The Disappeared (8 page)

Lindiwe walked
briskly. The soles of her leather sandals tapped an anxious rhythm on the rough
tar of Marula Street. She walked past the auto-shop owned by Mr McIntyre and
then turned the corner. She cut a quick shortcut through the old Shell filling
station – also owned by him. As she crossed the cracked and oil-stained
concrete she noticed the premises were empty but gave no thought to it. There
were much bigger things on her mind.

 The sun was
already up but lay shrouded behind the thick cloud cover. There was a pallid
grey hue that clung to everything. The pretty main street of Bishop, usually beautiful
and alive with colour, now appeared dull and lifeless.
Like a patient.
Lindiwe
thought as she walked along the deserted street.
Like a patient etherised
upon a table

Tap. Tap.

Her footsteps
pierced the empty silence and bounced back at her as if from a great distance. They
were sharp little cracks in the face of the grey silence; little needles that
stuck in her ears. She stopped. Main Street – Bishop – looked different today.
She didn’t know how or why, but it looked different. It wasn’t that it was
quiet. This time of day only a very few residents of Bishop were active anyway.
No. It wasn’t that. It
actually
looked different. Lindiwe looked up at
the sky. The thick grey clouds looked static and frozen in place as if they
were actually hewn out of the sky.
Not surprising
Lindiwe thought. There
wasn’t even the hint of a breeze in the air.

The disquiet
Lindiwe had woken up with had by now bloomed into a big black toxic flower. Since
discovering that
gogo
had – apparently – disappeared Lindiwe had done
well to keep her anxiety from erupting into blind panic. She swallowed a big
lungful of air.
There had to be an explanation. Just relax.
She would go
to the police. Tell Inspector Coetzee what had happened and take it from there.
It would all turn out to be a big misunderstanding. A silly joke they would
laugh about for years to come. Nothing more. Things like this happen all the
time. Like snakes with two heads and ...

Something caught
her eye. She turned slowly. In the pit of her stomach there was an explosion of
sharp anxiety mixed with dizzy excitement. It was a feeling she could never
forget no matter how she tried. A feeling that belonged to one thing only.

Lindiwe was
standing in front of Bishop’s only bottle store. It was called
Western
Cellars
– a national franchise. To reinforce the idea of a real cellar, two
halves of a wine cask had been fastened on either side of the bright yellow
signage. Artificial wood was arranged around the display window and ivy was
painted all along its borders. The display window itself was painted with a
scene depicting the interior of
ye olde
wine cellar – a winemaker was
standing on a cobblestone floor amongst rows of dark wooden casks stacked under
an arched roof. He held up a glass of wine to the light, studying it intensely.

But this was
not what had caught Lindiwe’s attention. At the bottom of the display was a
section of the window that was clear and unpainted. This was where tabloid
spreads – advertising the latest specials – were pasted. The ‘hero’ of this
particular tabloid spread was a bottle of
Portcullis
Brandy.
Old
Cullies
as Sizwe used to call it.
Good ole Cullies.
Cheap. Nasty. And
very effective.

In the first
few weeks of her recovery, Lindiwe had seen the bottle a thousand times in her
mind; had smelt the sharp acrid aroma of its contents countless more. But since
then the square outline of the bottle with its black label had mercifully
disappeared from her thoughts and faded from memory.

Now the magnified
image of the brandy bottle made her stomach turn. But it wasn’t fear or dread.
Lindiwe knew that feeling too well. It wasn’t revulsion or disgust either. No.
This was something else. As Lindiwe stood before the poster with its gawky
yellow and green design she felt a naked primordial excitement. The excitement
of the junkie who’s just about to score. The excitement of the addict who has
once again – beyond all expectations – managed to evade withdrawals. It was the
raw ecstasy of the slave who was about to welcome its master home.

Lindiwe took a
small step back. The sudden rush of hot cravings had taken her completely by
surprise. Its brutal intensity shocked her.

No! I’m
finished with that!

 And yet she
couldn’t deny that her heart was beating faster or that her palms were wet with
the hot sweat of anticipation. A higher part of her mind raced back to the
dozens of AA meetings she had attended in Bethlehem. She tried to focus on the
mantras she had been taught. Tried to refocus her being on the thing

(
what was
it again?)

that she
needed to do. And yet her soul was ablaze with the vivid sensation of the
brandy on her tongue; the hot joy pouring down her throat. Igniting her stomach
with beautiful bright fireworks.

