Chapter 7

I looked at a stern-faced Mai-Loan. She actually had tears glinting in the corners of her eyes. She was visibly trembling, either from fright or emotion ... more emotion, if I could guess. Mai-Loan was not the easily frightened type. I was stunned by the news she just gave me. My legs felt like jelly and I sank down on a chair on the patio, closing my eyes. No, not this!

Don came up the patio steps to the hut at a run. He had also heard the news. There has been an accident; a serious car accident.

“We’ll fly! Chopper’s ready,” Don said, not even out of breath.

“Let me make a call first,” I said, taking my cell phone out my pants pocket and speed dialled a number. “We’ll need transport. I’ll get us transport, or at least one destination less for now.” Both Don and Mai-Loan sat down on the chairs on the patio. Mai-Loan wiped the wetness out her eyes with the back of her left hand. Both Don and Mai-Loan looked at me, a question on their faces, but not saying a word. The number rang and I hit the speakerphone button. Dad can take a while to reply. He never did get it that he must keep his phone with him.

“Well, if it isn’t my long-lost son! Hello boy, what’re you up to?” My dad asked.

“Not long-lost. I called last week, Dad ... twice,” I said.

“Yeah well, it feels like last year,” Dad said.

“Dad, I need a favour. A big favour,” I said, with a quiver in my voice, I suppose my dad heard, but he let it pass.

“Well, that depends. I’ve no money lying around,” He said, chuckling, as always ... pulling my leg.

“Nope. I need you to go to the hospital in town. There’s a young girl there, Lucy Richards. She was injured in a car crash outside of town. Please go to see her. She’s sixteen, alone and scared,” I said to my dad, knowing he would act immediately.

“So, where’s her family?” Dad asked.

“No family. I’ll tell you ... or she could tell you,” I said.

“Sounds interesting. It’s a long drive to Louis Trichardt, but we’ll go there. What’s she look like, I mean how do I recognise her?”

“The last time I saw her, just before they left, she was dressed in khaki bush shorts, khaki short sleeve shirt, bush boots and a baseball cap. She’s blond; long blond hair, in a ponytail,” I told my dad.

“Seems like you have an eye for the girl,” my dad said, and chuckled. “Little young though.” Mai-Loan smirked and Dave looked amused.

“Dad! Not like that. I’ll ... I’ll tell you the story later tonight. First, I need to go to Polokwane,” I said.

“Why Polokwane, what’s there?” Dad asked.

“The girl Lucy was driving with. Lisa ... Lisa was taken to Polokwane by helicopter with suspected neck and spinal injuries,” I said. My dad became serious.

“Johnny-Boy!” and I knew he was serious. He only calls me by my first name if something is serious. “Let your mother and me get to ... what’s her name, Lucy, right? Why so many ‘Ls,’ are you getting them by the alphabet these days, or were they on special?” Mai-Loan chuckled and whispered “Johnny-Boy” to Don, looking sideways at me with a smile on her face.

“DAD! Her name is Lucy. I only know her as Lucy Richards,” I said.

“Good! You said, we’ll see you later tonight?”

“Yes, there will be three of us. And Dad, we will fly in Don’s five thirty. Not mine,” I said.

“Okay. I’ll leave the spotlights on. You know, ye old playground next to the barn. Watch out, the old tree has grown a bit in the meantime,” Dad said, knowing that it was a long time since I’ve been to the farm with the helicopter.

“Thanks Dad. And Dad, I believe Lucy was not injured badly. If they discharge her, take her home with you, please.”

“Son! It will be done. I’ll get your mom to go with me. You say she’s at the local state hospital? Not good! Not good at all. People go there to die. Your mom and I will go rescue her and take her somewhere better if need be.” Dad said. “How serious was she injured?”

“I believe, only scrapes and bruises, but one will never know,” I said.

“Okay son, leave it to Mom and me. Levubu Rescue One scrambling now!” Dad said, and chuckled. He likes to mock me about the flying. He imitates world war two Royal Air Force slang. I think it’s his way to try to calm my nerves. Levubu Rescue One, his old Toyota Hi-Lux, for ducks fake!

“I need to go to the Nedcare hospital in Polokwane. Lucy’s friend was taken there by the Air Medical Services helicopter,” I said, thinking that I need to move. I need to be in two places at the same time.

“How’s that one? Must be not good if they have flown her to Polokwane?”

“I really don’t know. All I know is that she was apparently in serious condition and flown by AMS to Polokwane. Possible neck and spinal injuries. She took a head-on strike on her side of the car,” I said.

