Josie and I sat together while the crazed petrol-heads involved themselves with every heartbeat of each race. With every crash or near-crash or even one car’s tyres touching another’s, the spectators, Egan at the forefront, would go berserk and I had never seen this fanatical frenzied side of Marco or Patty either – it was most amusing.
At midday while everyone was finishing off their lunch, the voice over the PA system announced that they would be calling out the winning raffle number and everyone automatically scrambled for their entry ticket.
The number was called out, the crowd was hushed and Josie gave a hesitant grunt, ‘Oh dear, that’s my number.’
Marco jumped up and screamed with joy while Josie went as pale as the white paint on the track.
‘You go,’ she said to Marco and handed him the ticket.
Marco made a very feeble attempt to change her mind before disappearing, ticket in hand, to the track where we watched as he was met by Jason Mitchell. Marco showed him the signed piece of paper and showed him where we were sitting. He waved to us and immediately Egan, Liam and Patty stood up and shouted and waved back while Josie and I sat composedly still.
Marco was kitted out in all the leathers, gloves and a helmet and came back onto the track amidst cheers from the crowd as he got into the passenger side of Jason Mitchell’s car. The car took off, wheels spinning, and I was pretty sure we could all see the smile on Marco’s face beneath his helmet; it was so broad.
The car flew past us going into the corner sideways and then straightening as it came out of the corner. I saw small flames expel from what I presumed was the exhaust pipe. The engine grew louder and louder as the car went past faster at every lap. After the five laps were finished, Jason Mitchell spun the car right in front of us in 360 degree turns, round and round and round until the car was completely engulfed in smoke from the spinning tyres. Egan, Liam and Patty could easily have burst out of their skins from utter elation.
Marco proudly posed for photos with and without Jason and his car before he returned to his seat, embracing Josie not withholding any reservations over what she had given him with a simple ticket. Marco was floating; he was on a cloud of his own still going a couple of hundred miles an hour holding onto every second so as not to forget the exhilarating experience he had just had. He shook hands with all the people around him and gave an in-depth account of his five laps of glory and Egan, Liam and Patty hung onto his every word. Their attention was drawn back to the racetrack at the sound of highly-tuned engines of the even bigger cars making their way around the track. The main race was about to take place and Jason Mitchell was everyone’s favourite for the win.
The race got all the enthusiasts to their feet, in the hope of seeing their favourite car and driver and to share in their victory. After just a few laps, all we could see from where we were sitting was a car flying up in the air at least eight meters high, flinging bits of car parts in all directions. We watched with our hearts in our throats as the car flung itself into a 360 degree vertical spin before it landed on its roof, missing the passing cars by millimetres. The car rested silently while officials ran to the wreck. The race was suspended and everyone stood up again, waiting to see or hear of the driver’s safety and to speculated as to which car it was.
After several minutes there was still no sign of the driver and soon the ambulance and several other safety vehicles had reached the scene of the accident. Spectators became withdrawn and there was a grim silence as we all waited for news. Eventually, after at least thirty minutes news came over the PA system that the driver of Car Number 31 had been removed from the car and would be airlifted to the nearest hospital. What condition he was in was not mentioned but just that the race would continue after the wreck and track had been cleared.
Somehow we felt the race would not be the same. Liam and Egan immediately bent their heads and said a prayer and I held Egan’s hand and bent my head too, as did Patty, Marco and Josie.
After nearly an hour the race was underway again. The spectators’ enthusiasm slowly returned after a few laps, but that fever pitch was never again reached, even when the favourite, Jason Mitchell, won the race. The podium celebrations were cut short and no champagne was sprayed all over the drivers and their crews. The trophies were handed over, photos were taken and that was that.
We left the racetrack feeling very sombre, the air thick and heavy whilst everyone considered the anti-climax and state of the injured driver. No news had been forwarded via the PA system since the restart of the race. There was not one driver, car or crew member to be seen on our way out, which only added to the ominous feeling.
