‘Stop that. You see, when your future employers examine your CV, they are likely to
be concerned that you spent – how long? – starring in a Disney cartoon. How long does
it take to raise a leopard cub? And what if you then find an orphan < aardvark?’
Ariel laughed for a long time, skirting the borders of hysteria, disturbing Ingwe,
listening to her father’s droll smile hanging across seas and continents. Sindisi stirred
and opened her eyes, grumpy with sleep.
‘ Aaaah, Papi. Six months? I don’t know. I love it here.’
‘Yes, but–’
‘I may stay for much longer. Hm, I’ve met a boy–’
‘ No, child.’ His voice was suddenly sharp. ‘You have to study. Do you understand?
You have to come back. You will lead a life of hardship and regret if you don’t. You’re
too intellectual. Take your year, travel, raise your leopard cub. But the world today < if
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you float around Africa like some damn hippy, all heart and no brain, it’ll chew you up.
Trust me on this, child. I cannot stress how important–’
‘Yes Papi. I know,’ she sighed. ‘You’re right.’
‘Now. Tell me where you are.’
And so they turned to practicalities. Ariel told him nothing of what had happened,
and he did not ask.
Blessing wiped the sweat from her face as she toiled up the haphazard steps of stone
and root towards her homestead. The hunger-void of her belly had spread to her limbs;
if she walked any slower she’d fall down backwards. Between the steps she walked
Pondo mountain-style, swinging her legs around from the hips, not bending her knees,
each swing incrementally higher up the hill than the last, using the turn of her body to
save valuable, ebbing energy. In a plastic-raffia bag on her head, mielie-meal, oil, sugar,
salt, paraffin, new shoes, matches, a new Bible for her aging uncle. The five mud-and-
stick thatched huts inched into view, and she rested under a ravaged witch-hazel, bag
on a rock.
The huts – her childhood – looked smaller, shrunken like drying mushrooms on the
hillside. Her uncle had whitewashed the walls recently, cheerful in the green. Spinach
and pumpkin rioted, the mielies stood tall from the recent rain. She patted her
severance pay in her damp bra and noticed that a branch of the tree was dead. She
broke it off as an offering of firewood.
The dog lifted his head from the shade of a hut, one ear sharpened. Then he
staggered his gaunt body slowly from the ground and trotted down to meet her, tongue
lolling in a grin of welcome.
A dark, squat figure emerged from a doorway, and Blessing gasped. Tears swelled
and broke and mingled with her sweat. Her mother, her mother back from Joburg, back
for Christmas with city presents, back from her maid’s job with her rich white family,
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the job that had orphaned Blessing but for three clinging weeks a year. She wiped her
tears with a trembling smile, balanced the bag, and forced her legs to work again.
‘My child. Why are you here?’ Mma Zondo held her daughter at arm’s length and
studied her face. ‘Why < did Miss Quail give you leave? So soon after starting the job?’
‘Mama, I <’
‘Have you been fired?’
Blessing nodded, flinching.
‘No! No, this cannot be! Do you understand what you’ve done?’ She swung her arm
and slapped Blessing, hard.
‘ Mama! Why?’ She collapsed to the ground, legs failing.
‘Forgive me.’ Mma Zondo sat down and hugged her. ‘Forgive me, my child, my
child. But this is terrible. I too have been fired. Now there is no money. I shall starve.’
‘But you worked for them for twenty years! How could they fire you?’
‘They do not care. They have the hearts of lizards. They said I am too old. They hired
a young Shona makwerekwere from Zimbabwe. I raised their children and they threw
me out like an old dog.’
‘But Mama? They paid you pension money every month?’
‘I < I have spent it. Come, this ground is hard. Let us go inside. Are you hungry?’
Blessing nodded, clutching at her meager bag.
They raised themselves from the red dust, fighting fearful ennui. But Mma Zondo
was a Jozi suburbanite, accustomed to fear. She knew, with trained certainty: someone
has to help us.
And the only one we have is Churchill.
He tested a gate-pole with a shake – it stood firm - and surveyed the line of the fence
with one eye. Mosh waited at a distance. Eventually he smiled and nodded approval.