No! No!

The bottle was
in her hands. She could feel its cold angular outline. Soon the alcohol would
race through her blood and – oh God yes – enflame her mind. Lindiwe took
another step backwards.

No! No! No!

She was
choking. She was pouring the liquid down her throat. But in her delirious haste
to consume the bitter liquid she had swallowed too quickly and she was once
again choking. But how sweet a frenzy.

Oh God yes
yes yes!

As she gagged
on the mouthful of old
Cullies

(
good ole
Cullies)

it was everywhere
at once. Her throat, mouth, lungs and nose. It wasn’t enough to drink it. No!
She wanted to be drowned in it ... to be possessed by it. And then ...

She was
falling.

It was a black
girl. And she was walking towards him. Joshua studied her for a moment then
made up his mind. He would ask her about the bus stop. Yes. It was worth a
shot. What else was he going to do?
Hang around until Deadsville came to
life? Not frikking likely.
At least this way he could get some certainty
and make a decision about his next course of action.

Joshua got
down on one knee, threw his duffel bag on the concrete of the sidewalk and
undid the strings. At the bottom he found the old wide-toothed brush. He ran it
through his hair. Next he brought out the map. If he was going to act like a
back-packer he’d better look the part. A quick few sprays of his Brut deodorant
and he was ready. He took a deep breath and headed in her direction. Time to
unleash the famous Kingsley charm.

Josh walked
quickly but casually. He pretended to consult the map in his hands.

Now the girl
was only a small distance from him. He glanced up from his map and
surreptitiously studied her. She had stopped and was looking at something in a
store window. He couldn’t see exactly what. One thing was obvious though ...
she was a beauty. Joshua felt his heart swallow a beat. He was struck by the
smooth curve of her forehead, the petulant upswing of her nose, the clean
contours of her jaw line. Her lips were full and wholesome and her skin – damn!
her skin – was golden brown and unblemished.

She hadn’t
moved from her spot and seemed completely engrossed.
What the hell was she
looking at?
Josh cleared his throat. He wanted to appear as unthreatening
as possible and had his words ready and rehearsed. The girl seemed wholly unaware
of his presence though. Whatever she was looking at held her rapt attention.
She appeared immersed – almost hypnotised. Joshua was mystified when he saw she
was looking at the window of a bottle store. He raised one hand and was about
to greet her.

But then she
stepped back. The heel of her right foot found only empty air at the pavement’s
edge. She stumbled ... and fell.

Joshua threw
down the map and jumped at her.
Shit!
A split second passed like an
eternity. And then he was bent over her, his arms cradling her waist. She had
her arms squashed up against her breasts, braced for the fall. Her eyes were
tightly shut. Slow seconds passed as he stared down at the beautiful girl in
his arms. Then she opened her eyes.

Joshua stared
at her. She looked up at him. Above them grey clouds loomed like an upside-down
mountain. The street was silent.

They stared at
each other while the world hurtled through the cosmos.

Joshua looked
down at her. He felt dumb-struck. The carefully rehearsed words now seemed
meaningless and idiotic.
Hi. How you doing? I’m wondering if you could help
me. You see I’m ...

The girl
looked up at him as if she didn’t see him at all. As if she was focusing on
something in the distance. Then her eyes came into focus. She looked around
herself in a daze and then turned her eyes to Joshua. She fixed him with a
stare that made his throat clench.

He opened his
mouth to speak.

‘Please put me
down.’ Her tone was cold. Her eyes belligerent.

Josh hauled
her to her feet, feeling the red hot flush of embarrassment. He cleared his
throat awkwardly, feeling like a teenybopper on his first date. ‘You should be
careful,’ he said not knowing where to look. ‘You could’ve been hurt.’

‘Thanks, I’ll
try my best.’ The animosity had lessened but her voice was now dripping with
sarcasm.

Josh’s eyes
travelled everywhere – from the spot on the tar where she had almost fallen, to
the bottle store window, to his map and duffel bag lying on the pavement. Finally
he looked at her. Her penetrating gaze remained unfaltering.

