Shooting Butterflies (17 page)

‘At least you got to know your dad's mum. She sounds so nice. I don't know my grandparents.'

‘If they are like my mother's family, then you are better off,' Tara said. ‘Although, I have to say, now I think my gran is just like any other bully.'

‘A bully?'

‘Yes. When we had been there a day or so, my gran told me that her hand was itching, and she raised her hand to hit me across the face. I caught her wrist and squeezed her – hard. I told her that I was too old to have her try and hit me now. And if she did try, even though I was still shorter than her, I was younger and probably stronger and I would hit back.' Tara's voice was fierce, and she
pulled away from Wayne slightly. ‘I reminded her our dad trained Dela and I in unarmed combat just in case something happened on the farm, so she could forget hitting Dela too, because I'd come after her if she ever touched her. I told her that her days of smacking us were over.'

Wayne hugged her closer to him again. ‘Tara, that is awesome. You stood up to her!'

‘I did. But it was sad too. She looked so defeated when she realised that she could no longer control us by force. I pitied her that she believed that that was the only way to control us granddaughters. And I told her that grandmothers were supposed to be for loving, and spoiling, and extra hugs, not hurting their grandkids.'

‘You are incredible. Such strength in such a small body.'

‘Hey who you calling small? I'm petite, don't you know.' Tara smiled then giggled.

‘No, you are not. You are perfect,' Wayne said and he brushed his hand flat across her belly.

She turned around in his arms to face him. ‘You know, I'm not so strong. Standing up to her wasn't my idea. I told Gabe, my cousin, before we left that the one thing I was dreading was more smacks from her for no reason, and he said, “Then don't let her. Stand up for yourself and for your sister.” So I give the credit to Gabe, that she hasn't even attempted to hit either of us again. And she obviously told my aunty because she never tried it again either.'

‘I'm so sorry you have had such a hard time, Tara. Really. It's unfair,' Wayne said, pressing his forehead to hers. ‘And I'm so happy to hear they don't hit you anymore. That is how it should be. My parents have never hit me. Despite my dad being so much older than my mum, from almost a different generation, he doesn't believe that stupid saying “spare the rod spoil the child”. I think he would go
berserk
if he ever found someone had hit me.'

Tara turned back face the sea and they lapsed into silence for a while, just watching as the huge boat in the Aliwal shoal shipping channel continued northwards to Durban or Richards Bay to dump its cargo.

‘Just so you know, I can't cook or do washing either,' Wayne said, and Tara began to laugh.

Wayne smiled. ‘Come on, it's time we got back. My dad will send out a search party for us soon.' He let go of her reluctantly and then once again held her hand as they negotiated the path back to the beach party, and the bonfire they could see burning brightly, causing a warm orange glow above the beach area.

9

Love's First Touch

Margate Beach, Natal, South Africa

July 1984

A strange sound against the window woke Tara.

‘Pssst, Tara, wake up, it's time to surf,' Wayne called out under her windowsill as he threw beach sand against the panel again.

She opened her eyes and groaned. Last night, when her mum had agreed to letting her have a surfing lesson, Tara hadn't taken into account the late night–early morning timing. Her eyes still felt like grit, her body heavy from lack of sleep. Yet somehow, she jumped out of bed smiling. Opening the window she said, ‘Hi. I'll let you in through the kitchen door.' She closed the window and rested her head on the security bars for a moment, then rushed to the kitchen.

‘Come on, sleepyhead, the surf's great at this time,' he said, as he walked through the doorway, then he stopped and simply stared at her.

‘What?' she asked, self-consciously patting her pyjamas down, making sure she wasn't showing too much skin.

‘You look …' he said, and he smiled. Her heart melted at his grin as it lit his whole face with a joy she hadn't often seen there.

‘Come on, get ready. The surf doesn't wait for anyone. Make sure you bring a long sleeve top to surf in, it's turned cool.'