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‘Where’s Ariel?’
Mosh shrugged. He hadn’t seen her for several days.
‘You fighting, son?’
Are we? He shrugged again. It certainly felt like it. With every day, every solitary
night, her distance seemed more implacable.
Churchill had a curious thought: She’s a new mother. He doesn’t understand yet. That he
now comes second. He remembered when Mosh was but a little baby, a bundle of primal
willpower in his half of the bed, the stone in his wife’s eyes – this is how it is - and his
own happiness when he submitted. He sensed the confusion in his son and laid a gentle
hand on his shoulder, uncertain what to say. But he had to say something:
‘Not that it’s any of my business, but I think that in matters of the heart Europeans
are a lot tougher than us.’
Mosh frowned and straightened his back, shaking off his father’s hand. They both
stepped away and squatted down to examine the cave, which now contained only a
threadbare, stained mattress. The mamba-hole had been bricked up and the ant-lions
had re-opened their traps, ready for gruesome business.
‘Maybe we should have a, like a party,’ said Mosh. ‘When we introduce the leopard
to its new home. Invite everyone. You know, like a house-warming?’
‘No.’ Ariel’s voice came from behind, surprisingly close. They stood and turned, and
she walked to them and took Mosh’s hand. She smiled into his eyes and said ‘I want to
make this as natural as possible. A mother leopard changes her den, to avoid other
predators.’ She reached up and kissed him gently on the cheek. ‘So I think that I must
do it alone. At night.’
Churchill caught a glimpse of the relief in his son’s face and turned away. He walked
through the gate to distance himself from their murmurs, the sunset trailing his shadow
on the wall of Kay’s cottage.
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6
‘Thanks. Thanks a lot.’ Kay replaced the phone, stretched out on the sofa and closed
her eyes. A transient peace had settled across the room, softening the lines of anxiety
carved into her face. Three leaning pillars of sunlight slanted from the open window.
Ariel came through from the kitchen, curious, drawn by the smile framing the
occasional words of assent Kay had murmured as she listened.
‘Who was that?’
‘This American girl, Ursula? God, she’s amazing. She’s been here a coupla years,
helping Deon and his guys rehabilitate. Introduced a leopard back to the wild last year.
She’s gonna drive up when she gets the chance.’
‘S u per! What did she say?’
‘Um, quite a lot. Gushing somewhat, all positive and enthusiastic. And
knowledgeable? I tell you, I thank the sweet lord for people like her. Reminds me that
however hard it is, what we do is better than anything else in the world.’
‘Yes.’
‘Anyway. In nature leopards establish a territorial range. A male leopard’s territory
is much bigger than female’s. Overlaps. They live with their mother until they’re about
a year old, then they establish their own range. The males migrate, while the females
take a territory next to their mother’s. Gradually, y’know, interacting and learning. If a
female is a stranger, not related, then the territorial females will try and kill her. They
often do, because they know the terrain, more experienced.’
‘Oh. Oh dear. How can we find-’
‘It’s gonna be difficult, Ariel. The best thing would be a new reserve, where there no
other leopards. If we just let her go into the Kruger Park she won’t have much chance of
surviving alone.’
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‘And they only become independent after a whole year?’
‘Yeah. Even more, depends on the leopard. And she’s four, five months old now, I’d
say. So if you’re going to see this thing through <’
‘I will see it through. However long it takes.’
‘Sure, sure I believe you. You don’t exactly strike me as a flaky kind of person. But,
but may I be frank?’
‘Of course.’
‘You’re very young. And this is one helluva commitment. Shouldn’t you be worrying
about your career or something? Won’t you get sick of this? I mean, I won’t be able to
take care of Sindy if you give up. I just don’t have the time.’
‘My youth affords me fanaticism. Irrational commitment. Love.’
‘Uh, right. But still <’
‘Let me show you. Come.’ Ariel led her through to the kitchen, to the window
overlooking Sindisi’s run. She was slouching along, growling at the bush beyond the
fence. She had grown noticeably since her arrival, her shanks thinner, jowls lolling, her
expression open-mouthed, delinquent disdain.
