Claire's Prayer (8 page)

Claire’s face lit up, and Naomi sighed in relief.
A point of interest at last!

Responding enthusiastically, Claire explained. “I try to get my ideas from everyday characters. My main character at the moment is a bad-tempered, cheeky, cantankerous squirrel called Squeak. I normally devote two books to each character, while trying to teach a moral lesson at the same time.”

Pausing to thank Joseph for the next course, which consisted of home-fried chicken, chips and coleslaw, Claire continued. She amused Naomi with the true-to-life happenings of Squeak’s adventures: how he learned through trial and error to think before saying hurtful things, and to control his grumpiness. By the end of the meal, even Seth was taking notice and contributing to the conversation.

After coffee, Claire excused herself, accepting Naomi’s offer to walk her back to the lodge. Bidding Seth a quick ‘goodnight’, Claire preceded Naomi out into the balmy night. A strong beam from a halogen light lit the path for them, cutting a glowing line through the shadowy darkness. The two women walked side by side, savouring the tranquillity of the savannah night. Far away in the distance, an owl hooted; closer, crickets chirped.

Naomi’s voice cut into the peace. “Claire, on Saturday it’s my birthday. We’ll be having a braai – I guess you’d call it a barbeque. Some friends are coming over for the evening, and it’s be great if you’d join us. Is that okay?”

Claire protested earnestly, “Really Naomi, I don’t want to impose! I can organise a snack for myself.”

Grasping Claire’s arm with a genuine smile, Naomi insisted, “I want you there, Claire! You’ll enjoy the braai, and it’ll be a chance for you to meet some more of the local people. Braais are such fun. Please say you’ll come?”

Giving in gracefully, Claire accepted the invitation. The rest of the walk was filled with Naomi’s gossip about the neighbours Claire would soon be meeting.

On reaching the lodge, Claire remembered her letters to Aunt Ellen and Kacey and, running inside, she grabbed them. Naomi promised to visit the Post Office on her next trip to Hwange and wished Claire good night with a quick, warm hug.

Not feeling ready to sleep yet, Claire moved one of the armchairs just outside the front door. Making herself a mug of tea, she settled back against the cool leather. It was a quiet night and she let her thoughts roam back in time, bringing to mind special occasions with her parents. She smiled as she recalled odd bits of advice her father had given her over the years. In her mind’s eye she pictured Ireland, her thoughts bringing to life a small, isolated country, which had also survived a turbulent history. She saw clearly the countryside, a patchwork display of delicate shades of green. A land where it rained, or threatened to rain, almost daily. Her mind recalled holidays spent fishing and exploring east of the river Shannon. The wildly beautiful Wicklow Mountains, with lush, green meadowlands… Humming an old Irish ballad,
Danny Boy
, a smile curved her lips. Tears filled her eyes as she remembered quiet evenings, the three of them watching a movie together or talking through the night about every subject under the sun. Claire knew she would have been able to talk to her mam about Seth and his huge impact on her. They’d had so much love, so much laughter… Now she had so much of a loss.

The wind had risen and, feeling chilly, Claire pushed the chair back inside and closed the door. Her memories had been poignant and real. It was good to remember, though now sadness filled her heart. At times she imagined that her parents were there, waiting for her… but they were not, and Ireland would never hold quite the same place in her heart. Surprised to find that it was after midnight, Claire decided to have a quick shower. Pulling the windows closed, she felt slight apprehension at being so alone. She wished someone was closer, in the same building –
Naomi
, Claire told herself:
not Seth
. Squashing her wayward thoughts she continued humming Irish songs. The hot shower relaxed her; the jets of steaming water soothed the tension from her body. Claire huddled under the covers and fell asleep peacefully, unuttered petitions on her lips.

When Naomi had returned to the house, she’d found Seth had disappeared into the office. Leaving him alone, she read her novel for a while and then, making a last cup of coffee for the two of them, she advised Seth to leave the paperwork and get some sleep.

Annoyed at her interruption, Seth at first chose to ignore her advice. Shortly afterwards, though, realising that he was not actually achieving anything, he left the office and made his way upstairs. Looking out of his window, he noticed that Claire’s light was still on and wondered if she was all right. Maybe they should have had her stay on at the main house. Pulling on a pair of shorts after his shower, Seth wondered at his inability to unwind and relax. Crossing the room to the windows, he pulled them shut – at the same time noticing that Claire’s lodge was now in darkness. Somehow feeling more at ease, Seth lay back on his bed.

