside the garage, although it had been done. The South African car thieves are infamously genius. Kate gave a large coin to the teenage girl huddled out of the wind between the concrete wall and the coin machine inside the garage, making a mental note to give the child her hoody jacket when they returned to the car later… if they returned.

  Stacy took Kate’s hand as they crossed the street toward the mall complex. In pretext of shifting her pack about she withdrew her hand once they were across. Stacy linked her arm in his and guided her along the closed storefronts toward the water.

  A whiff of a delectable dish caught the wind and tempted Kate to stop for something to eat.

  “Stacy, did you smell that?’ she asked as they hurried along.

  “Yes, that’ the fish place over there... You are hungry! Let’s stop a moment and get some fish and chips. What do you say?” He was hungry too.

  Instead of going right and heading down to the pier, they went to the left and a moment later they were standing inside the Captain’s Sea Shack. It was almost 11pm and the place was closing. Outside, picnic tables were stacked as the workers prepared to finish cleaning and close-up.

  “We won’t sit,” said Kate. “Let’s get it to go and we can eat as we walk.” There really wasn’t much choice unless they went elsewhere so Stacy agreed. They ordered and after a good long wait, the food was handed over. Kate let Stacy pay. Her South African funds were diminished to a few Rand and she didn’t want to pull out the little bit of Euros and other travel change she had exchanged months before for her original trip.

  Kate delved out the food but left the drinks in the bag for later. The Cape Town ketchup was awful just like she remembered but the fries and fish were delicious.

  Down at the pier, Stacy directed her to the gates where the private docks were located. He had a key and he used it. There had been a dozen or more people meandering about the mall exterior but here several blocks from the mall there was nobody. Stacy told her that guards were about but they didn’t see anyone. There were lights but not the artificial brightness around the mall. Here along the quay, the night lamps were separated and ineffective unless one was standing directly within their glow. Many of the private moorings were lit up but the majority was not.

  They walked to his parents’ boat. It wasn’t the same one the Botha’s had owned when Kate knew them as a teen. This boat was bigger, much bigger. S
tacy offered to give her a tour but she declined.

  “I would really like to find out if my sister is docked in here somewhere. They left Durban over a week ago. They sailed as I said, so with no engine they should be here by now. Wouldn’t you agree?” she asked hopefully.

  Stacy reluctantly moved away from his parent’s yacht. “Well, I would hope so but I don’t know. In the morning we can ask the harbor officials but let’s find a guard and see what he might know.”

  A tall Congolese guard was found further down the docks. Stacy saw him as he hovered about the gloom between two harbor lamps. Before they could speak, he said to Kate in a low deep voice, “So where is your dog? You didn’t lose the little fellow already did you?”

  Stacy replied, “Oh, hello. A dog? You must have me mixed up with someone else. You know we’re looking for a boat with some Americans that came in from Durban.”

  The guard stepped forward and now the three of them were better lit. He was tall and slim and very dark. His smile was friendly as he nodded toward Kate. “You didn’t have the big baby dog walking along with the other guys? No?”

  Kate shook her head. “No, I just flew in.”

  “Well... Now what is it about the Americans, you ask?” asked the guard looking to Stacy.

  Stacy told him all that they knew.

  “Yes, they are moored in here. The young woman, she is the one with the dog... Then, you must be sisters... Twins! Yes?” He said with a big clean smile.

  “Yes! I mean, no we’re not twins but they’re here!” exclaimed Kate and then to the amazement of the men, she did her victory prance. Stacy had forgotten about Kate’s ‘happy dance’ as he had called it when they were children until now.

  Stacy and Kate followed the guard almost to the end of the main dock and then to the left down one of the floating dock extensions. There were no lights on any of the private docks and the sky was black with a few veiled speckled stars above. A chilly breeze continued and the water lapped loudly below their feet.

  As they neared the end of the dock the guard let out a noisy sigh, “Look,” he said pointing to the final 100 feet of dock and so they did. He said, “They were here an hour ago... may be a little bit more but now... They have sailed away.” They had actually motored away but the guard was not sea suave.

  Kate kept walking forward as if she hadn’t heard.

  “Katee, there is nothing there - they’re gone!” called Stacy after her.

  Kate walked to the end and looked out into the night. The water and sky were seamless. There were some lights just north but it looked to be a big ship not a little boat with a few people on it.

  “They’re gone. That is Mandela’s Island,” he said lifting his arm and pointing toward the lights of Robben Island where the former South African president had been imprisoned. “They’re gone. I’m sorry.”

  Behind them the Congolese said, “You know they came to Cape Town to get engine parts. They had some trouble but the little man told me that they went to Paarden Island to buy what they needed.”

  Kate’s tears burned against her cool cheeks. Stacy said quietly, “Yes, that would be the place to go.”

  “I’m thinking you might talk to someone in the shop and find where they go. That little guy, he told me they are stopping again but he didn’t say where,” said the guard. Stacy took Kate’s arm turning her around and they began to walk back up the dock with the guard following.

  “Kate, I’ll take you down to Paarden Island in the morning. I know all the marina shops. We’ll find out what they know and see what we can do...” he said but there wasn’t much conviction in his voice.

  Kate was tired. Her emotional high had kept her all day. She had missed Merry maybe by minutes! Hopelessness swept over her...

