Shooting Butterflies (18 page)

She reluctantly turned around to get them. In the last week she had not gotten so used to seeing him almost naked that she was immune to it. She liked seeing him like that, and walking away was hard.

She liked to run her hands over his golden body and feel as each of the muscles twitched at her touch. She didn't think that her hands would ever get used to that, or that she would ever have enough of him.

Grabbing the towels she walked back to where he had stepped out the shower and was gesturing for her to get in. She took off her warm clothes and went into the hot shower, still in her cossie. but instead of stepping away, Wayne put his towel down, and joined her.

‘Wayne!' she squeaked as he stepped behind her and kissed her neck. ‘You're in my shower.'

‘Our shower now,' he murmured as slowly he began to run his hands down her body under the hot water.

She turned to face him, and his lips met hers as she leant into him, and surrendered to the burn that started deep in her body.

Hours later they were seated in the lounge, watching movies on his television. ‘Here,' Wayne said as he passed her a glass of Coke.

She reached up and took it from his hands. ‘Thank you.'

His fingers lingered against hers. ‘I still can't believe we have the cottage to ourselves.'

‘Amazing, that your dad left you at home alone.'

‘I'm not alone, I have you here,' he said.

‘You know what I mean. When mum had to go do some training in Richards Bay for the railways, Lucretia moved in and slept on a mattress in the lounge to be nearer us, we're never left alone.'

‘I'm older, and a boy, so I guess my dad thinks it's okay. Besides, it's just for the day, he'll be in later tonight.'

‘You're only one year older than me, Wayne!' she pointed out as she took a sip and put her glass on the coffee table.

‘A whole year. Three hundred and sixty-five days,' he said as he leant in and kissed her. She put her arms around his shoulders and he pulled her closer.

After a while she pulled her head away.

‘This is the first day since we got together at the beach that we're totally alone. There's always someone around us.'

‘Guess we're lucky today,' he said, and he pulled her on the couch and pulled her into his lap. ‘And I'm lucky to have you here alone with me.'

‘My mum expects me home by eight tonight so that we can be ready to leave in the morning by seven o'clock,' she said as she let her hand wander over his chin and down his neck, tugging at the shirt he had thrown on after their outdoor shower, demanding entry.

‘Ah, but there is plenty we can do before then,' Wayne said as he nuzzled into her collarbone, and kissed from there up her neck. She shivered.

‘You are mine. For now and forever,' he said. ‘I love you, Tara.'

‘I think I'm in love with you too,' she said.

‘Only think?' he asked, and then he kissed her again. ‘I think I might need to change that “think” into a definite “I love you Wayne”,' he said, as he quickly shed his T-shirt and lifted hers up more slowly, kissing each strip of exposed flesh as he went.

‘Hurry,' she said, ‘we might not have all day, your dad could come home …'

She could feel him chuckle as he laughed against her stomach and nipped lower …

Tara watched Wayne disappear from view from the back seat of the car. He was staying at the beach, while they were driving home. After a week together she didn't want to be apart from him. She'd talked more to him in that week than to anyone, except perhaps Gabe, ever.

‘He's a good boy that one,' Lucretia said to her. ‘I see him around town, he's respectful.'

‘Thanks, I like him, and I'm sure he'll behave at the beach after I have left,' Tara said.

But she wasn't sure who she was reassuring, Lucretia or herself, as every kilometre they drove north towards Hluhluwe, Tara felt more pain at having left Wayne behind.

Everything was so new.

Her feelings for Wayne had crept up on her gradually as their friendship deepened. She couldn't stop smiling every time she thought of what they had done, and how much she knew that she loved him with all her heart. She was in new territory, and it made her a little uneasy within herself. She didn't want to lose him now that she had him in her life, and that scared her.

The heat from the winter's day warmed the car, and soon Tara was nodding, almost going to sleep. She opened her window and a refreshing blast of cooler air came in.

‘There is snow on the Drakensberg,' Lucretia said. ‘You can feel it in the wind.'

