Chapter 8

It was a little unsettling to walk into the kitchen the next morning and get immediately attacked by my sister. Madeline, my little sister, was sitting at the kitchen table munching on a slice of marmalade toast, a cup of coffee at her side.

“Why does this poor child not have proper clothes to wear?” Were Maddie’s first words. She obviously stopped by on her way to town. She and her husband live about five kilometres on, farming vegetables.

“Good morning to you too, my dearest sister. It’s good to see you too,” I said. My mom and dad just sat quietly, knowing that the exchange was something as per usual. Both Maddie and I would fly off at one another, soon to be forgotten moments later. We love each other to bits, but don’t show it openly. Normal brother-sister interaction, you know. I stepped over to her and gave her a peck on the cheek.

Lucy, dressed in her bush togs, smiled at me, her blue eyes reflecting her smile. Okay, one eye was still a little swollen and turning purple.

“Morning everyone,” I greeted all around the table, giving Lucy a squeeze on her left shoulder. She purred like a kitten. “And what do you mean by, proper clothes?”

“Well, at least a nice dress and shoes would have been good,” Maddie said.

“So, what’s wrong with the clothes she’s got on? I think she looks stunning,” I said. Lucy blushed, but smiled. “Besides, she’s dressed just right for the farm. The defence, rests its case.” My dad smiled; he knows that I always seem to win arguments with Maddie ... gives him sort of, a warm feeling. Not that he did not love Maddie, it’s a matter of ‘we males must stick together. Love the girls, but don’t let them walk all over you.’

“Come, Dave, sit down. I’ll get you some breakfast,” Mom said to me. “Have you slept well?”

“Yes. I slept well and it looks like I sort of overslept,” I said. “Seems like I’m not the only one. Where’re our guests?”

“Oh, they’re up and about,” dad said. “Went over to the stables to look at the horses. Don seems to know about horses, and offered to do the morning feed.”

“He has a couple of his own,” I said, sitting down across from Lucy. “His wife, Laura, runs her own riding school.”

“Oh, I thought he’s lovey-dovey with the Vietnamese girl, Mai-Loan,” Mom said, dishing up a plate of sausage, scrambled eggs, and toast for me. I laughed.

“Not what you think. It might look that way, but she stays with Don, Laura and Tracy. It’s like a family business. Laura runs the riding school; Tracy chicken farms and Mai-Loan raises cattle. Don, he just flies his toys,” I said, taking my breakfast plate from my mom.

“Who’s Tracy?” mom asked.

“Don’s adopted daughter. She’ll turn fifteen in June,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee. I felt someone’s toes running up my leg, under the table. I looked across at Lucy. She was smiling, innocently looking down at her plate of breakfast, that blond hair obscuring half her face.

Little rascal! Encouraging Lisa on the one hand, and flirting with me on the other. I suddenly thought of Don and his three wives.

“That little girl raises cattle?” dad asked, a frown on his face.

“Ask her. She’ll tell you all about it.” I said, forking some toast and egg into my mouth, looking over at Lucy. Lucy was hiding her face behind the coffee mug, making pouting lips at me, eyes flashing a naughty glint.

“You all live funny lives there in Gauteng. Ain’t the girls, this Tracy, and Miss-I-rescue-elephants, here need to be in school?” Maddie asked.

“Of-course they do,” I said. “Ever heard of home-schooling?” Maddie’s eyes went wide. While Maddie was off guard, I continued my little white lie:

“You must have a look at the curriculum they follow,” I said. “I don’t think I’d make it. Maths, English high level, Afrikaans high level, natural science, social science, technology, creative arts, business studies, accounting, economics, and life-skills.” Maddie’s mouth fell open; I thought I heard her jaw hit the table.

“Yeah!” Came Don’s voice from the kitchen door. “Tracy’s fourteen and equivalent to standard nine, or these days, grade eleven. Got an IQ north of one forty!”

“What?” Maddie asked. “How’s that happen?”

“Easy. Ask her to do you a root of a negative number. You’ll see she’s no slouch. Got me stunned the first time around, explaining to me Bernoulli’s principle of flight in detail,” Don said and delivered another knock-out. “Flies their salvaged Cessna too, not licensed yet, but flies the Cessna, thanks to Mai-Loan”

“Their Cessna?” Maddie asked.

“Yip. Laura, Tracy and Mai-Loan found an old-abandoned Cessna sitting in a dark corner of a hangar. Washed and polished it. I had it checked out for airworthiness. “ Don said. “So, Mai-Loan took the girls for lessons. Laura gets her PPL (private pilot’s license) shortly but Tracy, poor Tracy, must wait until she’s sixteen to get a student licence. Freaks her out. Every time she wants to fly, Mai-Loan must be there with her.”

“She’s FOURTEEN. For ducks fake!” Maddie said. “Sorry Dad, Mom.”

“You drove the tractor into the ditch when you were eleven.” Dad said.

“And my bottom burned for a week!” Maddie said, blushing.

“She’s fourteen and way ahead of me!” Lucy said, picking up on my fib. “I’m sixteen and only in grade ten.”

