I Heart Beat (9 page)

GRUMMER'S “TO DO” list goes out the window. We've just finished Breakfast and people start arriving to wish her a very merry Christmas. They wish me one too.

Pastor Aitch arrives with Mr September and they bring Grummer half a dozen jars of quince jam from last year's crop. Grummer takes Mr September to the bottom of the garden so he can see the quince trees and say happy Christmas to Mrs September.

Pastor Aitch and I wander around the garden. She tells me to look the length and breadth of the garden and I see the quince orchard and the vegetable garden and the blank space in the middle, which still hasn't got Grummer's pond and rose garden.

“It's just like it was forty years ago. Karel did it. He kept his promise.” (She uses the word
belofte
for promise, but I get it.)

And then Pastor Aitch touches the guava tree with the markings
K and G Forever 1966
and tells me The Whole Story. Pastor Aitch tells the first half of the story in English and then when she gets excited she lapses into Afrikaans.

It's about a boy called Karel (aka Mr du Plooy) who loved a girl called Geraldine, who was the September daughter who lived in our garden. Then the troubles came and Geraldine left to go overseas and fight in the struggle against apartheid.

“And Karel promised her he would wait for her and she never came back,” I say. This story is going on too long and the sun's hot. I don't have my sunscreen (factor 50
⁺
) on and I'm poaching in my own sweat. I can feel a swarm of freckles descending.

Pastor Aitch says, “You are half right, Beatrice.” And I wonder which half of me is right.

She tells me: Karel waited and waited and Geraldine finally came back when the troubles were over. “She's done very well for herself,” Pastor Aitch says. “Got herself a husband who's a bigwig in the new parliament.”

Shame for you, Karel. What a loser!

“But look at the garden,” Pastor Aitch says. “If she ever comes for a visit she will see it exactly as it was when she and Karel were young and in love. He promised her nothing would change.”

I tell her I just have to get some sunscreen (factor 50
⁺
).

People don't stop arriving. Alan (with one el) and Greg arrive with presents for Grummer and me. Grummer gets a book called
Forbidden Love
and I get the full set of
The Chronicles of Narnia,
which I put with the
New Testament Stories
I got from Grummer (propping up my laptop).

Three bereaved-looking people from Grummer's singles prayer group arrive and I don't get their names 'cos I'm eating Mid-Morning Snack. One of them, a short guy with the saddest of all the three bereaved faces, gives Grummer a book called
Dealing with Loss
.

When he leaves, I look at what he's written on the front page. It says:
Dear Mavis, the hardest part of losing someone is letting go. Thank you for your prayers and support.
It's signed:
Your friend, David Davis-Davis
.

Then everyone leaves, and me and Grummer wait. And then we wait some more and while we're waiting Grummer extracts the soya and herb stuffing from the turkey. And then she rearranges the table again.

Grummer says we can't wait any more; otherwise I won't keep to The Schedule! So we decide to eat Christmas lunch without Mom.

“Where can she be? Her plane got in this morning. She should have been here hours ago,” Grummer says.

I text my two and only friends back home and ask them for their offerings. They come back with:

1.
Georgia Wellbeloved has been involved in a fatal car accident with Mr David Davis-Davis at the turn-off to Hermanus. She is DEAD.

2.
Georgia Wellbeloved has met someone on the plane and has eloped with Husband Number Six. She is on HONEYMOON.

I text them mine:
She's getting drunk in a bar
.

We finish lunch and She arrives. She's not alone. With her are her new best friends Tom and Candy. She met them when she stopped at the pubbingrill to get something to drink.

She says, “It's so bloody hot. I was so, so parched.”

Grummer says, “Oh no, Georgia, I'm so, so surprised at you.”

And I am so, so not surprised. I text my two and only friends back home:
I'm the winner!

Tom and Candy have brought me and Grummer presents. Grummer gets a “lovely bottle of bubbly” and I get a milkmaid ornament with a crack on the nose which had probably been on the discount shelf at Tom's Anteekee Shoppee for the last thirteen years.

Then Tom says they might as well open the bottle of bubbly and celebrate with Grummer. “Don't want you drinking alone now, do we?” he says (wink-wink).

Candy says they've been having the
most divine
time with Georgie (that's Mom). It was just
so lucky
they bumped into her at the pubbingrill. I don't think luck had anything to do with it.

Tom, Candy and Mom slaughter the bottle of bubbly over a packet of ciggies and then they leave for the pubbingrill to have “one for the road”.

