Setting the portrait down, Rebecca took in the rest of the room. The feel of the room was that of uncontrived minimalism. Not so much a carefully planned absence of clutter, but the undecorated feel of one passing through.
Feeling lost and uncomfortable, Rebecca perched on the edge of the bed. She closed her eyes as the events of the last two days came crashing down on her with a vengeance. It was all too much. Climbing into a stranger’s bed, she pulled the foreign duvet around herself, and gave in to tears.
Unable to contain the flood, Rebecca wept and wept. She wept for the Mom that she barely remembered. Tears flowed for the hole inside her left by not belonging anywhere. She cried for not having a home to go back to. Her life had as much meaning as a piece of driftwood lost at sea – nobody to care, no one who would miss her if she weren’t there.
Choking out the words, she prayed, “Oh God, You shouldn’t have wasted Your time making me.” Hearing the bitterness in her soul’s conclusion out loud sobered her, abating her tears.
She hadn’t heard the knock on the door and was surprised to look up into Shane’s worried face. He stood looking down on her, a box of tissues in hand, at a complete loss for words.
Sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed, Shane took a tissue out the box and offered it to her. “Is there anything I can help with?”
Rebecca took the tissue. His kindness melted her composure completely and she buried her face in the tissue and sobbed.
Shane had been through enough relationships with the opposite sex to know that sometimes it helped just to be there. You didn’t have to say anything, or fix anything; you just had to be there. And so he sat.
After a while, Rebecca drew a ragged breath and peeped at him over the soggy tissue. “Sorry.” Tears shone like diamonds on her wet lashes. “Life has thrown me some curve balls.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Shane proudly wielded another lady’s favorite.
Rebecca managed a weak smile, and flopped sideways onto the pillow. “Thank you, but no. I just want to sleep.”
Shane shrugged, “Okay, but the offer stands. If you need anything, I’m just next door.” But he got no answer. Worn out from weeping, Rebecca was already fast asleep.
***
Driving through to Benoni proved to be trickier than Jason had imagined. They had to stop and ask for directions twice and had spent the last half hour in the right suburb, looking for Swallow View. The pizza had been piping hot when they bought it. It had been slowly cooling, congealing to the consistency of warm rubber. At this rate, Jason was wondering if it would have started growing mould by the time they found the house.
Tim was counting out loud. “Number 49, number 51—ah, here it is on my side. Number 53. Looks quite small. Sure doesn’t look big enough to warrant having a full time cook.”
Jason shrugged, looking puzzled. “I agree. Let’s go see.”
The miniature front garden was beautifully tended with winter-loving Camellia’s in full bloom all along the front of the tiny house. The lawn was neatly clipped and the crisp air carried the scent of fresh creosote from the wooden fence.
There was no doorbell, so Jason knocked loudly and they waited. The woman who opened the door looked weary to the bone. Dark shadows framed her eyes, matching the dark shackles around her wrists. Jason put on his brightest smile, “Hi. My name is Jason. I’m looking for Maxine Rochester.”
“I’m Maxine. How can I help?” It was an effort for her to say those six words. Maxine was probably in her mid-forties, but had stiffness about her reminiscent of a seventy year old. A very unsettling combination.
Jason held out the cold pizza box. “This is for you. Do you mind if we come in for a moment? We need to ask you a few things.”
Too tired to argue, the woman took the pizza and showed them inside. Dumping the box on the counter of the open plan kitchen, she gestured for them to settle in the lounge. “Thank you for the pizza. I don’t remember the competition. How did I win?”
Jason took a deep breath, “The pizza was just an excuse to come and see you.”
Maxine’s whole face said ‘OH?’ without her even opening her mouth.
“I’m looking for a young lady by the name of Rebecca Jones. I believe she was placed in your employment about three years ago?”
Maxine’s skin was so thin you could see the blue vein pulsing in her temple. She did not look healthy. At the mention of Rebecca, she sighed heavily.