She almost skipped out the room in happiness, rushing to pull on her costume. As she quickly brushed her teeth she stared at herself in the mirror. She looked just the same on the outside. Her ash blonde hair was turning darker as she grew older, and at the moment she wore it in a bob cut, blunted just below her jawline. Her body was the same as ever, she didn't have lots of boob, as they, like everything else, had taken their time to even start growing. She wondered what Wayne saw when he looked at her.

Down on the beach the sea breeze was cool, the clouds had blown in overnight. Dressed in her costume and a tracksuit top, she was enjoying the clean salt air and the company. Mostly she sat on the board Wayne had strapped to her with her feet just dangling in the water as she watched him catch wave after wave, and surf in, only to fall off and have to swim out to her again. She'd tried to catch one, and was about to try her next one.

‘This one, get ready. Go.'

She lay flat on her board, and paddled with her hands, then when she could feel the sea was carrying her board under her, she held on to the side, and tentatively raised her knees off the board.

The board continued forwards.

She stood up, put her arms out and came crashing down off the board into the sea.

Spluttering, she came back up, laughing at the sensation. Wayne was already near her.

‘You okay?'

‘Fine. It's harder than you make it look.'

‘You stood,' he said as she clambered back onto her board and sat up.

‘I did.' She grinned in happiness.

He swam his board closer to hers and then laid his hand on her board so they were joined together. ‘You were great,' he said, ‘so
great!' He leant over to her, putting both hands on her shoulders, pulled her to him, and kissed her.

It was a short kiss.

It was her first kiss.

‘Mmm,' he said as he then pulled her slowly towards him again, this time taking time to rain little kisses from her cheek to her mouth. Eventually his soft lips captured hers, and his tongue ran the length of her mouth, which she opened for him, and then couldn't help but sigh as she tasted Wayne.

Waves of pleasure ran through her at his kiss, and she pulled away, startled and shocked that she'd participated.

‘Wow,' said Wayne.

She brought her hand up to her lips and touched them. They still tingled with sensations that she didn't quite understand, and she could still taste a minty freshness, the masculine difference of Wayne.

At fifteen she'd just experienced her first real kiss.

Her heart sang, her body felt like it was so light that she could fling her arms out and turn circles … then reality struck as she lost her balance on the board and, after almost toppling into the water, she quickly righted herself.

‘Wow,' she said out loud.

But there was no one to hear her. Wayne had just caught another wave in and she could see him as he balanced on his board, moving as one with the water.

He paddled back to her. He pointed. She looked behind and could see a big swell coming. She got ready.

This time she stood up for longer, and she was dumped harder into the water when she fell. The cord on her ankle yanked as her board was thrown one way and she another. She surfaced through the foaming water, coughing up water.

Wayne was surfing another wave already, coming towards her at speed. She watched him until she realised that he was going to go right over her. But he'd seen her and instead he jumped off and swam the small distance to her, towing his board behind him.

‘You good?' he asked.

‘Fine. But I think I swallowed half the ocean that time.'

‘Let's go in, the sea is turning rough. Do you want to have hot chocolate at my place and warm up?'

‘Sure,' she said and together they got back on their boards, and paddled to shore.

When they got to the beach Wayne held her ankle in place as he removed the ripcord. Once he took it off, he stroked the area with his thumb. ‘Hey, it chafed you a bit.'

‘It's not sore,' she said.

‘Might be later. I'll put some antiseptic on when we get into the kitchen, so it doesn't get infected.'

‘Thanks,' she said, tugging her leg back, not because she didn't like his touch, but because she liked the feeling of him touching her too much.

She tried to think back to every conversation she'd had with Dela. As sisters they talked all the time, about everything, and nothing was off limits. She thought about the conversations she'd listened into between the other girls at school, about boys, how they felt when they were touched, and how they acted with their boyfriends. She couldn't remember a single one of them saying they liked having a guy touching them. Being curious, and letting him touch, sure. Actually wanting him to carry on touching them further? Have their hands explore them? No. Not even the girls who were in the next standard up, with boyfriends, had ever said anything like that.