Tara smiled. ‘I won't challenge you on the weather, you always have it right.'

‘I lived in that area for too many years, Miss Tara. This year there will be deep snow and come spring the plum trees will be pretty with their pink confetti all over the roads, and the plums in December will be big and juicy. It is a good year for the stone fruits. And where we are now, the sugarcane will be lush and thick. The animals will get fat in the National Park.'

‘How come you know so much about farming and weather Lucretia?' Tara asked.

‘I grew up on farms, and spent a lot of time in the Transkei homeland. I learnt things from the women, from the mothers of the land, who teach the girls in the Xhosa homelands and those in Zululand.'

‘I thought those homeland areas were just full of faction-fighting males having territorial disputes over nothing,' Tara said.

‘No, Miss Tara, you have it all wrong. Mostly they are peaceful, and the children are free to play outside and learn how to live on their land. Sometimes there is violence, and much of it is caused by outsiders, coming into those areas, causing trouble.'

‘Well, I'm glad that you came to us. No matter where you came from,' Tara said.

‘I'm happy too because I found your family. Now I can see a young family grow up, and see you do things that an older black woman never can. And I know that you will treat me well, because
you have no man in your house. Maybe one day, pay me a pension to stay at home when I get old too.'

‘What if we can't afford to pay a special pension when you're old, and we just keep paying your normal wages, what then?'

‘Then you look after me like your own granny,' she said, and smiled.

‘You don't want to be our granny, Lucretia. You have heard us talk about that old bat, she isn't kind or nice. Not at all like you.'

‘Aww, Miss Tara, you must respect your elders, I always tell you that.'

‘But she's all bitterness, she doesn't let the sunshine in anytime. How are you supposed to respect that?'

‘Be patient with her. One day, maybe she might be your friend if you let her.'

‘No way, not her, and not Aunty Marie-Ann either. Those two uptight ladies deserve each other.'

Lucretia just smiled at her.

Time passed slowly as they drove through rich farmlands where the sugarcane grew as high as Tara's shoulders, and still they continued north. Eventually, they could tell the start of the Hluhluwe area where the fences became higher and the fat cows changed to fat impala, zebra and other game, and they neared the turn off to their town.

Tara watched as the telephone poles and electric wires on the side of the road had crows sitting on them, waiting for their next meal as the hawks flew around above their car. She saw a barn owl as it hovered over a patch of brown grass, then dip lower and catch a field mouse. It flew off to a grove of taller trees and was lost in the landscape before it even reached the tree, blending with its environment.

Just on midday, they drove into Hluhluwe, and into their own driveway.

Tara jumped out and opened the gate, and her mum drove through and to the carport. Tara closed the gate and walked along the small road. She looked at her home after their first real holiday away.

The back lawn was covered in divots where Frederica had been foraging, and the grass was going to need a cut. But Tara just smiled at the mess, her mind instead thinking of Wayne with his shirt off, cutting the lawn at the beach.

Tara looked around her room.

It was decorated in browns and blues with purple trimmings. The same decorations she'd always had, that the removalist company had delivered along with their household of furniture that first month they were in Huhluwe. On one shelf were all her trophies from her various sports, hung next to ribbons for achievements. She'd added to them in the last two years so now the assortment were from both Junior school in Zimbabwe and Senior school in South Africa, blended together like a blur.

Next to her bed was the picture Gabe had given her of her dad, and she smoothed over the corner where the cheap silver frame was now discoloured to more of a bronze colour underneath the thin coating.

‘Hey, Dad,' she said. ‘I really like him. I think you would like him too. He's funny, and strong, and patient,' she told the photo. ‘And being his friend just kind of crept up on me, and now I'm not sure that I want him to creep out of my life again. I kind of really like him.'

She smiled at the photograph then put it back next to the light that was on her bedside table. Her room wasn't a girly room at all, but then she'd never been a girlie-girl, so it suited her. She had her saddle and bridle sitting on a mount in one corner. Her mother had freaked big time when she'd seen them come out of the packing, but eventually she'd settled down, and even gone to the
Xhostas
Store and picked up the stand they now rested on.