Oblivion eluded him. With eyes closed, hands joined under his head, he went through the rollercoaster of emotions he had been experiencing since Claire had entered his life. She was a lovely young woman, but there was more to her than just that. He could not pinpoint the elusive quality she had that so fascinated him. In the darkness, a frown furrowed his brow. He did not like the invisible hold Claire seemed to have over him. No matter how he tried to deny it, she attracted him like a magnet attracted iron. Slipping finally into sleep, his last conscious thought was, ironically, that he really had to get her out of his head.

Chapter Seven

He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.

(Isaiah 40: 29-31)

Claire had woken bright and early. As she rinsed her teacup, she heard the breakfast gong. The morning was beautiful, the air fresh and crisp. Closing her lodge door behind her, she made her way to the main house. After breakfast she intended to get some writing done, and the prospect cheered her. She knew, once she got lost in creating a new character, she would be able to stop thinking about Seth. It had always been like that: she entered a world of her own when she was engaged in creating stories and pictures – a world that would then fascinate children the globe over. Her sense of pride and achievement had never dimmed since she had held her first completed book in her hands.

When Claire arrived at the house, Seth, Naomi and Tony were already seated at the table. The smell of bacon and eggs wafted on the air, tantalizing Claire’s taste buds and making her stomach grumble in anticipation as she entered.

Crossing the room and taking her seat, she greeted them. “Good morning, you three – what a lovely day! The food smells
great
.”

Seth seemed to have lost his animosity of the night before. “Hi yourself,” he responded. Glad to see you’re not one of those women who wake up grumpy. Not like someone I could name…” he grinned brightly at Naomi, and got a well-aimed punch on the arm for his comment.

Naomi greeted Claire quietly, stifling a yawn, but cheered up as the meal progressed.

“Claire, I’m taking a drive around the ranch this morning – got to check out the pump at the dam. Would you like to join me?” Seth asked. “It can be your first ‘safari’. You’re our guest, after all – we can’t neglect you just because we’re such a small group!”

Replying on impulse Claire answered, “Yes; that’ll be nice. I was going to do some writing, but I can do that this afternoon.” Even as the words left her mouth, Claire regretted agreeing to go: a whole morning with Seth was bound to be emotionally draining. But a drive around the ranch did sound good, she comforted herself, and who knew what animals she would see.

Leaving Naomi to her own schemes, Seth collected a small bundle from Joseph and they drove off. Today, he drove the open Land Rover, and Claire loved the feel of the fresh air fanning through her hair. Closing her eyes, she silently asked God for a peaceful, tension-free morning.

As they drove out of the gates, Seth informed her, “Keep your eyes open, Claire. There’s normally a fair amount of game about at this time of the day.”

Expectantly, Claire peered into the bush. Despite her intense study, Seth was the first to spot an animal. Slowing the car to a virtual crawl, he pointed to his right. A large, tawny-coloured antelope was clearly visible amongst the trees. Leaning closer to Seth, Claire nodded excitedly.

“That’s an eland,” Seth informed her softly, “the largest of the antelopes. See the short horns?”

Claire nodded again, and Seth continued. “Both the males and females have horns. Eland can become quite tame in captivity, but I prefer to see them wild and free.”

Claire breathed out softly. “What a magnificent animal. Do they always grow so large?”

Starting to drive on again, Seth answered. “That one was a good specimen – they usually grow to stand about six foot at the shoulder.”

“Wow…” Claire enthused, still looking impressed. Then she flashed an excited smile. “Let’s look for something else!”

Seth laughed and drove on, but observed her covertly out of the corner of his eye. He found her enthusiasm contagious. For reasons he did not care to explore, he wanted her to love his country, his ranch. They drove on in silence, both intent on spotting the next animal.

Pointing frantically, Claire gasped, “There, Seth, over there!” In her excitement, she grabbed his forearm. Slowing down and looking in the general direction of her flapping hand, Seth saw a herd of sable.

“Okay, I see them – calm down!” he smiled. “Those are sable and, in my opinion, the most magnificent antelope. Notice their scimitar-shaped horns, and their stately bearing?”

Claire stared in fascination at the inky-black animals. There were about twenty in the herd. The adults had mostly black coats but, while the young bulls and cows also had horns, they were a rich brown colour. Commenting on the difference in the colours, Claire learned that the immature sable would attain darker coats as they matured. As they prepared to drive off, a herd of small buck ran swiftly across the dirt road.

