When Time Fails (Silverman Saga Book 2) (14 page)

Annamari could hear the phone ringing as she battled to unlock the back door, but the lock was stiff and the key wouldn’t turn
.
She swore softly as one of the Spar packets slipped out of her hand and clattered onto the ston
e
stoe
p
. She hoped it wasn’t the one with the eggs. She put down the rest of the packets, wrestled the door open, and ran through the kitchen to the lounge. The phone stopped ringing just as she reached it. Damn.

She turned and headed back to the kitchen to rescue her groceries before the dogs got to them. The phone rang again. She hesitated. Then she hurried across the kitchen into the lounge.

‘Hello?’

‘Ma, hello.’

Arno. She’d forgotten he’d told her he would be phoning her today – or tomorrow – as soon as he heard anything. He was so hopeful this time. It had been nearly five months since he’d finished his honours degree, and he still hadn’t been able to find a job.

‘Come home,’ Thys said every time Arno phoned to tell them about another job he hadn’t got. ‘You can market Steynspruit produce. I’ll speak to Petrus. It will be good for us to have a professional handling our sales and stuff.’

But Arno refused. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help Steynspruit Kibbutz, he said; it was just that he really loved it in the city. So he was going to stick it out in Gauteng and hopefully, something would come up.

‘Hell
o
seu
n
.’ Annamari clutched the phone and crossed her fingers.

‘I didn’t get it, Ma. They phoned me just now and they said they had been really impressed with me and my presentation and everything, but – well, I wasn’t what they were looking for.’

Annamari sank down on to the couch and tried to keep her voice neutral, unaccusing. ‘But you said the interview went really well. Why didn’t they tell you then that you weren’t what they were looking for? That’s just not fair.’ Her heart broke for him. He’d been so excited about this job too. Usually, his applications merely received a form letter telling him that he hadn’t been considered. Or he didn’t get a response at all.

‘Ja, well... apparently there was someone else who was more what they wanted.’

‘I don’t understand.’ She could hear her voice rising, but she couldn’t stop it. ‘I just don’t get it. You did so well. It’s not as if they just dish ou
t
cum laud
e
awards like flippin
g
Smarties. You’d think big companies – small companies – everyone, would be falling over themselves to employ you.’

‘Times have changed, Ma. There’s lots of people with marketing degrees out there looking for jobs.’

‘Ja, but there were only two of you in your whole class who go
t
cum laud
e
. Are you telling me that all the people you graduated with also can’t find jobs? I’m sorry. I’m not cross with you. I know how hard you’re trying but...it just doesn’t make any sense.’

‘Well... it’s not so easy for guys like me. I didn’t think it would matter so much, but it seems it does.’

‘What do you mean “guys like you”? What’s wrong with you?’ Annamari looked up at the large photograph on the wall above the fireplace – a “family portrait” the man at the photo studio in Bethlehem had called it when they all went together to have it taken for Annamari and Thys’ twentieth wedding anniversary two years before. Arno looked so handsome in that picture. All her boys did – even little Steyn was absolutely adorable. He might be her son, but anyone could see that Arno would be an asset for any business.

‘There’s nothing wrong with me, Ma. It’s just that ... I’m white. And a man.’

‘What?’

‘Ja well, it seems that pale males like me are sort of at the bottom of the pile when it comes to getting employed nowadays. But really, Ma, don’t worry. Something will come up. You’ll see. Before Pa’s deadline.’

Thys had given Arno one more month and then, he said, Arno would have to come home. They’d taken a vote at the last Kibbutz Members’ meeting, and the result had been unanimous. Arno would be accepted as a full adult member of the Steynspruit Kibbutz – the third Steynspruit Kibbutz child to be considered, and only the second to be accepted. Johannes’ son had been rejected after a furiously heated argument. But ultimately, the kibbutz members had decided they didn’t want that “lazy, disrespectful boy” to be a full kibbutz member until he learned a few manners.

When Arno’s name came up for debate, his acceptance had been unanimous.

‘It’s a great honour, Arno,’ Thys had said. ‘It shows how much the kibbutz members think of you. It means that Steynspruit – the whole farm, not just our house – will always be your home.’

Now it looked like Arno might not have a home, not if Tannie Estie was correct.

But Annamari didn’t tell Arno. She couldn’t. So she told him about Steyn’s latest crash-landing as he tried to take off from th
e
stoe
p
balustrade; and about De Wet’s selection for the Free State Craven Week rugby side.

‘Your Pa is so happy, you can’t believe it. You’d think De Wet had won the Lotto. Pa was so upset when De Wet said he’d decided that he would rather play cricket when he finishes matric,’ Annamari said.

‘Well, that was probably because he’d just done so well at the Coca-Cola cricket tournament. I bet you won’t be sorry, Ma, if he chooses cricket. I know how much you hate it when he gets all bloodied and bruised.’

‘Ja. But don’t tell your pa that. At least he can’t get hurt playing cricket.’

