Nganakati

Richard chuckled. "Taking over my job Mnumzaan?"

I had to laugh. "Sorry Richard. Old habits die hard. Something you want to change?"

"Absolutely not."

Cathy joined us a few minutes later and for a while we sat there exchanging stories. She was peppered with questions and Richard almost fell off his chair when she told them of how we had met. It was slightly over dramatised and spiked with some near-truths but it was fun to listen to. She also retold the story of her mom's visit. We laughed so much that a large part of our workforce came closer to hear what was going on. She had to re-tell it and did it in fluent Swazi interspersed with some choice Tsonga phrases. It made the stories just that much funnier. This woman was amazing! Silently I wondered how many languages she could speak.

For days afterward some of the more picturesque sequences of her stories were repeated and even acted out when men grew tired and it never failed to lead to renewed energy after bouts of raucous laughter.

Kissing her goodnight in full view of a very appreciative audience was debilitating but we all needed to go to sleep. Tonight would be the last time in quite some time when we would be so relaxed and spirited. The crews had done this before and knew what was waiting. A month from now we would be dragging our feet and I had good reason to try and work in a day of complete rest.

I was up early and had coffee ready when she came from the ablution, dressed for a day in the veld. A quick kiss and she gulped it down, grabbed her basket of provisions for the day and I listened to her Land Rover leaving camp as more and more of our group came to the kitchen for something hot.

An hour later most of us were already working and those who did not were estimating best ways of doing what had to be done. André had a crew for the kitchen and at around ten we were called in for brunch. The rate at which these guys were eating made me wonder if I had budgeted enough....

Sunset made us stop working and we dragged tired bodies into camp to wash and relax. My ears strained into the night for the sound of Cathy's Landy but by the time dinner was served she had not arrived yet. Richard was there again and had dragged Ol' Jacob along. Conversations were lively and I heard Steven questioning Jacob about the Lodge and the condition it was in. I only heard half of it. My gut was in a ball of worry about Cathy and I swore at myself for never taking her telephone number. Knowing the spotty cell phone reception in these areas I knew it may have meant very little but still....

The camp was quiet with snores floating up to a slanting moon when I eventually crawled into bed, mad with worry. What had happened to her? Where was she? Should we go look for her? Where?

At some stage I fell asleep and woke with a start, lying in the tent listening into the night. Nothing.

Pots banging at the kitchen had me outside, thankful that my lonely vigil was over. I still looked over the entire area visible from our camp but the Landy was nowhere in sight. Steven was at the fire first and gave me a questioning look and I shook my head. He turned to look towards the east and shook his head.

"Perplexing thing Kevin," he mumbled. "What to do?"

I took a long and very deep breath. "She told me that she sometimes slept over at neighbouring Lodges if needed or even in the Landy if something happened to make her late to return to camp but damn it man! Anything could have happened!"

Steven grinned at me. "That snake bite had you rattled bud."

I shuddered. "Don't mention it. You don't want to know what went through this small mind of mine during the night."

"I can imagine. Coffee?"

I stood there, mechanically drinking my coffee while staring into the distance. If Cathy was to....

My thoughts turned inward. If she was to what? Leave? Get hurt? Die? Maureen's death had me teetering on the edge. For months after her death there were days that went by without me having the faintest clue of what had happened for most of the day. It was as if I slipped into a ball of nothing sometimes. I learnt what it felt like to fall asleep with tears wetting the pillow or to wake up at night after dreaming she was still with me. Groping around in the bed and finding nothing had me sobbing more times than I ever want to remember.

"You okay bud?" Steven asked and I pulled myself from the dark memories.

"Just thinking."

"You like this girl a lot."

"I was thinking of Maureen but yes, Cathy is a little special."

"Relax Kevin. I am sure she is fine. Remember. You guys met three days ago but the sparks between the two of you must be visible from the moon. She has been traipsing around the country for years now, never having to tell anybody where she is or where she may go. For all we know she parked out somewhere last night and never thought of letting you know she won't be back in camp until maybe quite late."

I nodded and sighed. "I thought of that. It makes sense."