“Emma!” Dad calling my mother. “We need to get to town. Now! Okay, son, we’re on our way. See you tonight. We will get L1 and you see to L2.” Chuckle. “And son, take care.”

“Will do Dad, see you tonight,” I said and broke the connection.

“Okay, let’s go,” I said. Mai-Loan was up and on her way to Don’s helicopter.

“Buddy, we pray for the best,” Don said to me, reaching out and placing his hand on my shoulder. “Come, let’s go!” I heard the start of the low whine as Mai-Loan fired the turbine in Don’s helicopter. The five-blade rotor started to turn slowly, picking up speed as the engine sound increased in pitch. Don and I moved, instinctively ducking the spinning rotors. The MD530 is high off the ground; no need to duck for the rotors, but hey, instinct is instinct.

In the back-seat of the chopper I placed the headset on my head, and plugged it into the audio outlet. Next I buckled the harness and seat belt.

“Here’s the plan,” Don’s voice came in my ears. “We fly to Polokwane, drop you on the hospital pad and vacate the scene, fly to FAPP and land. Rent a car and come to you. Okay?”

“Roger that,” I said.

“Roger. After you find out about Lisa, we can make further plans to recover Lucy. Got it, Johnny-Boy?” Mai-Loan said, looking over her shoulder at me with a smirk on her face.

“Shot! Got it,” I said. Don lifted off. We were on our way. Polokwane, due south in the distance, fifty minutes to one hour ten minutes away. About halfway there, we will fly past Louis Trichardt, about fifty kilometres to the east, but our priority now is to reach Lisa.

Don flew at 5500 ft AGL. The tan coloured countryside slipped by at 130 KIAS. (240 km/h or 150 mph.) Still, it felt slow to me.

Far out in the distant blue-grey hue on the horizon, the smoggy presence of the Polokwane industries could just be seen drawing closer by the minute, but far too slow for me. I thought of Lisa. Will she be awake? Will she know that we would be there? I was told that she never regained consciousness. How was I to know that when the two left, it could have been the last time I would ever speak to her? In my mind’s eye I saw her shy smile, the flickering light in those muddy brown eyes. I heard her girlie giggle. Would she be okay? Or am I just going there to say goodbye?

“NO! Where there’s life, there’s hope. Lisa will be okay. As if Mai-Loan could read my mind, she spoke, her voice far off through the static over the intercom:

“She’ll be okay, Dave. Let’s wait until we see her before we jump to conclusions. AND stop biting your nails! It’s irritating.” I jumped. I did not know I was subconsciously biting my nails, something I’ve done before when I’m nervous or agitated. Don looked over his shoulder.

“Unfortunately, we don’t serve whiskey on these sub-economic flights,” he said and grinned.

“Also, you forgot to switch off the no-smoking sign! And the hostess hasn’t even come around yet,” I said. “I’ll never fly this rattle trap, cheapskate airline again.”

“Sorry for the inconvenience, but the hostess is currently flying,” Don said.

“SEE! Can’t even trust the pilot to do his job!” I chuckled, the tension relieved. Don and Mai-Loan at their best, trying to put me at ease.

The countryside slipped past as I was looking out the side window. Some green was to be seen as the Limpopo province landscape changed to the semi dry bushveld in the middle of the province. Out to the east I could just make out Louis Trichardt, now called Makhado, out on the edge of the Great Central South African Plateau. Just before the 1000-metre sheer cliff drop of the escarpment to the lowveld. The town, also known, by its traditional Venda name of “Tshirululuni” or more informally as “Tshitandani.” All of a sudden, I remembered I didn’t take my malaria pills. I should stay out of the reach of those darn mosquitoes.

I also forgot my painkillers again, although my leg felt very much better. No pain. I must ask Lisa what that foul smelling brown goo was she that rubbed into the wound. Lisa! Again, my mind thought of Lisa, as if she was okay and just waiting for us with that perpetual silly shy smile of hers!

“There’s an ashtray in the bulkhead in front of you. Use it. Smoke a cigarette,” Don said. “At least you’ll stop fidgeting and keep the centre of balance in order.”

“I don’t smoke in the aircraft,” I said.

“Me neither, but this is a preventable medical emergency condition,” Don said.

“What preventable medical emergency condition?” I asked.

“The medical emergency created when you get the copter out of balance with your fidgeting, and Mai-Loan loses her cool and bashes you over the head with the fire extinguisher,” Don said. Mai-Loan interjected.

“Don’t worry Dave, I love animals!” Giggle. I kept quiet and concentrated on other things. The scenery for instance. The miles dragged by.

(A little while later. In the town of Louis Trichardt / Makhado.)