Arno laughed. ‘Who would have thought my little brother would be chosen as opening batsman for the Free State schools side? And now, he’s also going to Craven Week for rugby. I’m really proud one of your boys got Pa’s genes.’

Annamari swallowed. ‘Hey, I’m proud of you. I don’t think it’sright, that you can’t... oh help. Arno, I have to go. I left the shopping on the bac
k
stoe
p
and I think the dogs are eating it.’

Annamari ran back to the kitchen. Wagter looked up from lapping at the broken eggs, turned and bolted down the stairs.

***

Annamari unlocked the Steynspruit post box in the corridor outside the Driespruitfontein Post Office. She sorted through the pile of junk mail, and was about to throw the plain brown envelope into the rubbish bin when she noticed the Department of Land Affairs stamp on the back. She turned it over, her blood freezing in her veins. She prayed it was just a routine circular. But she knew, she just knew, this was payback time.

It was addressed to “Mr and Mrs T van Zyl
,
Posbu
s
325, Driespruitfontein”
.

She held it gingerly at the top corner. It flapped in the breeze as she slowly made her way back to the Steynspruit minibus to wait for the other Kibbutz women. Should she wait until she got home, wait for Thys to finish teaching for the day, and open it with him? Perhaps they should ask Petrus to call a Kibbutz Steynspruit meeting and open it then. Perhaps she should just tear it up and throw it away. She put her fingernail under the flap and jiggled. Just a little. Nervously. And then the envelope just popped open. It was obviously a sign.

Holding her breath, she unfolded the document inside.

GENERAL NOTICE IN TERMS OF THE RESTITUTION OF LAND RIGHTS ACT, 1994 (ACT NO.22 OF 1994), AS AMENDED.

Notice is hereby given in terms of section 11 (1) of the Restitution of Land Rights Act, 1994 (Act No.22 of 1994), as amended, that a claim for restitution of land rights has been lodged on the farm Steynspruit in the Driespruitfontein District, Free State.

The claimed land in terms of the Restitution of Land Rights Act, 1994 (Act NO. 22 of 1994) as amended is the full extent of the farm known as Steynspruit.

Mr. Thabiso Hadebe lodged a land claim on behalf of the Hadebe/Schekoera/Moilwa families on the 31st of December 1998.

The following table delicts the land claimed by the above claimants.

Farm Name: Steynspruit

Current Owner: Mr and Mrs T van Zyl

Extent in Hectares: 1,200ha

The Regional Land Claims Commission for the Free State and Northern Cape on Restitution of Land Rights will further investigate the claim in terms of the provisions of the Act, as amended. Any party who has an interest in the above-mentioned land claim is hereby invited to submit, within 30 days from the date of this Notice, any comments/information to:

The Regional Land Claims Commissioner

Free State and Northern Cape

P.0. Box 2345

Kimberley

8300

Tel: (053) 807 5555

Fax:(053)807 5556.

‘Hello. This is Bontle’s phone. Please leave a message.’

Annamari peered at the number in the contact list on her cell phone. She was sure she had dialled it correctly. She dialled again, slowly: 074 555 5679.

‘Hello. This is Bontle’s phone. Please leave a message.’

Now what? Annamari knew she should have written the number in her tattered, trusty address book with its faded floral cover. But Thys and De Wet had laughed at her. No one, they said, still used a proper address book.

‘Look Ma,’ De Wet had said, waving her little cell phone under her nose. ‘You enter the person’s name and phone number here; and when you want to phone them, you find their number in your contact list... like this, see? And then you just press this button. That’s it. Easy.’

But it wasn’t. Annamari hated the little phone that seemed to have a mind of its own. However with the real telephone being out of order so often – the copper cables kept being stolen, they said – these fancy cell phones had become essential. It was just as well Vodacom had put up that tower on th
e
koppi
e
, Thys had said. Annamari was less impressed. She could see it, every time she looked out beyond the fields, past the poplars. It was ugly and it didn’t work. Calls were always cut off, right in the middle of a conversation. So Annamari always tried the proper phone first, just to see if it was working, before she resorted to her new Nokia. De Wet said it was the “coolest” phone on the market.

She replaced the real telephone and clicked on Beauty’s name in the Nokia’s phonebook, just as De Wet had shown her.

‘Hello. This is Bontle’s phone. Please leave a message.’

Annamari resisted the temptation to hurl the little device against the wall. She had to get hold of Beauty. This was urgent. They only had another twenty days to respond to that awful, awful letter. Beauty would know what to do, who to contact, even if she wasn’t a proper lawyer yet. Petrus, Thys and her, they had all agreed that it would be best to speak to Beauty before doing anything else. But that had been hours ago, just after she had got back from Driespruitfontein with the letter.

She had rushed down to the school to show it to Thys. He told her to take it to Petrus in the kibbutz office. He would just set some homework for the children, dismiss them and join her there.