She shivered.

‘You cold?' Wayne asked. ‘Here, take your wet tracksuit off and wrap up in a towel, you'll be warmer soon.'

‘Thanks,' she said pulling her top off and wrapping the large towel around herself. Although it cocooned her, hiding her from the outside world, it didn't help stop the shaking.

‘Hey, you really did get too cold,' Wayne said. He stepped towards her, put his arms around her and ran them over the outside of the towel, up and down her body, helping transfer heat to her. Where his hands touched her she was on fire, but her body couldn't process the heat, and she shook more.

‘You're not alright,' he said after a while. Hugging her to him and just standing still. Holding her.

After a while, Tara found her voice. ‘I'm fine. Just scared.'

Immediately he dropped his hands away from her and stepped back.

‘I'm not about to hurt you,' he said, his voice strained and in a pitch that she'd never heard, as if he was pained by what she'd said.

‘I know that, Wayne. It's not you. It's me. I can't do this. I'm not made like you,' she protested.

‘I scare you?'

‘No, I scare me. I liked your kiss. I liked your hand touching my leg, and that's what scares me. I have never had a boyfriend before, you know that. I don't know what to do, what to say, what to think of these new feelings. I don't know what will happen to you if you love me because everything I love is always taken from me. I loved my dad, and my uncle, yet they were taken away. I loved our farm and my horse and they were sold off. Everything I really love is taken from me, and I'm too scared to love anything in case that gets taken away too. I stopped having any feelings for anyone, because if I do, it hurts too much to have them ripped away, so I just don't. I can't. It hurts too much.'

She looked at him as he slowly took the step back towards her. Once again he drew her into him. Still wrapped in the towel she couldn't protest and he hugged her close. Squeezing her lightly, trailing his hands slowly over her back.

‘I'm here now. And when we get back to Hluhluwe, I'll still be there beside you. I'm not going anywhere. I really like you. It's not something sudden, and it's worth us working on. We can take it slow, you and me. I haven't had a girlfriend either, so we can explore these feelings together. I'm not too proud to tell you that.'

She felt herself begin to melt into him as her shakes subsided, and a new heat started where his body touched hers.

‘So many feelings, Wayne. I just don't know how to take them all in.'

He laughed and smiled at her. He lowered his forehead onto hers. ‘Me too,' he said. ‘We'll work it out. Just talk to me, tell me what's going on in that pixie head of yours, and I can try to understand.'

‘I'll try,' she said.

‘Cool, so does that mean we are going steady now? I can call you my girlfriend?' he asked.

‘I guess,' she said and she snuggled closer.

‘Wear this dry tracksuit top until we get to the house. I make the best hot chocolates, even my dad thinks so,' he said.

He helped her drop her towel, and shimmy into the tracksuit top.

‘This is getting to be a habit, me wearing your clothes,' she said.

‘I like you in my clothes,' he said as he rolled up her sleeves for her. It was far too big on Tara, and came down her thighs like a mini dress. It was fleece lined and warm, and it smelled of Wayne. Spicy and salty and Wayne. She inhaled the scent deeply before helping him pick up their gear and head to his house.

Wayne held Tara's hand as they walked back to his cottage from their last morning of surfing. It was Saturday again, this was going to be her last day at the beach before heading home.

She hadn't ever known time to pass so fast. She was trying so hard to comprehend where the week had gone. She knew that she had spent almost all of it with Wayne.

‘My dad had to go to Port Shepstone early so we have the place to ourselves. I'll make the hot chocolate once we've showered.'

‘Great because I'm cold,' she said.

‘Tara, you are always cold. Give me a second to wash these boards and I'll come cuddle with you and warm you up,' he said, standing the boards up under the outside shower, first rinsing them, then his own body. Tara watched as he removed his wet suit, and stood just in his jocks, under the water.

Her mouth went dry.

‘Grab the towels won't you? I left them by the kitchen door,' he said.