It made sense but it didn't help me. None at all. I worked like a slave all day to get my mind off my worry. That night I went to bed with my nerves in a frazzle. My only consolation came from Mike who sidled up to me and put his giant hand on my shoulder just after dinner.

"Nganakati is well Nkulumba. She is far away and she is concerned."

"How do you know?"

"I am versed in the ways of those who came before us Nkulumba. Do not worry about our princess."

It still took me forever to fall asleep but I did and only woke the next morning after a night with no memory of any dreams. Once again I worked my body and my men to a standstill.

It was quite late when a small car came bouncing into camp. I idly watched it stop and then the driver walked over to us.

"I am looking for Mr Faull?"

I came upright and grunted as my overworked spine clicked. "You found me," I called and held my hand up. "What can I do for you?"

"I came to tell you about Miss MacDonald," he began as I felt a black hood drop over me.

"What about her?" I asked and felt my hand shaking as I wiped over my forehead.

"Her mother had a heart attack and Miss MacDonald flew home on the first available aircraft. She phoned us and asked us to tell you but I could only come around now. I do apologise if it caused any concern."

I laughed with relief and watched him drive away after declining to have dinner with us. Long after he had left I wondered if he had any way of contacting her but he was gone. No matter. Cathy was safe.

Day after day we toiled in the heat and dust. At night we had dinner and went to bed. The routine was kept from being boring by the fact that we changed sites almost daily. Every day was spent listening to machines whining and rattling to the accompaniment of men calling and sometimes even singing or swearing. There were the odd glitches but most were solved with the minimum of time wasted. Even Sboro did their bit. I cringed at some of the workmanship but by and large it was good enough.

There came the day two of our teams packed up and left. Their job was done. Four days later more teams left and I was left with Mike and a few of his men, watching the chalets and rooms being fitted with new creature comforts. By the looks of it, Wasubi Lodge was destined to become quite the diamond in the crown of luxury lodges. Richard took Mike and me on a final inspection of everything we had done and he was meticulous in the exacting science of ticking every box. To my relief nothing was found to be even almost not according to spec and we went to his office to sign off the contract.

"Three days ahead of schedule Mnumzaan," Richard beamed as we sat down to start the tedious job of checking and signing off every aspect of the contract. He chuckled. "No bonus but some very mentionable achievements."

Mike sat there shaking his head. "I need a holiday. This was murder."

"At least you didn't fall into a septic tank mister!" I laughed and for a while our tired bodies were forgotten as funny anecdotes of the project were shared once again. Top of the tops stayed with Joseph Dlamini who had missed his footing and fell into a giant septic tank. We were pumping it out into tankers for transport to a sewerage facility so that we could clean the tank of unwanted matter before re-commissioning but still... Lodges ask, plead and even make threats but people chuck anything down a toilet. The wriggling masses of condoms makes you wonder what people do at Lodges....

That night our small group made do with a rather Spartan braai but after the huge dinners cooked up by André the past two months it almost felt good to eat a little less. Richard's presence at our meals had become standard and twice he even stepped in to the kitchen to prepare some of his traditional fare. I was in a celebratory mood and after an ice cold beer to wash away the dust from my throat, I had another one. Richard laughed and held up a bottle of an exceptional red.

"Tonight we party!" he exclaimed as he poured us a glass each and we laughingly clinked them with enough force to spill. I found it strange that Richard drank any alcohol but that was his baby.

We ate well and drank just that tad too much. We were noisy, hilariously funny and smart enough to solve every known problem on earth. Just for fun we thought up a few more problems that needed solving for no good reason whatsoever and it was rather late when I stumbled to my tent. I sat inside and stared out through the open flaps at Cathy's tent, now standing lonely and almost forlorn, all by itself in the dark. Those who had lived around her little house had gone home. Some had scribbled massages on pieces of paper. Some had packed a circle of rocks around her tent and had swept the area clean. It looked great but it was empty.

With nothing left to do at the Lodge we would be out and on the way home by early tomorrow. The bush telegraph had hinted that Cathy was back from Scotland. Nobody knew when she returned, if at all or where she was. We had cleaned her little tent, washed the bedding and made the bed. Her clothes were still there and it felt eerie when I put her suitcase to one side. The memory of Maureen made that simple task seem like a monumental obstacle and I felt terrible by the time I zipped up the little tent. I zipped it down again to make sure the envelope with all the letters and pictures from our guys, including my business card was still very visible and then closed it properly.