Annamari panted into the office. Petrus got up and came towards her from behind the desk, as he always did. Annamari fiddled with her collar as they went through their ritual greeting, asking after each other’s health, their families’ wellbeing.

She held out the letter. ‘Look at this. Do you know this Thabiso Hadebe person? Who on earth are the Schekoera and Moilwa families?’

Petrus took the letter and stared at it. He wiped his glasses on his white handkerchief and put them back on his nose. He squinted at the letter, put it down on the desk and sank into his chair.

‘What does this mean?’ His voice shook.

‘It’s a land claim against Steynspruit. These people – this Thabiso Hadebe and the Schekoera and Moilwa families – they seem to think that Steynspruit belongs to them.’

‘
Tjhe
e
! No. No. Steynspruit belongs to you Kleinmissie. And Kibbutz Steynspruit belongs to all of us. I don’t know any Thabiso Hadebe, I don’t know Schekoera or Moilwa. I don’t know ... Missy please. This is our home! They can’t take it away from us, where would we go? What are we going to do? You have to stop them...’

‘We will stop them, Petrus,’ Thys said as he hurried through the door. ‘Please, calm down. It must be a mistake. I’m sure it’s a mistake. We need to deal with this calmly. We mustn’t panic. Come, let’s sit and talk about this rationally.’

But there was nothing rational about it. They talked around and around in circles. Should they tell the other kibbutz members? Thys felt they should. She and Petrus disagreed. What was the point of creating panic until they had explored all their options? Until they understood all the implications. Until they were able to find out who these people were.

‘If we call a kibbutz meeting and ask, perhaps someone will know more,’ Thys said.

‘Rosie was the only person who might have known who these people are. She was born on Steynspruit,’ Annamari said, swallowing the lump that always rose in her throat when she thought of her old nanny.

Petrus rubbed his right hand over his face, covering his eyes, but a tear escaped and leaked down his cheek. ‘Ai, I miss her. But I don’t think even she would know them. I too have lived here always. My father, he was also born here, when your father’
s
oup
a
was a boy, Kleinmissie. There was no one by that name. I am sure.’

***

‘Hello?’

At last! After Petrus had confirmed that the number she had been dialling for Beauty was correct, Annamari had continued to try it, continued to get that same, annoying message. Then suddenly, she was through.

‘Beauty, is that you?’

‘MaAnni? How are you?’

‘Beauty, I’ve been trying to get hold of you for hours. But someone called Bontle kept answering.’ Annamari realised she was being rude and abrupt. But she had no time for long, drawn out pleasantries. Not now. Too much was at stake.

‘I am Bontle,’ Beauty said. ‘How are yo
u
Mm
a
? How is BabaThys, and De Wet, and Steyn...’

‘What? You’re Bontle?’

‘Yes. Bontle – Beauty – you know.’

‘You changed your name? I don’t understand.’

‘You wouldn’t, MaAnni. You couldn’t. Why are you phoning? Is my mother okay? My uncle?’

Annamari reassured her that Pretty and Petrus were well, as was everyone else on Kibbutz Steynspruit
.

‘So is it about the TRC?’

‘The TRC?’

‘The Truth and Reconciliation Commission, MaAnni. Remember? You couldn’t have forgotten that, surely?’

‘Beauty! Of course not. But that’s not for months. No, this is different. And it’s really urgent. We need your help. Or some advice. Perhaps you could ask one of your lecturers or at the law clinic. We’ve just had some terrible, terrible news.’

Silence.

‘There’s a land claim against Steynspruit.’ Annamari paused but instead of Beauty’s expected exclamation of shock, of horror, of anger, of something, the silence continued.

‘Damn, this stupid phone, why does it always do this?’ Annamari said, glaring at it in frustration.

‘I’m still here,’ Beauty said.

‘Did you hear what I said? About the land claim?’

‘Yes.’

‘And?’

‘And what?’

‘I don’t know, Beauty. Can you help us? Tell us how to fight it?’

‘Why?’

Annamari gasped. ‘This is your home we’re talking about.’

Silence.

‘Beauty? Are you still there?’

‘Yes.’

‘What’s the matter? You sound so... What’s wrong?’

‘Oh MaAnni, if you ... you’d never ... Listen, you have to understand. The law clinic here... well, we help the dispossessed. You know – the land claimants against the people who stole their land. So I really don’t think we could assist ...ummm ...people like... ummm.’

Annamari sank down on the couch, her hand shaking. ‘Petrus said we should ask you what to do. It’s from some people we’ve never heard of. And if we don’t fight it... if we lose ...we – all of us – your mother, your uncle, me, Arno and... we’re going to lose our home.’

‘Oh, did my uncle tell you to ask me? Well, okay then. I’ll see ... I don’t know how much...’

‘Oh, thank you. You have no idea how worried we all are. Hello? Hello? Beauty can you hear me?’

Silence.

Annamari glared at the phone.