‘She’s better, see? She’s wild.’ Ariel whispered, moving to the door.
Sindisi turned. A faint rasping, her thickening voice, drifted up to the window.
Kay watched as Ariel crossed the yard and into the run, opening and closing the
gate. The leopard ambushed her, jinking, feinting, wrapping around her legs. With a
shriek and a snarl they fell and rolled around in the weeds. Sindisi broke away and then
flopped down and rolled in the dust. She sat up, caught Kay’s eye through the glass and
coughed, the sound of uncertainly sawed wood.
Kay hurried to the door, but then she paused, frowned, and walked back into the
house to check on Savannah.
Who was reading. Harry Potter.
‘Sav? Come on. Let’s go play with the leopard.’
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Dark eyes shuddered, blinked in a pale face, and then wandered back to the book for
a bleak second. Then she threw it aside and slid off the bed, slack and dry-mouthed.
Shoulder Thomas cast a glance over and went back to staring at the rat.
‘Oh come, come my sweetie. Do you want a glass of water?’
She half-nodded, listless, and lifted her hand to be held, just like a baby girl. And ten
minutes later she was running, tumbling, fighting, shouting, glowing red under the sun,
her face and her T-shirt split with manic joy.
Sindisi tired first, tired of these jumpy, hard-footed humans. She loped, panting, to
the shade of the tree. Sav kicked the fence and a wave of tinkly wire rippled around the
enclosure, a thousand little bells all around. Her thin chest heaved in the clean air.
Ariel collapsed laughing alongside the leopard, wiping hair from her face.
‘You guys did a good job, hey?’ said Kay, sitting leaning against the fence, hands
linked behind her head, legs up, looking around through black shades. ‘Good straight
lines. Looks professional.’
‘Mosh is amazing.’
‘Yeah. So are you.’
‘You too. Look. Look, the light is golden.’
Kay took off her shades. The afternoon stretched, wordless.
‘Sindy! Leave!’
The cat was examining the awkward corner pole by the tree, its diagonal supports.
She tested the wire with her claws.
‘Hey, look there, Ariel. You left the supports on the inside of the wire. As one should,
I suppose. But she can climb up – woah! Sindy! Stop! ’
But in one fluid leap she was teetering on the top of the pole, tail squirming for
balance, forepaws tucked in. Kay jumped to her feet. The sudden movement startled the
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cat and she fell into the outside bush. Clawing the air to bring her paws up, she plunged
face-first into green thatch-grass. Kay ran for the gate.
‘Wait,’ said Ariel, and Kay dropped dead in her tracks, surprising herself. She would
remember that instant many times in the years to come, that instinctive obedience. Ariel
stood up and prowled to the fence. The kitten had unoopsed and sat on her haunches, a
stick of grass stuck up her nose.
‘Come Sindi come.’
The gate clanged, a glimpse of Savannah running around. Sindisi scampered along
the fence towards her. ‘Ag shame man,’ laughed Kay, hands on her hips. ‘Put some wire
over the tops of the corners? But Ursula also said you must take her for walks, in the
bush. Explore. If she has bonded with you, she won’t run away.’
The day was hot, the bush ripe with summer. A cloud of dancing midges attacked
their faces as they crossed the open ground, a ball of outrage at the trespass. Sindisi
sneezed and snapped her jaws shut and a few were sacrificed, to the leopard’s gagging
disgust. Ariel lowered her to the ground to get below but the cloud moved off anyway,
seeking again the perfect centre of the clearing. Where do they store the energy in those tiny
bodies, she thought, to fly so aimlessly all day long? And why do they do it?
They did not go far on that first day, skirting around the first trees. They found shade
and sat to watch and listen.
Most tourists the green ignores. The web is used to their harmless bumbling, their
loud, sweaty, happy pink. But Ariel’s aura drew the bush of the eastern side of the farm
and it turned in slow awareness towards her. She felt it too, felt something inside
reaching out. Her eyes deepened, absorbing colors not in the spectrum.
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… this is home.
And no thought, no memory of Alpine foothills or winter Christmas, rose to
disagree.