The business card was a compromise. I had written numerous notes, letters and the odd report of a day that had gone great or bad while she was away but I destroyed them when time for us ran out. If she wanted to see me again, the business card had all the info she needed. The letters and such may have been just.... what?

It may have been just a flash in the pan holiday romance of spectacularly short duration. It may even have developed into something. Maureen still haunted me daily but for the short times when Cathy was near me, those memories lost their painful edge. The sweetness of her made me smile and I softly hummed to a tune from somewhere while driving home. I had reason to be happy. Within days our bank account will bulge quite beautifully and our crews will be dancing with joy when they find large bonuses paid into their accounts. It had been good....

Two weeks later I sat in my office after a hot day in the sun installing solar geysers at a nearby Lodge. The African sun is not your friend and standing on a shiny corrugated iron roof turns it into a death ray. I chuckled as I remembered something I had read years ago. Livingston wrote to the Queen while traipsing around a little north from where I found myself and I quote; "The sun in Africa is not a source of life giving warmth. It is an entity to be terrified of." Coming from northern Scotland he must have felt like Hell had descended on him. High altitudes, high humidity and a sun that seemed to take a mere two hours to move from the horizon to its zenith and remain there forever until it sank behind the horizon once again. The sunsets made it all worthwhile...

Thinking of Scotland brought a sad smile to my lips and I sat there remembering a girl with astonishing eyes I had known briefly. Too briefly.

From the workshops a yell sounded and then a raucous commotion ensued. It had no alarm sound to it and I shrugged as I reflected on the fact that it was possible to hear emotion. I wondered how it was possible to hear happiness, sadness, tiredness, surprise and all the other emotions we deal with daily when the commotion quieted down a smite. With a sigh I got up and turned to a cupboard behind me to pull out a file. It had been one of those jobs. I call it the SADIM effect as opposed to the MIDAS touch. Instead of gold, everything you touch turns to shit. This had been a simple job at an average Guesthouse. To start off we under quoted. The job took longer than it should have. It was fraught with unknowns that nearly killed one of my men when a roof collapsed. We had to pay for it of course even though I proved that the wooden beams were badly rotten. The owner was a perfect asshole who went out of his way to discredit us publicly. Months later he still refused to pay us, citing all kinds of problems that had nothing to do with us but seemingly it did, according to him. The latest was a swarm of bees that took up residence in his roof because there was an opening somewhere and because we had damaged the roof....

I was wondering if it was possible to entice a swarm of bees to move into his pants when I nearly jumped over the filing cabinet.

"Hello the fire?"

I swung around so fast that the file flipped open and a million plus one pages flew in an arc around the office. Those beautiful eyes were hidden behind modest sunglasses but the smile.... I was too stunned to smile and with my brain on AWOL I stuttered; "your.... mom okay?"

From the corridor behind her I heard Steven and André collapse with laughter and even Jenny, our girl-Friday, found reason enough to break down giggling while I stood there staring. My day suddenly had the smell of roses.

My voice and brain returned from their sudden walk and I chuckled while walking towards her. "I never had a chance to say goodbye."

She nodded and lifted the sunglasses. Those eyes....

"Surprised to see me?"

I stood there looking at her. It felt better than I remembered and found enough air to breathe "yes" to the raucous laughter of my staff.

"Free this evening?" she asked as casually as you please and André yelled; "How about all night?"

She turned and gave him a bored look. "André, please go and jump in the lake. Twice. Surface once. And now, if you don't mind, please leave me alone long enough to greet uhmm, what's your name again?"

The door was closed silently and as Cathy came closer to me I heard Jenny's soft cough from the office next door. There was no way on earth she could not see whatever we were about to do and with a giggle Cathy turned to her.

"You can stay. I'm not going to eat him." She almost swallowed her tongue and looked up at me with a crimson face. "I mean...."

Jenny's laughter got softer as she ran down the corridor and Cathy turned to me again. "That didn't come... Oh god, what am I doing?"