The walls of Tara's room were blank, painted pearl white by her, after her mum had been able to purchase their small house when their money had eventually been transferred from Zimbabwe. As a widow, her mum had been able to bring with her only a household of furniture and $10,000. She knew that many more families had
done the chicken-run out of Zimbabwe with a lot less, and that because of the sanctions they had not been allowed through customs with anything except their suitcases.

It was now their house, and this was her room, and she loved it. She snuggled deeper into her duvet, needing sleep after having late nights and early mornings at the beach. But it had been so good to spend precious time with Wayne. She closed her eyes again, clutching his tracksuit top that she hadn't returned to him. It still had a faint hint of him.

Later, Lucretia gently shook Tara's shoulder. ‘Miss Tara, you need to wake up.'

‘What time is it?' Tara asked.

‘Almost three o'clock in the afternoon. Master Wayne is here.'

‘Very funny. He's still at the beach.'

‘He's waiting for you in the lounge. Get out of bed,' Lucretia said, as she walked to the windows and drew the curtains, letting the white light from outside flood the room.

Tara jumped out of bed, and pulling on her tracksuit, she rushed out of her room. Anticipation zinging through her body at the thought of seeing him. Ignoring her reflection, she ran into the lounge and right into Wayne's arms.

‘Hi to you too,' he said, kissing her lightly on the mouth, then deepening the kiss.

Tara melted, even her toes melted as he held her close, then he squeezed her tightly and lifted her off the floor and twirled around with her for a moment before putting her back down.

Gasping for breath, she inhaled much needed oxygen and he grinned.

‘What are you doing here, I thought you still had another two weeks at the beach?'

‘My dad told me this morning that he had to come home for business, so I came with. I didn't see the point of staying at the beach without you.'

She grinned at him as he held her close.

‘Let's go walk around town.'

‘Okay,' she said and bounded out of the room. ‘Dela,' she hollered as she went down the passage. ‘I'm going out.'

‘Enjoy,' Dela's muffled voice called from her room.

Tara and Wayne walked out the house, hand in hand, ready to show Hluhluwe she had her first boyfriend. They were now a couple.

10

Malabar Farm

Karoi, Zimbabwe

1985

It was the end of September. The transplanted tobacco seedlings' first vital four weeks were up, and the daily wilt of the tobacco leaves that needed to be rehydrated at night in the cooler and moist air was over. Now the new plants would begin to drink deeply, and grow. Their roots sank far into the primed earth below.

‘
Mvura
,' shouted Jamison Shilo Khumalo, signalling with a helicopter gesture above his head so that the huge overhead irrigation sprinklers were turned on by his co-worker Maidza. Jamison stood under the sprinkler as the water splashed down over his hat, and dripped onto his body, cooling him under the hot sun. For three years he'd learnt how to grow the tobacco. Now he'd taken over as bossboy of Malabar, one of the biggest commercial tobacco farms in the area, and he couldn't have his first crop transfer fail.

He looked at the line of sprinklers pumping the water above. The distances were perfect, with the metal piping perfectly spaced in its six-metre lengths, the riser out the piping up to the sprinkler
head jutted towards the blue African sky. His spacing was square, to ensure that his crop didn't show watering circles. He knew that differences in the water pressures and winds blowing the water were just two of the factors he needed to compensate for to ensure there were no patterns in the crop.

The cool water splashed down on the rich soil, and into the channels dug between the rows of the plants. The water quickly disappeared into the sand, but was replaced by more, and as it fell on the seedlings, Jamison smiled.

This would be a good crop. The seedlings were strong, healthy and eager to grow. He knew that he wasn't too late with the water. He'd been taught well by the old man Kitwelle before he retired to his kraal. The white manager of the farm had gone away within a few months of Jamison being employed on Malabar, threatening the farm workers, saying that without him the farm would fall into disrepair and their jobs would disappear. He'd left the old Widow Crosby with only her ‘black boys' to help her.