over the tension that’d encapsulated them in those few moments, the one kilometre “adventure zone” as they’d called it – as if giving it an adventurous name made the restriction less harsh – had belied their casual dismissal of their adventure.
I sighed, stretching and struggling to shake the frustration of my current circumstances, as I swung my legs out of bed and pulled the curtains aside, squinting as excitable South African sunshine glinted off the dew-bejewelled rolling lawns of the Van Heerdens’ garden.
The garden extended luxuriously from the house, edged by fields of waving crops on the left, and lusciously green grazing fields on centre and right. The whole tranquil country view was eclipsed however by the dramatic mountains that encroached on the farm.
The Injisuthi mountain range ran in a deeply contrasted gash of soaring rock capped emerald-green peaks and darkly treed valleys.
I stared at the mountains, willing the unexplained adults’ reactions to make sense. They’d seemed – I struggled to understand it – afraid…
I continued to search the mountains, willing them to provide some clue, because Dad’s reaction in particular had been aggressively protective when he was usually so relaxed and carefree. I’d been surprised by the conversation I’d overheard him having with Allan just before he left.
“Allan, I’m trusting you with my reason for living,” he’d told his friend in a quiet but intense tone. “ Please, my friend, look after her.”
Allan had promised him he’d keep me close to the house and out of harm’s way. He’d reassured Dad that Luke was a responsible kid and would make sure I was safe.
Leaning against the dividing wall between the lounge and the kitchen where I’d been eavesdropping, I only just managed to slip out of the wide-flung sliding doors and settle into a camp chair by the dying fire before Dad came outside to say goodbye.
I’d been given a severe lecture before he left. The normal “listen and be helpful” script had been hurriedly brushed aside as Dad warned me to stay on the farm.
“Please, Alex –” his face had been creased in worry, his blue eyes intense “– be very careful.”
“Sure, Dad,” I’d replied, pasting a smile on my face and hiding my confusion. The farm posed very little threat to me, surely he should be more worried about what could happen to me in Johannesburg, my home for most of the year. The worst that could happen here was I might fall off a horse, should I choose to ride one, or be bitten by an irritable goose.
I’d brushed his worry aside, assigning it to the parental guilt I’d seen both my parents war with since they’d split.
“Nothing is going to happen to me,” I told him, hugging him a little awkwardly.
He’d kissed the top of my head and held my face in his hands for a few moments, worry still pulling his shaggy eyebrows together.
“I love you,” he’d told me seriously.
“Love you too, Dad.”
He’d pulled me into another brief hug before getting into his truck and driving away in a plume of moonlit dust and exhaust fumes.
I refocused on the mountains, confusion at Dad’s odd behaviour still tugging at me and wondered if Luke knew anything about the story I felt sure was lurking in the folds of Injisuthi.
He’d been busy with Matt and helping Allan out on the farm for most of the week, but I was sure I’d be able to corner him after breakfast.
Matt was leaving for Hockey camp this morning, and Allan and Maryka had planned to take him there at about ten o clock, leaving Luke and me alone for the day. A quick glance at my clock had me rushing to the bathroom in an attempt to get ready before Matt and his parents left.
Feigning nonchalance that belied the last twenty minutes of frantic grooming, I was sitting at the large oak dining-room table eating breakfast in the sun-drenched kitchen, listening to Matt and Maryka chatting, when Luke came in.
He flopped into the chair next to me, pouring some cereal into a bowl and joining in the conversation.
I loved the way Luke’s family got on. So different to the strained formality I’d become used to before my parents split. This family’s interaction was as natural as breathing, their affection and easy conversation a balm to my warped perception of “normal” family life.
I concentrated on my cereal, trying to blend into the background as best as I could, my favourite place to be.
“So, Alex.” Luke grinned a naughty grin, the grin I remembered from the carefree days of our childhood. “What were you doing in my bedroom last night?”
I froze, my spoon halfway to my mouth, in horror.
“What do you mean?” I scowled.
“I woke up to find you staring at me in the middle of the night. So what was your plan? Did you want to snuggle?”
Matt giggled and Maryka chided him for asking me awkward questions.
His teasing tone held a hint of something else, and while he continued to grin, his eyes were wary.
“Of course not,” I snapped, recovering slightly from the shock. “I got lost on the way to the bathroom.”
He smiled easily and dropped the subject.
Did he believe me? I watched him surreptitiously as I finished my breakfast. The problem was, I didn’t know what I’d been doing in his bedroom, because I didn’t remember walking into it.
I silently cursed my sleepwalking as an irritating and telling blush crawled up my neck.
It bothered me a lot, not just that I’d made a complete fool out of myself by walking into Luke’s room, but because I’d never had the nightmare and gone sleepwalking on the same night before.
Thankfully Allan rushed in shortly afterwards to hurry Matt and Maryka out to Matt’s Hockey camp. The kitchen was suddenly empty, the only sound the scraping of our spoons in the bottom of our bowls.
“What you want to do today?” Luke asked, his eyes flashing briefly to mine.
“Well…” I paused, feeling a little silly. “I was wondering if you knew anything more about the adventure in the Injisuthi that our parents were talking about last night?”
He continued scraping his spoon in the bottom of the bowl, shrugging his shoulders.
“They don’t talk about it very much. I’ve only heard them mention it once or twice before.”
I slumped a little at his caginess as I stared into the milk and remaining soggy bits of oats. I’d been so sure there was something more interesting to their adventure, and even more sure that Luke was curious about it too.
“But I have often wondered why Mom always looks so sad, and Dad gets so protective every time they mention it.”
I looked up sharply to find him toying with the remains of his breakfast, his expression bemused. He continued to stare into his bowl vacantly as he spoke.
“I wonder if Josh knows anything about it?”
Josh was Luke’s lanky, good-natured, bubbly best friend. He was also an insatiable prankster which left me wondering if perhaps his so-called knowledge about our parents’ adventure was just an elaborate joke he’d made up to amuse himself at Luke’s expense.
“He’s mentioned it once before, something about there being a local tribe that lived in this area a couple of decades ago. Josh’s grandfather is related to them somehow.” He frowned, chewing on his lip.
“A local tribe?” I asked, glancing out at the slopes of the mountain framed in the kitchen window and picturing a scattering of traditional round thatch-covered huts dotted beneath the umbrella-shaped acacia trees.
“Yeah, I can’t remember the name