“I’m afraid you won’t find her here.” Her words were carefully articulated. Every syllable precisely spoken.
“Does she no longer work for you?”
“The last time I saw her was three years ago, shortly after I employed her. If she’s still there, you’ll find her on the Sun-kissed Farm, halfway between Jamestown and Queenstown. If she’s no longer there—” her voice trailed off, and she shrugged. Maxine was breathing heavily from the effort of talking.
“I’m not sure I understand. Wasn’t she employed to work here?”
“No. It’s a long story; I don’t care to share it. Try the farm.” The meeting was taking its toll; she looked more tired than when they’d arrived.
Not wanting to burden her more than necessary, Jason stood to take his leave, “Thank you so much Maxine. I appreciate your help more than you know—” The rest of his sentence trailed off into silence as he stared at her and beyond her. Tim half stood, but seeing Jason mesmerized, quickly sat back down.
Behind the couch she was sitting on, stood the apparition of a distinguished silver-haired gentleman who was smiling down on her lovingly. The image was translucent and hazy as if Jason were looking through a heat wave. On either side of Maxine on the couch, sat two young men. One, with brown wavy hair, had his arm around her shoulders, and the other lay with his head on her lap. The one reclining on her lap had straight blonde hair and torment twisted his features. The two were as nebulous as the old man.
Jason was shocked to hear his own voice speaking, “You are far away from your family because you are afraid that being near to them would be dangerous for them. But they need you.” Staring at the image, he knew in his heart that their futures balanced on a knife-edge, and she was the key. Speaking with conviction, Jason continued, “You need to strongly consider going back to them.” Pausing to swallow, he repeated, more forcefully, “They need you.”
As the words left his mouth, the images faded and he was left staring at Maxine who was sitting all by herself on the couch. Her mouth hung open and she sat dead still, staring at Jason. “How do you know this?”
Feeling the strength leave his legs, Jason dropped onto the couch at a complete loss for words. He batted the ball back into her court. “Is any of what I said true?”
Maxine frowned, weighing her words. “Three years ago I was diagnosed HIV positive.” She glanced sideways at Jason to gauge his reaction. When he didn’t flinch, she continued, “I was involved in a minor accident seven years before that and needed a few pints of blood. HIV was still relatively unheard of, and the blood banks weren’t as careful as they are now.” She shrugged, “We only discovered it three years ago. My husband and I instantly panicked. I was so scared of infecting him, or one of the boys. We decided that the only thing I could do was to leave. We chose not to tell the boys why. We were worried that they wouldn’t understand that I couldn’t live with the family any longer. I had a very efficient housekeeper, so we hired Rebecca to help with the cooking and I left.” She stated the facts so simply, with the wooden expression of a seasoned news anchor. Speaking so much had exhausted her and she sank back into the couch.
Jason stared at Maxine. Listening to her story, all he could think about was his little sister, and how precious the last few months of her life had been for him. He imagined being denied that time with her and tears stung his eyes.
Moving to the very edge of the chair, closer to Maxine, he reached out and took her hand in his. The cuff around her wrist looked dark and menacing in comparison to her pale skin.
She offered no resistance, merely observed, looking drained and listless.
“Please listen to me. I had a little sister.” He was struggling to speak past the lump in his throat. “Her name was Nicole. She was only seventeen when she died of Leukemia. Before she got sick, she was so full of life. Yet within eight months of being diagnosed, she was no longer with us.” Jason wiped a tear off the tip of his nose with his sleeve.
Eyes boring into hers, he spoke quietly, but with a passion that blazed through every soft syllable, “Maxine, if someone had denied me those last few months with Nic’s, I don’t think I would still be sane now.” He swallowed hard before adding, “As it is, I’m only just coping.” He left the ‘sometimes’ unsaid. He let go of her hand, and reached for his hanky. “Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
“I agree with Jason, Max.” Sally had arrived at some point during the conversation and had stayed in the background, listening quietly. Now she sat herself down next to Maxine and put arm around her shoulders.