Lucy sat on the hospital bed, half laying back onto the pillows. She began to feel a stiffness develop in her body. Her arms and legs, stained yellow with disinfecting goo, felt like dead cinder blocks. She had a big plaster on her right knee. One plaster on her left cheek, half under her eye. The nurse said her eye will turn blue. She felt with her fingers the swelling on the eye. It felt rubbery to her touch. All over her arms and legs she had scrapes that burned like fire.

Lucy’s hair was loose. Somewhere along the line, she lost the little hair-band she used to tie her ponytail. Somehow, she dislocated her right shoulder. The doctor fixed it, but now she had her right arm in a sling, tied to the top and behind her neck. She felt awful.

Lucy remembered when the doctor pushed her shoulder back in place, the pain was excruciating. She nearly wet herself. Luckily, the pain subsided after the deed was done. Yet the dull throbbing was still there. They gave her an injection to help the pain, and it seemed like it’s only starting to kick in now.

Lucy felt lonely and miserable; more miserable than when she was running the streets. She longed for Dave; Dave will come. He will come get her. She felt like crying, then she thought about Lisa.

They’ve taken Lisa to another hospital. Why did Lisa not wake up? Again, Lucy saw the moment Lisa closed her eyes. Lucy thought Lisa was dead. She was so pale and white-faced; her lips were blue and there was blood on Lisa’s face.

Lucy cried. Tears started to stream down her face. She sat up and tried to stop crying, but the tears kept on coming. Sobs ripped through her body. Lisa, Dave, Lisa ... Dave, where are you?

That was the scene that greeted Paul Granger as he and Emma Granger entered the hospital room. He saw the little blond girl sitting on the hospital bed, looking like she went through a mincing machine. Arm in a sling, swollen up eye. AND she was crying. No child should cry.

Emma, sensing her husband’s discomfort, moved to the girl and took her in her arms. Slowly, softly, so as not to add to her discomfort and pain.

“Lucy?” Emma asked. Lucy just kept on crying. Emma started to stroke Lucy’s hair.

“Lucy girl, calm down. We’re here to help you,” Emma said softly. Lucy stopped crying, becoming aware that there was someone in the room. Not a nurse or a doctor. Lucy looked up at Emma, through tearful eyes.

“Who ... who’re you?” Lucy asked.

“I am Emma Granger, Dave’s mother,” Emma said. Lucy looked at her.

“You’re Dave’s mother? How ... I mean, you came to me?” Lucy said, looking at Emma, then Lucy became aware of Paul, standing slightly to the back.

“I’m Paul. Dave’s father, and yes, we came to see you and take you home with us. Dave will come to you, just as soon as he gets back from Polokwane,” Paul said. Lucy looked from Emma to Paul and back at Emma.

“You came to me...” Lucy said disbelievingly. “Why?”

“Because you need us. We’re here for you...” Emma said.

“Thank you. Oh, thank you!” Lucy said.

“Come, child,” Emma said, “The nursing staff says you’re okay and can go home. You’re going to go home with us. Dave will come for you. Fear not.” Lucy tried to get off the bed, but lost her balance. Paul grabbed hold of her and steadied her. Lucy got her balance back, and smiled at Paul.

“Thank you. Another fall would have been not so good.” Giggle.

“Seems like she’s gonna be okay. Pa, you can let go of her now.” Emma said smiling.

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go. Fresh air will do her good,” Paul said. The three of them walked out of the room.

“You didn’t have anything with you, did you, Lucy?” Emma asked.

“No. All my stuff is still in Lisa’s bakkie,” Lucy said.

“Then we’ll stop at the panel shop where they took your friend’s bakkie; there’s only one in town. We’ll get all of your personal belongings and the other girl’s stuff too,” Paul said, leading the way out the hospital.

(Nedcare Hospital, Polokwane, Limpopo Province.)

The nurse let me into the high care unit of the hospital. I hesitantly walked over to the bed the nurse indicated to me, where Lisa lay. There were eight beds in the ward, arranged in a semi-circle, with the nurses’ station in the middle.

It was deadly quiet and depressing in the ward. There was a nurse attending to two patients at a time. Checking monitors, taking temperatures, writing into files. I subconsciously counted six beds occupied.

I hardly recognised Lisa, was it not for the name-tag above her bed. She was very small looking, lying in the bed. There were different kinds of monitors connected to her: monitor probes on her fingers, and some going in under her hospital gown. She was as pale as the sheets and her eyes, closed and swollen. There was a big plaster type bandage and an oxygen mask on her face. The only indication that she was alive was the beep-beep sound coming from the monitor checking her heartbeat, respiration and blood pressure.