‘Okay. Well
... you take care of yourself,’ he said nodding at her. He felt angry. With
himself for his awkwardness. With her for the cool disdain. ‘See you around.’
He hooked his duffel bag with one hand and bent down to pick up his discarded
map. He cast a last look at the girl then began walking. Then he turned.
Without thinking he spoke. ‘Be careful of the abyss.’

‘What?’ The
word was a cold snap.

‘The abyss.’
He racked his memory. ‘If ... you stare too long into the abyss, the abyss will
stare into you.’ The girl’s cold gaze bore into his eye sockets. ‘Something
like that. Some philosopher said it once.’ Despite the anger he felt at her
Josh was again awed by her beauty. He flipped her a mock salute and walked off.

Seconds passed
as he widened the distance between them.

‘Hey!’ she
said behind him. Her voice rang through the cool morning air.

Josh turned to
face her. Now it was her turn to avert her eyes.

Those
beautiful eyes. Those strikingly beautiful eyes.

She worked her
mouth awkwardly, biting her lips. ‘Listen.’ She hesitated smiling softly. Like
a tiny pebble dropped in a large pool, the smile transformed her entire face. Josh’s
heart burst. ‘I’m sorry if I ...’ Her voice was soothing and warm. She took a
step forward. ‘I’m sorry if I was mean,’ she said flicking a quick glance at
the bottle store window. ‘Things have been a bit rough ... lately.’

Joshua felt
his anger dissipate completely. ‘It’s cool. I –’

‘I really
appreciate what you did. Thanks. Really. You were ... gallant.’

Joshua nodded
slowly smiling. ‘Gallant.’ The word felt pleasant on his tongue. ‘Yeah. I dig
the sound of that.’ Josh beamed. ‘Well, you know, I’m just glad I could help.’
He nodded at the tar road. ‘Next time you wanna buy some land ... just lemme
know ahead of time.’ Lindiwe smiled, looking sheepish. They stared awkwardly at
each other for a few moments, both at a loss for words.

 Josh broke
the silence. ‘I suppose I better get going. There’s some things I need to do.’
He nodded a greeting at her. ‘Take care of yourself.’ Josh turned and walked
away. There
was
something. Yes. But what was it? He tried to remember. His
head felt so crowded with thoughts and sensations that he couldn’t think –

‘Nietzsche.’

Had she
spoken? Josh turned around and looked at her. ‘Sorry?’

‘Nietzsche. The
philosopher you mentioned.’

For a moment
his mind was blank as he tried to connect distant points. ‘Oh yeah?’

‘The one that
spoke about the ... abyss? His name is Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche. At least I
think so.’

‘Nietzsche.’
The strange name rolled off Joshua’s tongue like a jawbreaker – big and
awkward. ‘Cool, I’ll remember that.’ Now he remembered something else. ‘Oh
yeah, there was something else I wanted to ask you. But I keep forgetting.’ He
smiled at her, his mind racing as he tried to organise his cover story. ‘I’m
hitching across the country. You know, summer holidays and everything. But I’m
pretty much done with that, so I wanted to catch a bus. Except ...’ He lifted
both palms up to the sky looking around. ‘I can’t find the bus stop.’

Lindiwe
nodded. ‘The buses stop at the petrol station down there.’ She pointed at Mr
McIntyre’s business down the road. ‘But you’re going to have to wait for Maureen.
She sells the tickets at her gift shop.’ She pointed to an area behind Joshua. ‘But
she only opens around eight.’

Joshua turned
to look at the deserted street behind him. ‘Eight? Okay.’ He was disappointed.
That meant more than an hour of waiting. He turned to Lindiwe, frowning. ‘Tell
me something. Is this place always this quiet? I mean, I know it’s early and-’

‘I don’t know.’
Josh noticed that her manner had suddenly become brisk. Distracted. ‘I have to
go.’ She walked past Josh, stopping momentarily. ‘Good luck.’ And then she was
gone, walking hurriedly.

‘Thanks.’ Josh
looked after her for a moment.
Strange girl
he thought.
Beautiful ...
but strange.
He shoved the map into his duffel bag and slung it over his
shoulder. He sighed.