Maxine seemed torn, “It’s not safe. I’m dangerous for those around me. As it is, I’m terrified that something will happen to you. How much worse my husband and sons?” She sank into Sally’s arms, anguish written all over her face.
Jason spoke again, “The University that I lecture at sent us on an HIV awareness program. I learnt a lot about the disease. The most important thing I came away with was the fact that there is no reason you cannot live with your family quite safely. Things have changed drastically since the early days of AIDS. You would need to be aware of certain situations in which you’d have to take extra care, but there’s absolutely no need for you to live as an outcast.” Jason pointed to Sally, “How long has Max been living here?”
The sisters conferred, “Three years.”
“Right. Point in case. Has she—what’s your name? Sally? Okay. Has Sally been infected with HIV?”
A faint smile touched Maxine’s lips, “No, she hasn’t. I make her test regularly and she’s fine.”
Jason grinned at them, “So if you can live here safely, you could live with your family safely too.”
Sally was nodding vigorously, “Couldn’t agree more. Not that I don’t love having you here,” she hugged her sister close and kissed her on the top of her head, “but I’m tired of seeing you pine away for your family. Sometimes I think that’s making you more ill than the virus.”
A faint flush of color infused Maxine’s cheeks, and her eyes had a sparkle that had not been there when Jason arrived. “You’re very convincing. I just don’t know that my husband will agree. He was adamant that I couldn’t stay there.”
Again, Jason felt the urge in his gut. Ignoring his instincts to wash his hands and be on his way, he followed the urge. “Time can change anything. I can speak to him for you, if you want me to. I’m going there anyway.”
Maxine said nothing, but nodded slowly at first, then more briskly with conviction. Finally she added, “Please.” She reached out to clasp his hands in gratitude. Jason couldn’t help noticing that the cuffs had gone from her wrists. Then you will know the truth and the truth will set you free.
Tim had sat quietly throughout the conversation with both hands on his skin-and-bones belly to silence the rumblings. Grabbing his only chance to get a word in edge-ways he blurted out, “How about some pizza?”
The room erupted in laughter.
***
They’d barely pulled out of Sally’s driveway, when Tim tackled Jason.
“What the blazer’s just happened in there? What are you, some weird white Sangoma ? How did you know all that stuff about her?”
Jason grimaced. “You don’t know the half of it. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Flip Halloway, how long have we been friends? You can’t seriously keep me in the dark.”
“Problem is, I don’t know what’s going on myself. If I knew, I would tell you.” Jason kept driving, looking straight ahead, not wanting to see Tim’s reaction. “You know the shackles from my dream? I keep seeing them on people’s arms and legs. And I’ve been hearing voices.” He thought for a moment then corrected himself, “One voice actually. In Maxine’s lounge I saw her family.” Jason looked at Tim, “I saw her family, Tim. That’s not normal.” He shook his head and turned his attention back to the road. “To be honest, I’m freaked out. I don’t know what to make of all this. It started the day I found the portrait and the letters. Maybe I need some serious therapy. I don’t know. The only thing I’m sure of is that I have to find Rebecca. That’s been the only constant driving me since I found that portrait. Maybe she’s the key.”
Tim took it all in and said nothing. The silence grew thicker and more uncomfortable with every passing second. Eventually he asked, “Uh, where are we going?”
“Hey?” Jason sat up and looked around as if seeing things for the first time. “Oh heck. I wasn’t paying attention. I haven’t a clue where we are.” Pulling over, he dug out the map and started trying to pin point their location.
“Do you want me to drive?” Tim sounded genuinely worried.
“Just because I’m hearing voices and seeing spooks, doesn’t mean I’m senile!” He stopped for a moment and looked at Tim, consternation written all over his face.
Tim’s eye’s stretched as wide as dinner plates, “Spooks, huh?”
Jason winced and buried his head in the map book, groaning. “Oh dear God, I think I need help!”
