Chapter 7

I found that Duma did not take well to the house guests. He was leering at them from different hideaway holes in the house. HIS domain now infiltrated by scary humans. I think Duma is planning revenge. His planning office, my bedroom. Sitting in the window and observing Charley and Aubrey. Devising his tactics. Planning his retribution. I think he likes Tracy and Laura though.

I went downstairs and was hit by a very inviting aroma. BREAKFAST smells emanating from the direction of the kitchen. Like ‘Scooby Doo’, I followed my nose. Food. Must find that food!

In the kitchen, I came upon a vision. Khaki Cargo shorts, Long skinny legs. Athletic shoes. Green, black, orange, and some other indistinguishable colour, check shirt with Ginger hair in two braids hanging down the back. My kitchen apron looking misplaced on the figure, turning hash browns in a pan. Tracy cooking breakfast!

“Something smells good enough to eat!” I said. Tracy turned towards me. Smiling. The sun came up in the kitchen.

“G’ Morn-in Don! Slept well?”

“Morn-in Tray! Yes. Like a log.” I fibbed. I tossed and turned most of the night.

“Ooh. You look like coffee will put you right. Those red eyes look like you did not sleep well. Wasn’t me, or Duma. He slept with me. Must have been some or another Waif that kept you awake! What did she do? Mess with ye head?” Tracy said while doing her ‘shy little girl’ look.

“Don’t tempt me to paddle that little bottom of yours!” I said.

“Ooh. DADDY chromosomes coming through strong now, don’t they? Better me watch me step!” Tracy smirked. She came over to me. Tiptoed up and pecked me on the cheek. “Morning Poppa-Don.” Giggle. Tracy looked around the kitchen. Checking to see if someone was within earshot. Then looked at me with those emerald green eyes peering out from under the red fringe in a shy, seductive way. “Still love yea.” I melted. Thinking about the ‘Poppa-Don’ thing. If I do adopt her, she’ll have me on the tips of my toes.

“Come! I’ll pour you a cup-pa.” and Tracy took my hand and led me over to the kitchen table. I followed her and sat down at the table. I looked at Tracy while she busied herself, fixing me a mug of coffee. She was only about five feet one or two inches tall. Only about ninety pounds. Thin. Looking at her you could see she was young. Fourteen years of age. Doing the Nerdy Tomboy thing well. Only needed oral braces and black-rimmed eyeglasses! But listen to her talk. Although she used her English in a mugged-up way, she was fast and sharp of comprehension.

A Girl-Woman. Not any more a child, not yet a woman. Still skipping around like a young girl, but when she opened that mouth. Witty. Understanding complex stuff with just a simple explanation. Like the systems on the PC-24. Took her all but an hour to start making her own assumption about the data presented and correctly applying the knowledge.

A steamy mug of coffee hit the table before me. Just right. Brewed in the percolator from the finest dark-roasted Arabic beans. Like I always maintained: Coffee should be, as dark as the Devil, strong as Hell, and as sweet as a kiss! Yes! Brewed and prepared just right. Show Tracy once. THEN, let her run with it.

“Where’s our guests?” I asked.

“Aubrey and Charley are out checking something. Laura is feeding the chickens.” Came the answer from Tracy. “I think they’ll be here soon. Told them to be back for breakfast.”

I thought that these guys would be around us, but apparently, they took their jobs seriously and acted very well. I was satisfied with the outcome so far. I had a run out to Gaborone in Botswana coming up. Air show stuff and Tracy would be left on her own. I cannot take her with me, as I had to clear customs and she had no passport. I’ll be out for at least three or four days, flight, and display times included. Thus, having our three ‘guests’ around was a blessing in disguise for me.

Just then the trio cops joined us for breakfast. The morning meal went down well. Compliments to the chef. Tracy blushed again as comments were made of her cooking skills. I must ask her where she got to be so good at it, seeing she lost her Mom at a young age.

(Meanwhile, in the suburb of Sandton, north of Johannesburg, a car was parked in one of the side streets overlooking a three-story house.)

Alex sat low in the car seat. He was watching the house on the opposite side of the street. There was a high brick wall around the property. Large trees scattered around and throughout the property. Alex was a little disappointed. Not much to see. Even the gate to the property gave no sight inside the grounds. He would have to get inside. So far, he did not see any other security devices, except an electric fence along the top of the wall. The back of the property was bordered by a tree-lined stream. It might prove to be an entry point.

A helicopter flew past. Nothing out of the ordinary. He waited. Needed confirmation of who would be inside the premises. He’s got time. If the girl or the guy showed themselves, he will know. The hunter will strike...

Somewhere in the sky above the Johannesburg suburb of Sandton a white and blue coloured AS350 BIII helicopter made a lazy turn in the sky. One crew member took the binoculars away from his eyes and keyed his transmit button.

“Lima Victor, Lima Victor four.”

“Lima Victor four, send over”

“Lima Victor four, suspect spotted forty metres south of Alpha one.”

“Lima Victor four, understood, Lima Victor out.” The helicopter flew on. In no hurry. Lazily continuing his patrol.