“Oh, Seth, those are lovely too! What are they called?” Claire still had hold of Seth’s arm, not realizing that, as her excitement mounted, her grip tightened.

Turning to catch a glimpse of the disappearing herd, Seth’s large hand covered her slight fingers. As he leaned towards her, looking after the bucks, Claire felt the electricity of his touch tingle through to her toes.

Still watching the bushline, Seth answered, “They’re duiker.”

Before he could continue his explanation, Claire cut in. “I know about duiker! Naomi told me about Sebastian and Sarah. So they’re ‘impunzi’? What a lovely little buck to name the ranch after!”

Claire’s delighted eyes met Seth’s intense gaze for a moment, before she eased her hand out from under his and turned decisively away, towards her window. Engaging the gear, Seth drove on; only now the tension was back, flowing between them. Instead of looking for game, Claire now watched Seth covertly. His hair was windblown and a lock flopped onto his forehead. Her fingers itched to brush it back. His hands, large, square, and tanned brown, became intensely interesting to her. She wondered what they would feel like holding her… Jerking her eyes off him and cutting her thoughts short, she decided that studying the bush was a safer thing to do.

Ahead and to the left, Claire noticed large black birds rising and swooping above the grassland. “Seth, what are those birds doing?”

Seth also saw the ominous scavengers. “Oh – vultures. They’re always around where there’s a carcass… that’s not good news.” Stopping the Land Rover, he continued, “I’m going to have a look. Do you want to come? It may not be a pretty sight – vultures are ugly, ungainly scavengers. But they’re part of the natural cycle of nature, out here.”

Deciding she’d rather not stay on her own, Claire jumped down and fell into step beside him. They didn’t need to go far. The carcass of an antelope, or what was left of it, lay stiff and lifeless under a tree. Claire stepped back, almost gagging. The ungainly vultures had gorged themselves on its flesh, leaving a mass of loose skin and bones; bits of drying meat hung from the ribcage, and the stomach cavity was shiny with congealed blood. The eyeless sockets stared heavenward, unseeingly. Seeing her distress Seth turned Claire into his arms. She burrowed her head against his solid chest, blocking out the gruesome sight. A shiver ran up her spine as she tried to block out the bloody image. Just yesterday, that antelope was probably roaming the ranch. Death was so final, Claire felt, with a shudder. One minute here – then gone. The spark of life could be snuffed out so quickly… Just like it had been for her parents. Claire huddled closer to Seth, taking deep, calming breaths, and reminding herself that a person’s soul and spirit were eternal. She was not just what she saw in front of her now: flesh.

“It’s okay, Claire,” Seth murmured, trying to soothe her. “This is the law of the wild. Every animal is preyed upon. That’s how the balance of nature is maintained. For some to eat, something else must die. It’s survival of the fittest in the bush.” Seth spoke to her soothingly, his hand rubbing rhythmically up and down her spine.

Refusing to look at the pitiful sight again, Claire mumbled, “Seth, please can we go now?”

His arm still around her shoulders, he led her away from the kill. Unable to resist, Claire turned her head and looked back. A few of the vultures were so engorged that they couldn’t even fly. They waddled around, beaks dark with blood. Repulsed, Claire allowed Seth to lead her back to the Land Rover.

Watching as Claire climbed in, he asked, “You okay now? Don’t let it get to you so much; it’s the way of the bush.” Seth was trying to brush off the incident – after all, he’d seen dozens like it even that year. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help feeling angry that this –
this
– would be what Claire remembered from her first real trip out into the bush with him. He’d wanted so much for her to see the best of the ranch, for him to help her to see beauty and life in nature, not more death.

Hearing the concern in his tone Claire answered, in a subdued voice, “I’m okay, Seth. It’s just seeing the animals alive and free one minute… and then seeing a dead one. I understand that something has to die for something else to live. It just seems so cruel. Such a waste.”

“Hold on,” Seth replied, in pacifying tones. “I want to show you something else.” A few minutes later the road curved sharply to the right and there, within metres, was a large dam. “This is a catchment area for water for the ranch,” Seth explained. “It fills up in the rainy season.”
Here
, Seth thought,
surely we’ll just see beauty
.

Claire stepped down to the ground and looked around her, still taking deep, calming breaths. Lush, short grass grew to the water’s edge, where the hooves of many animals had churned up the last few feet of the bank into a muddy mess. And then, like an endless, perfect mirror, the calm surface of the dam reflected the clear blue sky as far as Claire could see. Her eyes widened; the sight seemed all the more magnificent for what had come before it. Amidst the harsh realities of life, Claire was suddenly reminded, God always revealed his love through the beauty of his creation.