  Where was Merry?

  Where was God?

  Where should I go?

  What should I do?

  Chapter 6 Scenic Route

  There was a dull thump-thumping on the other side of Kate’s eye lids. It wasn’t like a migraine. It reminded her more of someone tapping out Morse code in the dark of night. She opened her eyes and the last 24 hours came rushing back filling her thoughts and pushing out the indifference sleep had allowed. Ignorance had been bliss. The thump-thumping was the mild swell lapping against the yacht.

  Stacy left her ensconced in his parent’s boat. She had broken down crying uncontrollably after hearing the news that they had missed Merry not by days but by hours, if not minutes. Stacy never knew what to do with a crying female and if the airport had been opened, he would have gladly bought her a ticket to Budapest or Tokyo or anywhere, only to get her to quit crying. But Kate didn’t know that and besides, the airport had been closed for the night. He suggested the guest berth in the yacht.

  The Bothas’ boat had been recently readied for an extended trip his parents were taking with some close friends during the upcoming South African holiday.

  “We winterized it back in April, but the water tanks have been refilled and just help yourself to anything,” he told her before leaving her around midnight. Kate had started a fresh bout of tears and Stacy wanted no part.

  Her little cabin was warm in the morning but as soon as Kate opened the door, a cool damp air filled the room. Wrapping herself in a blanket she went up the companionway. The morning was clear. There was a wispy mist over the harbor. The sun had not come up yet but still, seabirds were careening above the water and moored boats. On the wooden docks below Kate saw that the Congolese guard had stretched out and sleeping on a bench not far from the yacht. She hadn’t remembered him following them but he must have.

  Going below, Kate showered and then spent some time in prayer. She had left her Bible back home in Flagstaff. Her personal bookshelf with maybe a dozen books and a few more came before her mental screen. She repented to God for not even missing it, realizing she had left God on the shelf and yet, He had her in the palm of His hands. Kate’s hope in His plan - whatever that was, seemed to be reigniting inside of her. An ember not quite snuffed was readying to be lit again, she sensed.

  God was doing something. He was moving worldwide tying up loose ends, Kate suspected. Personally, He was moving her along to the place she needed to be in Him and geographically, with Him. Somehow, chasing Merry around South Africa was part of His plan for her. Poking about her memory, Kate tried to dredge up suitable scriptures that might fit the occasion but only the 23rd Psalm came to mind. It was like a kindergarten verse to her but Kate recited the Shepherd’s Psalm and felt better for it.

  Stacy called. He was bringing breakfast.

  Kate went above decks. The guard was gone. His shift was over, she guessed.

  Stacy came jauntily up the dock, his black hair blowing. His pale face pink from the walk and his blue eyes shining as he spotted Kate on deck. He pulled the line to and handed her the bags of fast food before climbing aboard. He was a handsome guy but in the daylight Kate noticed that his playboy lifestyle had dulled a bit of the gloss. They went below to the galley and although it had warmed considerably since sunrise, it was cool and Stacy closed the galley door to shut out the breeze.

  Kate asked about his family and he asked about hers. His was saddened to hear about her father’s death although she was sure she had sent him and his wife a note. Stacy and her father, Vance Merriweather had gotten along very well. Both loved the out of doors and Vance was an excellent surfer, Stacy remembered - even for an old guy. When Stacy was 17, anybody over thirty was considered ancient. Now as he neared 30, he moved his mental marker to “everyone over fifty” as being elderly.

  Kate’s dad had been dead almost 3 years and her mother, Toni was remarrying.

  “I was on my way to D’Almata... that is in the Adriatic Sea by way of South Africa,” Kate told him as they began to clean up and stow the kitchenware.

  “That’s a bit of a scenic route. Isn’t it Katee?” he suggested with a chuckle. “You were always one for a bit of adventure. I admire that in you,” he told her with a
look that said a more than words. She remembered the kiss and hug from the night before and her face began to go pink.

  The galley was tiny and there was no where to go. She said quickly, “Hey, what were you saying about the Paarden Island marinas last night? I thought that was genius.”

  Stacy frowned but then said, “Yes. It might just work. I was thinking we would go over there and see if we can’t drum up some information about where you sister is headed. If they have a boat this size they are going to need to make a few stops for fuel on their way north. Even if they sail most of the way, I would think before Cape Verde or somewhere they will have to put into port for fuel, supplies and water.”

  “The Verde Islands!” That was too far. Kate didn’t want to hear that. She guessed the island nation of Cape Verde was a thousand miles north by water and at least a thousand dollars by air. Both figures, whether miles or money was too much.

  Stacy thought she might start crying again.

  “Whoa now girl... Let’s not jump to any conclusions. Come, grab your things and we’ll go find out what we can,” he said as he turned heading up the companionway with a bag of trash.

  It wasn’t quite noon when a sleek yellow sports car was headed north with surfboards on the roof-rack. Stacy and Kate were going to Eland’s Bay.

  Chapter 7 Coco

  When Zeff came aboard and stayed, Tino moved into the double bunk cabin with his cousin, Junior Tapia. Zeff’s cabin with one bed was larger than the double bunk room and was located at the very front of the boat. It was actually wedge shaped as it fit into the bow. After putting a thick beach towel on his spread, the fawn colored puppy curled up and fell asleep.