Before She weaves off, Grummer takes her aside and they exchange words. Many words like “For heavensakes, Moo, give me a break. It's Christmas,” and “Yes, it is and you haven't seen her in more than three weeks. Please, Georgia, she's your daughter” — which I don't really listen to 'cos I'm having Mid-Afternoon Snack.

Grummer and me wash the dishes and Mr du Plooy arrives. He gives Grummer a book called
Indigenous Flora and Fauna of South Africa
. Grummer gives him a book called
The English Rose Garden
. They laugh and say “truce”.

“Karel and I are going to look at my garden and argue about the pond and the roses,” Grummer says. And I give Mr du Plooy a skeef look 'cos I know that he thinks it's Geraldine September's garden and he'll never make Grummer her rose garden and pond. But he can't see my narrowed eyes through my shades, so he misses it.

I wonder what Toffie's doing and if he's found the presents I left for him in the secret hole in the wall. I've given him my spare cellphone and a book called
The Idiot's Guide to Texting
and I've sent him a message in Toffie-text which says:
Dear Toffie, Bewrae Rioo Dweuil. He wlli gte yuo noe yad.
(Which means in ordinary text “Beware Rooi Duiwel. He will get you one day.”)
Your 1 and only friend, Beatrice Wellbeloved.

I SPEND BOXING Day morning scraping vomit off my bedroom carpet. I use the bottle opener I was going to give Her for Christmas to get at the bits of meat from the Prego roll she ate after her “one for the road” with Tom and Candy.

She appears at the door. “Aw, dolling. What can I say? There was something wrong with the Prego roll. I just couldn't keep it down,” she says.

I keep scraping and she stumbles off.

When I'm done I lie in the hammock between the quince trees, and me and Mrs September watch the video I made with my cellphone when She finally came home last night.

I've sent it to my two and only friends back home and they've come back with the following comments:

1.
Fantastic. Better than the movies. Put it on YouTube.

2.
She's lost weight. Don't they feed them in rehab?

The video goes like this:

Enter Georgia Wellbeloved. She spots Grummer sitting on the couch.

“Howzit, Moo. Where's the party?”

Grummer looks up from her knitting. “Sit down, Georgia. We have to talk.”

“Talk, Moo, talk. I've got all night. What's your beef with me this time?” Georgia Wellbeloved heads for the chair and tries to sit down. She slides down onto the floor.

“Georgia, my love, things can't go on like this. They really can't. Beatrice is a very sick little girl. You've got to pull yourself together, so that you can look after her. She needs your love and care.”

“Like you took care of me, hey, Moo? Like you and Pop loved me? Like I don't think so, Moo.”

Grummer gets up from the couch and sits down on the floor next to Georgia Wellbeloved. “Your father and I loved you very much. We showed you all the time that we loved you. We always wanted the best for you. I still do and I want the best for Beatrice.”

Georgia Wellbeloved shifts away from Grummer. “Pop always wanted the best for Pop. It was never about being the best for me. Or you. It was what Pop wanted, and what Pop wanted he always got. Admit it, Moo. Go on and admit it. He was a selfish, uptight old bully.”

Grummer shifts up closer to Georgia Wellbeloved. “He wanted for you what he could never have for himself. He thought he knew best what was good for you.”

“But I was never good enough for him, was I, Moo? Everything I did was never good enough. Never, never, never good enough.”

Grummer sighs. “You made choices that your father could not approve of, Georgia. But he still loved you, no matter what.”

Georgia Wellbeloved laughs and she lights a cigarette. Grummer winces and Georgia Wellbeloved blows smoke in her face. “Ja, Moo. Like he loved me when Bea was born and he said he wouldn't have me home. And when Paul and Winston left and he said I'd made my bed I had to lie in it. He always loved me, hey, Moo? Like tell me, when exactly did he really love me?”

Grummer shifts away from Georgia Wellbeloved, who's lighting another cigarette from the stompie. “Georgia, my love.
You
left
us
. We were always there, loving you and waiting for you to come back.”

Georgia Wellbeloved turns on Grummer and jabs her finger in the direction of her face over and over again. “Ja, and now Pop's gone. He wasn't there for you or me when he was alive and now he's dead. He's left you. Do you understand me, Moo? Pop's gone.”

Grummer starts ferreting around in her bra strap and gives up. “Yes, Georgia, I do understand. I know he's gone. He's left us both. I miss him more than I can bear, and I know you can't bear it either.”