Leaving the Land Rover and approaching her, Seth snapped Claire out of her trance. “Why don’t you help yourself to some tea while I check out the pump?” he asked, handing her a flask. “Tony told me it’s been playing up lately and I’d better sort it out – it pumps water to the reservoir for the lodges.” Claire peered towards the patch of trees Seth had indicated. Placed strategically amongst them, almost invisible, was the pump house. Claire now also saw that there were a few tables and benches dotted around the dam, shaded by wide, thatched canopies. “We can do some fishing at the next dam; it’s well stocked with bream,” Seth said over his shoulder, as he walked away. “That okay with you?”

Pouring tea into the fragile plastic mug, Claire answered steadily. “My dad and I used to go trout fishing.” She paused, and Seth looked back. “Can’t wait!” she added, with a smile.

Within half an hour, Seth was finished: the pump now hummed evenly. Wiping his hands on a piece of rag he refused tea, so they drove off. At the next dam Seth parked under the cover of shady acacia trees, where they enjoyed the cool juice and biscuits Joseph had prepared. Seth then removed a couple of fishing rods, a wooden bait box and two folding chairs from the boot. Claire settled into one of the chairs with her feet tucked under her, loving the silence and serenity of the bush. Seth baited a hook with a few wriggling worms and caught Claire’s eye.

“I only ever used flies for the trout,” Claire said, wrinkling her nose. Seth shrugged, and cast the line out. Handing the rod to Claire, he then baited and cast his own. The sun warmed Claire’s body like a massage, and the wind hummed gently through the trees. They sat in comfortable silence: for this moment, in perfect harmony with nature. Claire marvelled at the natural beauty of the game that came and went, drinking, frolicking, and disappearing into the bush again. Seth settled back in his seat, quietly content, only now and again pointing out a certain animal to her. Claire wondered why she and Seth could not always be this relaxed in each other’s company. The absence of the tension was a big relief –
long may it last
, she thought, a sense of peace permeating her heart. She wished these moments of companionship could last forever.

Suddenly her line jerked, and Claire nearly dropped the fishing rod in shock.

“Claire, strike!” Seth encouraged her, excitedly. “Pull your rod back, hard. Looks like you’ve got a big bream there!” Seth placed his rod on the ground as he continued to instruct her.
Like this
, a part of Claire appreciated,
he was masterful and in control. He was impressive.
“Okay, now start reeling in. Stand up; it may be easier for you.”

Claire leapt to her feet, knocking over her chair. The rod was bent almost in half and her arm ached already, but if it was the last thing she did she would land this fish. The bream struggled and fought to get loose, but eventually hung, worn out, as Seth removed it from her hook. It really was big, and Claire beamed with childlike pride.

“Well done!” Seth said. “A few more like this one and Joseph will be able to make us his delicious fishcakes tonight.”

Placing the fish in the keep net, Seth handed the rod back to Claire, along with the bait box. Smiling at her, he challenged, “You saw me bait the hook; now see if you can do it yourself.”

Accepting his challenge grudgingly, Claire opened the bait box and looked in mild disgust at the wriggling mass of earthworms. Grabbing one between her fingers, she immediately dropped it as it wriggled, slimy and snakelike. Hearing Seth’s muffled chuckle, she determinedly gripped another one and, silently apologising to it, threaded it onto her hook. With a satisfied glower at Seth, she stood and cast the line out.

Grinning, Seth handed her a damp cloth to wipe her fingers. “Knew you could do it.”

The pair had been sitting quietly in the shade for nearly twenty minutes when a couple of giraffe strode confidently out of the treeline, and made their way to the water’s edge. Claire froze, eyes wide, and turned her head to Seth. Seth pointed at them subtly, and whispered, “The tallest of all mammals…”

Claire took in the peculiar bodies, long necks and uncoordinated gait of the animals in front of her. The giraffe were covered with a brown patchwork on their coats of tawny orange. She thought it wonderful that they seemed so clearly, so decoratively marked, but were so well camouflaged in the bush. The giraffe spread their front legs wide apart and dropped their long necks down to the water. Their position looked so funny that Claire giggled aloud. Glancing around, perturbed, the giraffe loped slowly and ungainly back into the bush. Once again, Claire was amazed at the variety of God’s creatures.