"Will a handshake do?" I asked with a chuckle and she giggled.

"No."

"A kiss then?"

"Just to joggle the memory," she grinned and stepped up to me, her face raised and with millions of sparkles flashing in her eyes.

It wasn't a passionate breathtaking kiss. It was simply "hello again" with a tinge more but it still left me with a warm happy glow.

She leaned back and looked up at me. "There is a very cosy restaurant at the Lodge I'm staying. Will you please join me there tonight?"

I made a playful, if silly, jump into the air. "Please, someone, keep me away!"

Her smile became a little wan. "We need to talk Kevin."

That sentence is enough to make most men pupate in fear and I was not immune to it. My smile ran off like a coward but at least I didn't lose my breath.

"About?" I asked and found myself having to swallow at a lump in my throat. "If I may know, of course."

Her eyes screwed down. "Us," she said simply and a faint smile came at her eyes. "I am staying at Shandon Lodge. Can you be there at six?"

"For what it may mean to me, yes. I will return alive though?"

She laughed softly and leaned against my chest. "You will be alive."

She left and I stood there watching her drive off in the Landy I had hoped to see so many times, so many weeks ago. My gut was in a ball though...

I stayed at work until everyone had gone home even though everybody tried to push me away. They had no idea how scared I was for what may lie ahead.

I drove home, showered and made myself as presentable as possible. Shandon lodge was quite a distance from home and I found that I had to make some serious speed if I was not to be late but got there with minutes to spare. Quite chuffed with myself I made my way to reception, introduced myself and was shown to a pleasant lounge where she found me minutes later.

"Water, beer, wine or do you want to shrivel and die?" she asked grinning and I went for a beer. To my surprise she took one as well and she motioned for me to follow her. We walked out of the main building and towards the river. She seemed up tight herself and I rather appreciated that. At least I was not the only one chewing my nails.

She made for a bird hide and as we went up the steps she reached over and took my hand. I loved it.

Inside the hide, apart from the normal benches that look out through the slits, there was also a table with bunk chairs alongside. She made for one side and from the push on my hand I gathered she wanted me to sit opposite her.

As we sat down she looked out towards the river and sighed before she looked up at me. "I'm sorry I simply left when I did Kevin but there was no time. Poor Macbeth nearly came apart at the speed I was doing to get to Johannesburg and onto a plane."

"Macbeth?"

She grinned. "My Landy. She can climb Everest as a jaunt before breakfast but speed is not her strength."

I chuckled. Well versed in the praise and sins of a vehicle that opened Africa long before anyone else understood four wheel drive, I knew what they were like.

"I asked about your mom when you made me empty a file this afternoon. I cannot remember you answering."

"Sorry Kevin. I had other things on my mind. My mom is fine. In fact, she maintains she feels better than she has in many years. This thing has been creeping up on her for years I think and no-one ever thought this slender woman who is surprisingly fit was headed for a heart attack. She received a total of four stents and within hours she was driving everyone in ICU to distraction."

I smiled at her. I still wanted to meet that woman who could not come to grips with this beautiful country. It meant my relationship with Cathy had to stay. 'We need to talk' had all kinds of threats to it....

"You stayed away for a long time," I accused softly and she gave me a sad smile.

"Yes, I did. There were many reasons."

She got up and strolled to the window of the hide, looking out at a small herd of elephants drinking from the river in the late afternoon with a setting sun behind them. To anyone who may have seen it, it was a beautiful sight but my eyes were riveted on this girl who had clambered into my being. I longed to have her in my arms again. To me she belonged there but there was this 'we have to talk' thing.

After staring at the river for minutes she shrugged to herself and turned to come and sit down again. "When I arrived in London I ran into one of my peers at NG. He drove me home and we were there in record time but on the way we had long conversations. Once he heard that Mom was fine he begged me to do a number of things. One was to give a few lectures at various Universities and high schools while I was there. It is one of those things we as field workers have to do anyway. Another was that they needed me to attend a course in handling new equipment to spy on animals. I also learnt how to make spy cameras that looked like elephant droppings or whatever. I even tried to make one that looked like a ground hornbill but we made a unilateral decision that we will take photos of it and then it would find its way to the waste bin."