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7
She lay in her cave. Heat ebbed from the brick and out into the deepening sky, where
sacred ibis drew a descending V over the last embers of the sun. Sindisi, fresh from her
nap, purred and stroked cheeks, impatient to go. They could sense prey settling down
for the night; shrub-hare shuffling into grass, birds into comforting crooks, snakes and
viscous lizards into cracks and crannies, paused as the world turned. A lone steenbok
scented leopard and barked once before drifting back to sleep, thinking it came from the
true bush beyond the fence. Genet, bush baby, a family of olive mongoose and a wildcat
all lay awakening, waiting for the hunt. Ariel too felt the stirring in her bones and
prowled hands and knees to the entrance.
A hedgehog bustled out onto the stretch of grass beyond the steps, drawn by the
insects drawn by the light bulb above the kitchen door. Sindisi tensed behind the stone
pillar, then stalked along the wall to the fence. The hedgehog snouted the air, bristled
and scurried back to cover.
‘No, Sissy. Leave.’
Whatever, flicked her tail. Fence. She snarled and glared at the pole affixed to the wall.
A V of horizontal chicken-wire capped the join. The plaster was scored with claw-
strokes.
The crunch of shoes up the driveway beyond the house, so she slinked back into the
cave. Ariel sniffed the air and smiled, and Sindisi blinked annoyance and turned from
her; this twitching and stretching of monkey-human lips < other people. The man. She
growled and lashed with her tail.
Ariel crawled from the cave and stood upright.
‘Let’s get out of here.’
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‘Okay,’ smiled Mosh. ‘At last. Where?’
‘ Any where.’ Ariel stretched and shook. Ingwe slipped from her shoulders and
ghosted across the earth, through the fence and into the cave. ‘Go for a drive and see
where it takes us. Can I buy you a beer somewhere?’
‘Absolutely. I suppose the bar at lodge is outta the question?’
‘Indeed.’
‘Well, there’s the Krokodil. It’s a boere bar. Y’know, white guys? They’ll fall off their
stools if you walk in with me. But it’s okay, I should survive. Or we could go to the
shebeen, y’know, the black guys. That might be a bit more complicated.’
‘Why?’
‘Uh, ex-girlfriends and such. Perhaps I should say < unpredictable. There’s also a
gang of losers there who are jealous of my good fortune. You might be too much.’
‘You sound vain.’
‘Do I? Envy is dangerous in Africa. Some of my people <’ he shook his head and
muttered, ‘< idiots.’
‘Then let’s not go there. Anywhere else?’
‘Yeah, in town. There’s a nightclub, dance floor, pool tables–’
‘Why didn’t you say so? Let’s go!’
‘Y’wanna get changed first?’ He stood tall and broad in his new white shirt and
narrow in his Levi’s, with a smile at her disheveled T-shirt. ‘And maybe have a bath?’
She was not quite prim, but freshly-scrubbed, stiff disapproval quivered the bakkie’s
cab. ‘Did you not see that car? Or the stop sign?’
‘Hey. He was traveling too fast.’
‘You’re such a strange person, Mosh. One moment you are civilized, courteous, the
next you’re like < like <’
‘Like an animal?’
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She glanced over at him, a smile creeping into her eyes. ‘You said it.’ He grinned
wolfishly back, and she redirected him with a forgiving nod to the road ahead.
‘Well, just look at the pot calling the kettle black,’ he muttered.
‘Excuse me?’
‘I said,’ with a drum-roll on the steering wheel, ‘d’you like it?’
‘ I love it! ’ She shouted a laugh and leaned over with a kiss.
They negotiated the road in silence a while, the L-word hanging in the air. She
sprawled back in her seat, turning away from him, an absent-minded thumb between
her soft lips. He glanced back-and-forth from the dim, flickering pools of the headlights
to her, each glance at the curve of her profile, the scars, that dark averted eye, lingering
longer and longer <
BANG! Something whipped across the windscreen something with legs. He slammed
the brakes and slew shrieking rubber onto the narrow verge. The quiet was abrupt, the
engine idling as they twisted back into the dark beyond the rear window.