“Wait!” Maddie exclaimed. “You, in grade ten. That’s like standard eight. You’re supposed to be in grade nine, That’s standard seven in my time.”

“Lucy, what’s your IQ?” Don asked.

“Is it that important?” Lucy countered. “Look at Lisa, she matriculated at sixteen! Did TWO degrees and became a doctor at twenty-six. I’m behind.” All of us around the huge family kitchen table fell silent. Mai-Loan, having said nothing at this stage, got up and went over to Lucy. Mai-Loan hugged her.

“You’re not behind, Lucy. You’re way ahead of me. I don’t even have a high school diploma,” Mai-Loan said. “Only my military training.” Lucy looked up to Mai-Loan, her eyes wet. A smile forming on her lips. “And I’ll teach you to fly too.”

“Thank you, Sister. You make me feel good,” Lucy said. I think a bond was forming between Lucy and Mai-Loan. Lucy and Lisa were already like glue together. I think here’s another bond being formed. If Lucy and Lisa and Don’s girls were to get together, I think a new galaxy would be born, a galaxy that would eclipse the milky way.

Thus, started a week of doing the headless chicken dance. Don and Mai-Loan went back to Kwela Camp; It was Don’s charter in the first place. So, with my leg injury, I opted to stand down a bit.

To be near Lisa, both Lucy and I booked into a guest house in Polokwane. The bird, was safely hangared at the local Polokwane Airport. I rented a car for our transport between the guest house and the hospital, and I made sure that I get Lucy her own room. Not that it mattered to her. She spends most of the time when not at the hospital with Lisa, with me in my room. She watches TV, reads, and just about sleeps there. At least I get to shoo her out to her own room at night.

Lisa showed a remarkable recovery. Although still immobile due to her broken leg and dependency on oxygen, she sat up and was as chirpy as the situation warranted.

Hospital food. Yeah, you know, not the most tasteful at any given time. Lisa, treated by Lucy and me to some funny stuff. Who would have thought that Lisa had a liking for sushi? Not me, seeing as she was a sort of country girl. She insisted that I get chopsticks, which turned out to be an exercise in precision for Lucy. Bits of food went flying until she developed a sort of coordination between fingers, chopsticks, and mouth. This was all very amusing to the nurse on duty. As a rule, we were not allowed to bring food into the high care unit, but bribing the nursing staff with food ... yeah, that’s the trick.

The sushi excursion went off with a lot of giggles, laughter, and some words I’m not allowed to say here. Lisa was becoming more and more flexible and guided Lucy in mastering the art of eating sushi with chopsticks. The occasional bonbon and cream doughnut got slipped in as well.

This went on for about four days. We, Lucy and me, slipping food to Lisa. Then one day we, Lucy and I had the shock of our lives: No Lisa. Her bed was made up to clinical standards. All monitors and hospital equipment were switched off and standing silently at the back of the bed, waiting.

“We moved her. She’s gone on to a normal ward.” Marissa said, as she came over from the nurse’s station. “Come, I’ll take you to her new ward.”

Lucy and I followed Marissa out the door and down a myriad of passages to Lisa’s new location, all the while smelling that typical stale disinfectant laced smell, so well-known in hospitals.

A smiling Lisa greeted us as we entered her new private ward. She was sitting up in a chair next to a large window. The sun was filtering through the lace curtains, casting a glow over Lisa.

“I saw you parking that little sub-compact cheapskate called a car! So, how’s my friends today? Surprised?” Lisa asked as she got pecks on her cheeks from us.

“Wow girl! You look good.” Lucy said.

“Yip, like a five Rand coin. A little tarnished on the edges, but shiny in the middle,” I said.

“You haven’t seen my middle.” Giggle. Lisa replied. “Yet...”

“Yes, our girl is getting better. I missed that giggle,” I said.

“The doc said that I can start to walk a bit tomorrow, with crutches!” Lisa said, pulling a face.

“How’s that gonna work, I mean ain’t your shoulder still painful?” Lucy asked.

“Nope! A little bruised, but not sore. By the way, Lucy, how’s YOUR shoulder?” Lisa asked.

“Oh, much better. A little stiff at the top, so I still can’t whack Dave with my hand.” Giggle. “But I can use the other one to whack him with, just can’t get it up to the same speed as the right arm.” We all laughed.

“Why should I get whacked?” I asked Lucy.

“Because you didn’t bring Lisa flowers!” Lucy said. Lisa giggled.

“Shame, Lucy. He didn’t know I was moved.” Lisa said, looking at me with a naughty glint in her eyes. We were not allowed to bring flowers to the high care unit. “But you know what he can do to rectify the problem?” “What?” I asked, Lucy giggled.

“It’s such a lovely day. Let’s get a wheelchair and you can take me out to the garden. There are all kinds of flowers there...” Lisa said.

“I’ll be back.” I said, moving towards the door, while looking back at Lisa.