Then Grummer gets up from the floor and says she's going to bed.

Georgia Wellbeloved smokes three more cigarettes and then the video clip ends 'cos she's wandering towards my bedroom and I had to stop filming from my spying spot at the door and jump into bed.

I text my two and only friends back home that the video was so totally yesterday.

My cellphone beeps and a message flashes on the screen. It says:
Roog Duiwel got both od us. She's had twims
.

I catch Toffie by the jetty. He shows me where Rooi Duiwel has her nest; there are two baby
duiwels
lying in the reeds. Toffie says that she's gone looking for food and we mustn't be near the nest when she comes back.

He says he has something else to show me and he takes out my (his) cellphone. He flips through some photos of Adore and him eating the fruit cake off a two-rand coin, and a couple of Mr Potato the plumber pulling Christmas crackers with Mrs Appel.

I say they're lovely (not) and Toffie says, “Ag, chillax man, Beat, I'm getting there.”

He finally gets there and shows me three photos of Dr Pete's Christmas blood-fest. There's a close-up of the biltong cutter with bits of beak and feathers. (Eeeeuuuuw!) Then there's a close-up of a row of dead hadedas and two baby hadedas. (No, shame, Toffie man, show someone who cares.)

“Look at their wings, Beat. They're the colour of sun on petrol,” he says.

I tell him I can't see colour through my shades.

Toffie says I must take off my shades.

I say I can't.

And then there's a shot in the distance of four black rubbish bags on the pavement. I tell Toffie at least Dr Pete's neat. If he didn't chop off the beaks the plastic would tear and there'd be rubbish all over the pavement. I give Dr Pete ten out of ten for neatness.

Toffie says he gives Dr Pete ten out of ten for evil.

“I'm stopping him tonight, Beat. I'm going there to get the gun and the bullets. He's going to be at the pubbingrill at half past seven tonight for the Boxing Day skop. Didn't your ouma tell you?”

Nope. Grummer's been a bit quiet today. The only time she said anything was when she offered Her some aspirin and told me to follow The Schedule!

“Your ouma's got a date with the killer tonight. While he's getting his jollies with your Grummer I'm going to be there by his house. And you can come too.”

I tell Toffie I'll see. He says I must see what he got me for Christmas. And he goes and swims with Rooi Duiwel. I open the place in the wall and I see an envelope and inside is his precious Penny Black from his stamp collection stuck onto a card. I read:

FIVE REASONS WHY I THINK BEATRICE WELLBELOVED IS COOL

Toffie's getting out of the water and he looks at me and I say I'll check him later.

Tonight.

DR PETE PICKS Grummer up for the pubbingrill skop at 5:25 p.m. GMT. He asks me if I've been sticking to The Schedule! I tell him he can trust me.

He tells me I can trust him to take good care of Grummer at the party. I tell him of course I trust him (not).

Mom's having a nap on her bed after the little lunch outing she had with Tom and Candy in the afternoon. She grunts at me when I leave and I give her a grunt back, which means “later”.

I grab my bike and meet Toffie in Dr Pete's street. It borders the village green next to the Catholic Church. There's no sign of Silas the albino monk, so I know I'm safe.

There's a notice outside Dr Pete's house which says:

Toffie whistles at me and we park our bikes behind the church.

Toffie's strategy is as follows: we get (break) into Dr Pete's house and we find the killing gun and bullets and we take (steal) them and chuck them in the rubbish dump in the road by Die Skema.

Toffie says he's glad I'm seeing things his way. I'm doing the right thing. I tell Toffie if we can break Dr Pete's filthy habit he still has a chance with Grummer. I tell him I'm still FOCUSED!

It's easy getting into Dr Pete's house. The back door is unlocked and even if he'd locked it, all the windows are wide open. Finding the gun's more difficult. We look around the kitchen, but there's not a lot more going for it than high-fibre bran and rolled oats. I check in the freezer, but Toffie says only gangsters hide their guns in the freezer. Dr Pete's not a gangster, just a killer.

We search the lounge. Dr Pete's got a really lame collection of DVDs. He's got
House
(the first five seasons ) and the full set of
Grey's Anatomy.
I tell Toffie I'll check out the study while he searches the bedrooms.

Dr Pete's computer's very interesting. There's a file on me called “Case Study: Beatrice Wellbeloved”.