‘That was an animal,’ she whispered. ‘Didn’t you see it?’
‘I <’
‘You were looking at me. I could feel it. You really must learn how to drive properly,
Mosh. Actions have consequences. You could kill us both. This is a ton of speeding
metal, not a computer game.’
‘I know, I know, you’re right. But hey, I never play computer games-’
‘Oh shut up, you idiot.’ She opened the door and jumped out.
He dragged the body to the front of the bakkie for her to see.
‘It’s beautiful. Oh, poor thing. What is it?’
‘Civet. Related to the mongoose, but much bigger. Climbs, fishes, very clever. They
can eat poisonous fruit. Shy. Shame, man.’
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The civet had a stylish patterned coat, a muted grey in the headlights. Its handsome,
black-masked face was smashed on one side and dark with blood. A metallic,
cinnamony smell reached her. Musk?
Or the blood of my enemy?
She shook her head. Her mouth was suddenly dry, and she passed a shaking hand
over her face.
‘Hey. Hey Ari. Are you all right? I’m sorry about this. Really, I’m sorry. Please don’t
be so angry, I also feel bad–’
‘No, it’s not you. There’s something different < so much death recently, and I <
forget it.’ She clawed at the civet, hoisted it up and threw it into the back of the bakkie.
‘Can I keep this? To give to Sindisi. To fight?’
‘Yeah, cool. Civet’s leopard competition. She won’t eat it, though. Leopards eschew
the flesh of other predators.’
‘Eschew? You getting larney on me all of a sudden?’ A passable imitation of a
Seffrican accent as she climbed back in.
‘Yeah. While you were hiding away, I’s reading my dictionary. So I can understand
what you say like half the time.’
‘This is going to be a good jol,’ she said. ‘I can feel it.’
‘Yeah. Crazy stuff.’
‘Do you < do you think I’m crazy?’
‘What, with the leopard and stuff?’
‘Yes, and <’
‘No, no I think it’s amazing. It’s very, very cool. You’re like this < amazing person.
Truly.’
‘Studying the dictionary hasn’t helped much.’
‘I’m focused. On the road ahead.’
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And indeed he was, his care just a touch on the side of showy. He streamlined a
mountain bend into the valley, weight even on both axles. The town strung lights of
welcome before them. They crossed a mossy old bridge, then past industry and
warehouse retail with fence and tar and prefab then the roadside shops, farm
equipment, used cars, a MacDonald’s spluttering fluorescence through a vague mound
of dead insects inside the bright yellow plastic of the arches. Then the long, white stucco
of a townhouse development, cartesian Tuscan presiding over bare, flattened earth.
Then a tightening belt of riotous, ramshackle green, the pretty older suburbs huddled in
sub-tropical profusion, then a lone traffic light, red. Mosh slowed and stopped.
No cars, but he waited for green, whistling through his teeth, and then crawled into
the old town, past buildings no more than three stories high, some still with battered
colonial facades, others more recent plate-glass. She could sense the town as it once
was, this insular night-fear outpost, the jungle a frontier all around. Pedestrians
appeared like ghosts from the murk, loose-limbed jollers in black, earth-colored
streetkids, security guards.
Even at night this core felt overworked and overpopulated, the pillars and
pavements chipped and grimy, broken glass patched with cardboard, a frenzy of signs
and rickety adverts. Scraps of plastic and paper chased each other around the
intersections, coke cans winked from drains. They turned left and cruised past, and he
pointed at the side-alley door of the club.
Ariel wished she could wash her civet-itchy hands, and restrained a touch to her
hair. Now, with all the people and the passing lights she felt nervous, unsettled, first
time in the big city. A car spat by behind them and she startled, turning this way and
that. Mosh reached over, pulled her to him and kissed her cheek.
‘Stop it. Watch the road.’
They parked by a butcher shop with a menu in tri-colored chalk on blackboard:
Imbala Kudu Crocadile Blesbok Ostritch Niceley Marinaded! Mosh gearlocked and gave her
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hand a reassuring squeeze. She kissed him and alighted, excited now. Across the street