B.B.U.S.A. (Buying Back the United States of America) (23 page)

Traykie hollered, “Hey! What are those?”

“Look, ostriches.” A large flock ran across the road. Joyce tried to count them but found it nearly impossible. She finally estimated that there were close to seventy of them. The ostriches were kicking up sand on the far side of the barren tar road. Their dusty gray, brown, and black feathers looked rumpled as they sped across the dry, harsh Namib Desert. Small tufts of yellow grass became dislodged as their long, gangly legs tore at the dry dirt under their big feet. They resembled giant Road Runners moving at top speed as if being pursued by Wile E. Coyote.

Chris seemed more alert and interested for the first time since they’d left the airport two hours earlier. As the car came to a halt the last few stragglers crossed the road and ran after the retreating flock. The trailing ostriches were young, smaller ones, desperately trying to keep up with the main group. “I’ve been here a long time and have only seen this big of a group one other time. I’ve been told they live up to sixty years, can you imagine that?”

Just then it became obvious why they were running so hard. Sarah yelled “Look!” A cheetah which had been stealthily slinking on his belly on the far side of a giant milk bush darted across the road with such speed that his spots blended into a flash of yellow, orange, and black. Within seconds one of the trailing young birds was tackled. Dust flew up as cat and bird tumbled over each other in the dirt. Amidst the dust, two other colors joined in the collage, white and red. The young bird did not have a chance. It gave a final twitch with one leg as the proud cheetah carried it back behind the screen of milk bush. The remaining ostriches were just a dust cloud off in the shimmering distance to the right of the road.

Chris uttered his first positive word, “Wow.”

Grandma confirmed it. “That was a sight put on especially for you. It is not one that you would likely see again. As a matter of fact that is only the third wild cheetah I have ever seen. Don’t expect to see a hunting cheetah during the day again. He must have been very hungry.”

Chris was good for the rest of the trip. They talked about the scenery mostly. Everyone wanted to know why things in the distance seemed to shake and shimmer as they couldn’t see things clearly. Joyce explained that the heat rising from the ground sometimes gave the distance that shimmering affect. The terrain had changed several times from sparse grasslands to sandy ground with desolate occasional thorn trees, to rocky outcroppings with fat trees and milk bushes to dry salt pans. The heat created illusions. Mirages were evident for miles. The kids were certain that they could see the ocean.

In one such mirage the kids witnessed five lonely gemsbok miraculously emerge as the car moved in their direction. The gemsbok were walking through a dry salt pan with sparse tufts of yellow grass. They appeared to be shimmering in and out of focus as their brown, black, and white frames seemed to be sloshing through knee deep water. Their two-and-a-half-foot long black antlers spiraled backwards, in small tight curls at 45 degree angles over their neck and back, as they trekked slowly across the desert in search of food and water. Their white legs looked like they were wearing special knee-high boots in order to trudge through the mirage of water. They were gorgeous, almost magical-looking. Their size seemed comparable to the American elk, though Traykie thought that they were far more beautiful.

Later they saw a herd of springbuck that resembled American pronghorn. As Chris was beginning to ask why they were called “Springbuck”, it became evident, as one frisky male decided to show off. The young buck tucked his head down into his neck and chest and then hunched his back up like a scared cat and began to hop on all four legs. The hops were unreal. Each hop propelled the young buck higher in the air. It was remarkable how much distance would be covered by one such leap. The springbuck could easily clear the car with just one leap.

Soon two other springbuck began pronking and leaping through the air. Others quickly attached their springs and joined in on the frolicking. Since the terrain had once again changed to mostly thigh-high grasslands, the sight was fantastic. More than a dozen springbuck were leaping through the air trying to out-jump each other. They would virtually disappear in the high grasses and then leap way up in the air. They seemed to totally defy gravity, almost flying through the air, floating above the ground with hooves above the high grass, and then they would drop down on one of the many hidden trampolines to bound back up in the sky.

Sarah was intrigued with the performance and enjoyed seeing the surprised expressions on her boys’ faces.

Traykie blurted, “No way! How do they do that? Our antelope don’t do anything like that at all!”

Joyce answered, “I guess you now see why they are called Springbuck.”

When they stopped at a wayside picnic area with a single outhouse, they were able to inspect a Welwitschia plant firsthand. Joyce, the self-proclaimed tourist guide, explained the plant was first discovered by an early pioneer named Friedreich Welwitsch in 1859. Being one of the oldest known living plants, it had baffled scientist because it lived primarily in the driest terrain known to man. The long, rustic-looking, greenish-gray leaves stretched out like parts of rubber tires strewn along American freeways. The plant had peculiar red flowers. Sarah too, was in awe as to how the plant could survive in the heart of the dry Namib Desert without any visible signs of water.

Joyce explained that they were now protected and they shouldn’t be touched or bothered in any way. “It can’t be transplanted,” she relayed. “Whenever anyone tried to transplant one it died. Maybe it takes four hundred years before they come up – who knows? It could be that something someone planted would come up in a couple of hundred years if it was left alone. Something that lives two thousand years could take a long time to germinate. Our lives are too short to know for sure.”

“Why would anyone want to transplant it anyway?” asked Chris. “They aren’t pretty at all and I wouldn’t want anything that looks like that in my yard!”

“Well, because of their age and their rarity, they would be very valuable.” Joyce explained. “Sometimes a house needs to be built where one stands, or there are some in the way of a road or railroad right of way. They have tried to transplant them, and of course many people try just to have the novelty of one in their garden, but it just hasn’t ever been successful. It seems terribly wrong to disturb something that old when you know it would destroy it. I can’t understand people trying to do that just in the wild hope they might make some money.”

That made sense to Traykie. He looked at it but kept at a respectful distance.