Chapter 17 – The Boss and his Servant
Hazel had been awake since three in the morning. She only had to be up by five, but after tossing and turning for twenty minutes she gave up, wrapped herself in her fluffy gown and headed for the kitchen.
She made herself some a strong cup of coffee, and went to sit by the large fireplace that dominated the lounge. The fire had nearly burnt out, but was still giving off comforting warmth. A feeling of anticipation was fluttering in her gut. Unable to pinpoint the source of the excitement, Hazel turned her thoughts heavenward. “What are You busy doing Lord?” She sat quietly, not really expecting an answer but so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t hear the soft footfall coming from the main living quarters of the farm.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?” The voice interrupted her thoughts so rudely that she nearly dropped her coffee in her lap.
“What the— Oh, it’s you!” Relief flooded her voice. “Sorry Sir. I just can’t sleep. Let me make you some tea.”
Hazel moved to get up, but Edward Rochester put a hand on her shoulder to stop her, “No, you’re off duty now. I can get my own tea. Would you like a cookie?”
The whole situation was so bizarre – so backward – that Hazel found herself saying, “That… would be nice. Thank you. ”
It didn’t take long to re-boil the kettle, and soon Edward joined her in the lounge. “Would you mind some company?” He seemed so much softer at this time of the morning, a completely different person. Hazel wondered if she were dreaming.
“No, Sir.” Her ebony face crinkled into a smile, full of love and respect. “Why can’t you sleep?”
“Well, I could ask you the same thing, Hazel.” He sipped his tea, “I’ve been thinking about Madam Maxine. I don’t know if I made the right decision.” His gaze slid sideways to Hazel, “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”
Hazel could see the strain in the lines on his face. Every crease told its own story of grief. Emboldened by the strangely free atmosphere, Hazel took her future in her hands and asked, “Have you ever thought of asking Lord Jesus what would be best?”
Rochester’s eyes slid sideways and he peered at Hazel from under a sceptical brow. “I’m not really in the habit of talking to invisible deities. That’s your department. Besides, I wouldn’t know what to ask, or how to recognize the answer if it ever came. Not much point, is there?”
Bold beyond her natural self, Hazel asked, “Would you mind if I pray for you?”
“Now?”
“No time like the presen
t, they say. Would you mind?”
Rochester snorted, “I guess it can’t do any harm. Just don’t expect me to believe it.”
Hazel grinned at him, “You only have to believe what you see for your self.” Perching on the edge of her chair, she rubbed her hands together to get some warmth into her fingers. Then she prayed simply, “Lord Jesus, please show my boss what to do about Madam Maxine. Thank you Lord.”
There was nothing else to say and the two drained their cups in silence. They parted company soon after, Edward to his quarters and Hazel to hers to get ready for the day. As much as she tried to ignore it, the bubble of anticipation in her belly was growing.
***
Hazel was completely frustrated. The day had passed like any other, but the anticipation wouldn’t leave. It reminded her of the last days of her pregnancy. Every morning had been filled with a ‘maybe today’ expectation, and disappointment had ruled at the end of the day when labor hadn’t begun. All through the roller coaster of emotions ran the strong track of certainty that sooner or later, a baby would arrive.
Which he had, albeit seven long days late.
Shaking off the past, Hazel tried to focus on preparing Bobotie for dinner. Rochester was back to his normal stern self, as if their conversation in the wee hours had never happened. Hazel knew him well enough by now, not to expect anything different. Claude was still missing and Kenneth was throwing himself into work around the farm, trying to extinguish the anxiety that threatened to consume him. The whole atmosphere on the farm was pretty grim.
Putting the Bobotie in the oven to bake, Hazel was reaching for the dinner plates when the crunching of gravel outside announced the arrival of a car. Hazel’s heart fluttered and she nearly dropped the plates. “This is it!”
Outsiders rarely set foot on the farm, so this arrival heralded something out of the ordinary—even if it was just Claude returning home—though the amount of ruckus from the four dogs hinted at the arrival of a stranger. Hazel wiped her hands on her apron and headed to the front door.
***