Dr Pete diagnoses me as being underweight with the potential for developing an eating disorder. He describes me as controlling, untrusting, unable to display vulnerability, obsessive, manipulative, uncommunicative, a consummate liar, having a poor body image, anxious …

I see he hasn't got around to listing my bad points.

He says some of my problems could be the result of when I was locked inside a dark house without parental supervision one winter five years ago for four whole days without electricity. Shame. Poor little Beatrice Wellbeloved.

Dr Pete's been a very busy man. He's written 7,456 words all about me for a medical journal. (I did a word count.) I delete the file and erase all reference to Beatrice Wellbeloved from his hard drive.

I'm just about to subscribe him to half a dozen rogue websites, which will flood his inbox with toxic spam for at least three years, when Toffie comes into the study and says he's found the bullets. They were in a jar next to the popcorn seeds in the kitchen. He's holding the gun. It was in an unlocked cupboard in his bedroom (along with some share certificates for a pharmaceutical company).

I tell Toffie to hang onto the bullets and I take the gun. I tell him we must go now before Dr Pete comes home.

Toffie says there's plenty of time; the skop ends at midnight.

But it's only 7:00 p.m. GMT and Dr Pete's standing behind Toffie.

He says, “What the hell are you kids doing here?”

Mom appears behind him and says, “Aw, dolling. What can I say? There was something wrong with the floor.”

And Mr du Plooy's standing next to Her, and he's looking at me and the gun and he's saying, “Ag no, man, easy there, just take it easy there, my girl.”

I'm pointing the gun at Her and Dr Pete says, “Give me that, you crazy freak.” And he reaches for the gun. I pull away from him and the last thing I hear is the gun going off.

Boom-chakkalakka!

And the last thing I see before Dr Pete hits me on the side of my face with his right hand covered in 145 curly hairs is Toffie's face covered in blood.

And the last thing I feel is a chair smashing down next to me as Mr du Plooy takes out Dr Pete with a hairy left hook.

***

I wake up in the Hermanus Medi-Clinic six hours later and I can't say anything. My jaw's throbbing like a jackhammer and there's a tube in my nose.

Grummer's by my bed and she's talking to me all the time. When she's not talking, she's playing me classical music and when she turns it off she talks complete nonsense about Grandpa and her and me and Mom until she sees my eyes fluttering and then she talks to me like I'm a sort of sane person.

She tells me that she and Dr Pete were having a lovely time at the Boxing Day skop when Mom pitched up at the pubbingrill for one for the road. Then after Mom had taken more than one for the road she slipped and hit her head.

Mr du Plooy and Dr Pete took Mom to Dr Pete's house to fix her up when they found me and Toffie.

Toffie. I want to know about Toffie. Grummer says he's been moved from the operating theatre to intensive care and he's not receiving visitors. She says she just has to pop out to check on Dr Pete, who's having his nose X-rayed. He's probably going to have to get a new nose thanks to Mr du Plooy.

I don't ask about Her, but Grummer tells me anyway. She's passed out in the next ward, but Grummer's sure she'll come and see me when she wakes up. I can't wait (not).

I ask about Mr du Plooy, and Grummer tells me he's sitting in the police station, waiting for Dr Pete to drop a charge of grievous bodily harm against him.

Later, Grummer and Dr Pete come into my room and he says that when I'm stable enough to be moved, I'm going to a special hospital in Johannesburg where I'll get my jaw fixed and can be treated for my “various problems”. At least, I think that's what he said 'cos Dr Pete is speaking rather funny through his new nose, which looks like a wad of bandages.

I ask Dr Pete where he'll be going to be treated for his various problems. And Dr Pete laughs (I can see it hurt) and tells Grummer that I'm a fascinating little girl.

I want to know about Toffie, and Grummer says the bullet missed his eye, but there's still no news about any damage to his brain. I want to tell her that you can't damage what's not there — ha-ha — but my jaw hurts too much to talk.

That evening Mrs Appel pops in to see me. I pretend I'm asleep, but she sits by my bed and talks to me anyway. Like she knows I'm listening. She says that Toffie's being moved to a hospital in Cape Town where they have some big-shot brain doctors. She says all she can do is hope.

Before I go to sleep I ask the nurse who comes in to give me a painkiller and she says there's no news. And I ask the doctor, who's like twenty-five years old and I hope Grummer doesn't meet him 'cos he's such a loser, and he says there's no news. And the doctor says that while there's no news it's good news.

And when I'm transferred from the Hermanus Medi-Clinic three days later, everyone says that they're still waiting for news about Toffie.