Somewhere in the Metro of the City of Tshwane, a telephone rang. The call was routed to Brigadier Joe Franks. He listened intensely to the report. He said a few words. Thanking the caller, he dropped the call.

“Let’s force his hand,” he said softly. Then he placed a call to the local police station Commissioner.

Alex was waiting. Patient. Like a python lying in wait. Coiled. Ready to strike! He sat low in the car. Formulating his plan. Tonight. If there is no movement in or around the house, he’ll go in tonight after Ten. Alex sat for fifteen minutes longer.

A white and blue patrol van pulled up behind Alex’s parked car. Two uniformed policemen got out. One taking station just behind and to the right of Alex’s car. The other policeman approached carefully. Both men had their hands on their holstered guns.

“Good Morning Sir. Will you step out of your car slowly? Keep your hands where I can see them!” Alex knew that he was in a spot. Have they watched him? Is this a random check while on patrol? He, luckily, had no equipment with him. Alex complied with the request.

After checking his driver’s licence and ID, the Officers warned Alex that his presence was noted by the residents in the street. Seeing that this was a high-risk area for armed robberies and home invasions, it was reported. The officers then asked Alex to “Please move along.”

With his presence now compromised, Alex thanked the officers and got in his car to drive off.

(Back to the North West Province near the town of Brits.)

Laura, Tracy, and I went out to the stables. Aubrey and Charles were around in the light brush somewhere. Doing what seems to be fence repair. Laura seems to be a skilled horse rider. She spent a stint with the PMU (police mounted unit) and thus had some very good riding skills.

The consensus was that she would teach Tracy the basics of horse riding. Tracy, on the other hand, eyed the five American Quarter Horses, standing grazing in the paddock, with a little apprehension. Laura saw Tracy’s nervousness.

“Don’t show them that you are nervous. Just walk up slowly and go stand midway between them and the gate.” Laura told Tracy. “See what happens. It will be good.”

“Don, they are fine horses!” Laura said. “Seems you not only have a good eye for Girls!” She smirked. Tracy Blushed. Tried to hide her blush, made up her mind, and went through the gate.

Tracy stopped about midway between the gate and the horses like Laura told her. The five horses looked up from the grazing, sensing the presence of a new human. Sara, the more inquisitive of the five, dropped her head and walked up to Tracy. Tracy stood absolutely still. I could sense that she was nervous. Sara stopped, lifted her head, and looked at Tracy. Flicking her ears. Tracy lifted her right arm, holding her hand out, palm down.

Sara decided that it was safe. She walked up to Tracy, dropping her head, and sniffing at Tracy’s fingers.

“Touch the side of her head!” Laura said. Tracy did as she was told. She lightly touched Sara’s cheek, stroking gently.

“Talk to her. Tell her she’s a fine horse.” Laura said. Again, Tracy did as was told. She spoke to Sara. I could not hear what she said. Tracy then stunned me. Most probably overcame her nervousness and reached up with both hands and placed them around Sara’s neck as far as the short arms could go. Sara responded by flicking her ears and snorting. Tracy kept up talking to Sara, gently stroking her neck.

“Now Tracy, come back here,” Laura said. Tracy half turned, still stroking Sara’s neck. Then she slowly walked back to us. Sara waited a couple of moments. Then she lowered her head a few inches and followed Tracy back to the gate. Stopping just short of the gate. Head up high, ears flicking. Tail swatting away.

“That’s how you pick a horse, Tracy!” Laura said. “Sara chose you. Now you have a friend. Go back and play with her. Pick some grass and feed it to her.” Laura told Tracy.

With a big smile plastered across her face, nervousness gone, Tracy walked confidently up to Sara. Tracy grabbed a huge handful of grass. She then held the handful of grass out, offering it to Sara. Sara sniffed at the grass. Then took it. Tracy opened her hand. Sara happily munching the grass, watching Tracy with her big dark brown eyes.

Tracy looked over her shoulder. A huge grin on her face. By then the other four horses moused over. Forming a ring around Tracy. Sniffing at her. Sara nudging Tracy with her nose. A giggle reached us. Tracy was happy. Overcome with how the horses accepted her. What else did I expect? The Horses were good-natured.

“Those are good animals,” Laura said to me. “Where did you find them?” I place my hands on the fence, looking at the serene scene in front of me.

“They’re rescues too. Found abandoned by the SPCA. (Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.) They Doctored the horses back to life. I paid only their vet costs.” I said. “A farm needs horses. Such gentle and intelligent animals. They’re happy. I am happy.”

“You’re an enigma Don,” Laura said. “You ... you keep doing things that I can’t explain. Rescue animals ... rescue...” She let her words trail off. Looked away somewhere. Lost in thought.

“Anyway, let me get to my student. Didn’t think I’d ever teach riding to anyone.” Laura said, turned, and went up to Tracy. Tracy now being mobbed by the horses. Hand feeding them handfuls of grass. Giggling and laughing. The horses, nudging her for more. Competing for her attention.