Chris wasn’t convinced. “I’ll bet I could get one to live. All you have to do is dig a big enough hole around it so it stays in its own dirt. I’ll bet I could do it.”

Sarah let out a longsuffering sigh. “Christopher Ryan, you just touch one finger anywhere near that Welwitschia plant or any other while we are here, and I guarantee you, you will seriously regret your experiment.”

“Chris, they have huge fines in this country for anyone that tries to dig up or harm a Welwitschia. There aren’t that many of them left. Goodness, if you planted a seed right now it might not even germinate in your whole life time and when you died you wouldn’t even know if it was going to come up or not.” Joyce had a healthy respect for these strange plants and she certainly didn’t want her grandson to harm one.

Joyce shook her head and rolled her eyes. Chris was quiet and that worried Sarah. She certainly hoped he wasn’t seeing dollar signs and thinking of something stupid. Chris seemed to think he was exempt from all the normal rules of nature and man. He never thought he could get hurt, fall from a tree, fall over the ledge, or that he had to follow any rules he ever encountered.

She was relieved when they all got back in the car and headed due west towards the coast. The temperature became noticeably cooler, and Joyce turned the air conditioner off and they rolled down their windows. The country side had changed again, to small rolling sand dunes.

Grandma pointed to a distant town along the coast and said, “We’re almost home.”

A gentle fog bank trailed lightly over the town. Southeast of the houses, giant sand dunes could be seen dominating the southern horizon. As they entered the sleepy little resort village of Swakopmund, Sarah noticed that the same old-style German architecture was prominent. The evening sun, hanging low over the Atlantic Ocean was dimmed, as it was partially obscured by the heavier fog bank off the coast.

As they turned down Steckel Street, Sarah recognized Joyce’s business from pictures she had seen. It looked bigger and more impressive than she had imagined or remembered from the pictures. The main building was a light, peach-colored two-story stucco building with three covered balconies on the second floor. The trim was painted brown on the second floor balconies and around the windows and the roof line. Though the four large windows on the bottom level were trimmed in bright white, it did not look odd. As a matter of fact, it seemed to add character to the old building.

A typical European-style sign protruded from above the main entrance. The gold lettering was already illumined by the night lights. Fine droplets of mist created a halo effect around the front light, circling the golden J’s on the sign. Under the two J’s, was the word RESTAURANT in bold letters. Although Joyce had bought her partner, Joan, out of her half of the business some years ago, she never changed the name. People were used to J.J.’s Restaurant and Boarding House. Even though the curtains were drawn inside, bright, warm light glowed welcomingly from the dining room windows. Several vehicles were parked on both sides of the street in front of the business.

Joyce pulled into what seemed like a little alley between the Restaurant and what appeared to be a deep row of connected apartments. She explained that they had six apartments and nine rooms with the Restaurant. The alley opened up to a large internal courtyard, with parking for the apartments and a small garden area totally enclosed by the six surrounding apartments. It reminded Sarah of the old American forts. All of the apartments were connected by a ten foot high stucco wall that spanned the entire perimeter of the property. In between the apartments were laundry facilities, clothes lines, parking, and an area which held eight large garbage cans in a small fenced-in enclosure.

They unloaded the car and Joyce took the boys and Sarah to their quarters. “I thought you’d all be more comfortable in your own apartment,” she said as she unlocked a door just off the courtyard. She showed them their two-bedroom apartment with its own kitchen, living room and bathroom. Joyce told the boys to consider themselves lucky to have the apartment with its own bathroom because all the upstairs rooms had to share two bathrooms, one located at either end of the long upstairs hallway.

Chris was delighted to see bunk beds in their bedroom and immediately spoke up, “I dub top bunk!”

Joyce said that she would leave them to unpack and freshen up, and when they were finished she would introduce them to her staff and after a quick tour of the rest of the place, they could have supper together in the restaurant. Sarah thanked Joyce profusely for the hospitality and assured her they wouldn‘t be long.

When she and the boys locked up the apartment and went into the courtyard, it was completely dark. The mist in the air was cool and damp. They were very surprised that it almost felt a little nippy. They entered the restaurant through a side entrance. On their right was a flight of stairs that led to the nine rooms on the second floor and to their left was the entrance to the main dining room. They entered the huge room with its fourteen foot ceilings. Approximately twenty free standing tables were set for patrons.

Joyce, who had been seating some guests, returned from the second dining room. “Great, you found your way in. Come on back here; I want to introduce you to our chef and my manager, as well as all the fine help that makes this a thriving business.” They were introduced to seven employees as well as the chef and manager.

Sarah instantly liked the manager. She was genuinely sweet, caring, and interested in meeting her and the boys. Her name was Ursula. Joyce commented that without Ursula, she would not be nearly as successful. Sarah and the kids walked through the three dining rooms. The other two were smaller, more formally attired, and used primarily for evening guests. The first large dining room, or day room, as they called it, was light and bright and occupied primarily by guests staying at the boarding house or living in the apartments.

There was another giant room behind the dining rooms which served as a lounge for the guests. Joyce commented that the TV was new, as the country had only had the luxury of TV for a couple of decades and that when Leo was a small boy they hadn’t had TV anywhere in the country. The boys found it hard to believe that a country could be that backward since it seemed like America had had TV forever.

The lounge was nearly the size of a basketball court and Joyce’s office was located at the near side of the lounge. Next to the office was another small internal courtyard where they occasionally barbecued or held a braai, as they called it, for the people living in the boarding house and apartments. On the far side of the courtyard was Joyce’s apartment. She had chosen that apartment because the rear entrance opened to the courtyard, which in turn had a door to the back of the kitchen as well as the lounge so she could come and go without ever leaving the main complex.