“Can you say it in a Schwarzenegger voice?” Giggle. Lisa asked. Lucy just laughed, tenderly hugging Lisa, to not hurt her. Both were looking at me with smiling faces ... two mischievous smiles, that is. Thick as thieves, the two of them. One sixteen, one twenty-seven, both full of mischief, like little schoolgirls. How do I choose? I think I am in love with them both.

(Indian Ocean, near the Timor Islands, about 900 sea miles to the west.)

The captain of the Japanese cargo ship stood out on the port-side wing of the bridge. The wind from the north was whipping at his great coat, blowing the bottom of the coat against his legs.

The wind was picking up in strength, gusting to 20 knots. The wind is warm on his exposed face with no icy bite to it. He knew it spelled nothing good. The glass was still dropping. He knew that if it bottoms out and then starts to sharply rise they were going to be in for a hell of a ride.

The captain suspects that a tropical cyclone is in the making. Between November and April the south Indian Ocean produces some four to five heavy cyclones. The Agulhas Current is a western boundary current, but being in the Southern Hemisphere, it brings warm water south along the east coast of Africa. The Agulhas Current runs close to the shore along the continental shelf and can build up to speeds of 5 knots. It is generally not very wide, usually less than 80 kilometres. This river of warm water meets up with the cold conditions of the southern Indian Ocean, and adds energy to developing storms.

Southern Ocean cold fronts move along the coast of South Africa from the south. Fuelled by warm water, these fronts will often interact with low pressure systems, intensifying the front and spawning secondary low-pressure systems. Behind these cold fronts are gale force south-south-westerly winds, adding in a south-bound current and wind over the current. These conditions can quickly become very dangerous, forming tropical storms and even cyclones spinning clockwise around the eye of the storm, due to the Coriolis effect.

Knowing that these cyclones generally move west and west south-west, the captain felt a little better. These tropical storms and cyclones can pass further north of the ship’s course, but he’d better stay vigilant. Cyclones can’t be dictated what to do. Better to prepare oneself and lay off the vodka a bit.

The captain looked up to the top off the bridge, at the array of antennas attached to the stubby mast. The weather radar dish was spinning lazily around on its base, sending invisible energy beams out and probing the formation of clouds on the horizon. Those clouds were to the south; the sky overhead was still clear.

He turned away from the gusting wind, covering his hands beneath the big lapels of his great coat. He lit his pipe, puffing until the bowl of the pipe was glowing and warming his hands.

The captain then took a deep draw on the pipe, inhaling the sweet tobacco smoke deep into his lungs. He blew out and the smoke was whipped instantly away in the wind. He was not a religious man, but he prayed.

High overhead, way high overhead, a satellite sped past on its north-easterly course around the globe. The high-resolution cameras on board the satellite recorded the position of the ship. In three days, the satellite will revisit this position and compare the previous position of the ship with this current location, working out its course and speed.

The satellite will then calculate the next possible location of the ship, cross-referencing with a weak radio signal, then repeat the photographing process at the new location. Silently tracking the progress of the ship and its cargo. Big brother, the eye in the sky, was silently watching and sending its data back to base.

(Back at the Polokwane hospital.)

“Push me over to the shade by that big oak tree.” Lisa said. The going was a little tough over the grass lawn, especially with the one small front wheel of the wheelchair sticking on its axle, but we reached the spot.

“Oh look! Carnations. I love carnations.” Lisa said. I looked around me. No one in sight. I bend over and picked a carnation from the bush. There were plenty, the gardener would not miss one ... okay, maybe two. I handed one to Lisa and one to Lucy.

“There, flowers for my favourite girls,” I said.

“Thank you, Dave.” Lisa said and put the flower up to her nose. Closing her eyes, she smelled the aroma.

Yes, Dave. Thank you.” Lucy said. “But who’s your favourite, favourite girl. Hmm?”

“You both.” I said and sat down on the grass in the shady spot. Lisa sat a bit forward in the wheelchair, turning the stem of the flower around and around in her hands.

“Then you’re in for an expensive time. I mean, two times flowers. Two times chocolates. Everything, two times.” Lisa said, looking sideways at me, brushing her hair behind her ear with the one hand. I saw streaks of red in her hair as the sunlight, filtering through the tree leaves, caught her head.

“So? Are you two gonna make me choose?” I said, picking a blade of grass off the lawn.

“Why should we? We love the attention.” Lucy said. “Besides, Lisa’s my sister!”

“You keep on collecting sisters. A few days ago, Mai-Loan was your sister, now you add Lisa as well,” I said.

“I don’t have a sister. I’ll just adopt Lucy as my sister...” Lisa said, looking out to the far side of the garden. Her face an emotionless mask. A far-off look in her eyes, still turning the carnation around in her fingers.

“They’re both my sisters. Big sisters. I’m the little sister.” Lucy said.

“Okay, I’ll be big brother then...” I said, hoping to not be in too much trouble.

“Big brothers are nasty and don’t tuck you in at night and give you goodnight kisses.” Lucy said.

“He tucks you in at night ... AND gives you goodnight kisses? I better get out of this...” Lisa began and then kept quiet, almost as if she were rethinking what she wanted to say.