While driving home we heard the news over the car radio – Waylon Stennet, driver of Car Number 31, had succumbed to the injuries he had sustained from his accident. We listened in horrible silence, saddened to the core and horrified that we had witnessed the last breath of life this man had taken on this earth.
11.
I could not sleep that night. The accident that had claimed the life of the racing driver plagued me. How, after a split-second we had no more second chances. Where was he now? Was he going to burn in the fires of Hell or would he have eternal life? My mind was in constant turmoil. If I died today, what would become of me? Did I want to be on fire and suffer the pain that Hell is described as? What would I do about it?
I decided that before leaving for Patty’s on my way to church, I would speak to Dena. Once again I was bitterly disappointed when I walked into her house to find another strange man in her kitchen. At least this time he was older than she was, or so I thought. I couldn’t help but wonder where she found them.
Dena came waltzing into the kitchen when I was almost out the door. She called me back to introduce me to the gentleman. I told her about the accident and how it was making me reconsider my life. Her reply was, ‘You have been hanging around those churchy guys for far too long.’
I stared at her in disbelief, could she really be that callous? Even her date just stared at her as I left without uttering another word.
Marco, Josie and Patty were in the same sombre mood as we sat at the kitchen table having coffee and cereal before leaving for church.
‘It doesn’t help to sit and think about it and think where we would want to end up; we need to act on it. So I don’t know what you girls want to do but Marco and I spoke about it last night and we are going to speak to Minister Wade after church about getting baptised.’
She ended her speech and stared at Patty and me, opening her arms towards us, welcoming us to embrace her. We both did. Patty and I looked at each other and with unspoken words agreed it was what we too had decided on but just needed to have affirmed. Before leaving the house both Patty and I phoned Liam and Egan respectively and both got their voicemails and left the exact same message for each of them – that we had something to tell them before church.
Their curious and confused expressions provided the much-needed humour to make light of what had begun as a disturbing day.
Patty and I said out loud together while Marco and Josie stood by smiling, ‘We all want to get baptised today.’
Egan and Liam exclaimed with joy, giving high fives and hugs to us all and rushing us off to speak to Minister Wade before service began.
Not wanting to make a big occasion of it, we decided that we would be baptised in the sea at Bikini Beach, where Patty and I had spent that wonderful afternoon with Egan and Liam a few months back. The harsh words from Dena when I had told her of my decision still hurt. Was it too much to ask of her to be happy for me? Was it too much to ask her to consider Jesus?
Egan and I floated on lilos in the pool next to each other, my body drenched in sunscreen. He reached over with his hand, smoothing my wet hair from my face.
‘Don’t worry about your mother; all you have to do is plant the seed – whoa!’ Egan’s voice bellowed before he could end his sentence as he toppled over and pulled me with him into the water.
It is a foregone conclusion that lilos are untrustworthy, unpredictable and unstable. Make too much movement on them and you are likely to land up underneath them rather than lying on top of them.
We spluttered our way to the surface laughing and wiping the water and hair from our faces. Egan was apologising unconvincingly, while pulling me toward him as we kicked our legs in the water to stay afloat and upright. This time an apology would not cut it. I dug my hands with downward pressure quickly and sharply into his shoulders until he sank below the surface, then I swam away in haste so as to not be within an arm’s reach when he resurfaced. He came up breaking the water surface with a facial expression that had revenge written all over it. It was my turn to shriek as I tried to make my getaway. I felt his fingertips slide across my ankles, his Irish laughter right behind me. I put my feet down and touched the bottom of the pool now able to run the last few paces before reaching the steps. Clambering out of the pool and to the safety of Josie, I hid behind her, laughing as I soaked her with a bear hug.
Men always stick together, that was a lesson I should have learnt the first day we met at Bikini Beach. A pair of strong arms lifted me over a shoulder in one swoop, my feet swinging out from under me. At the edge of the pool Egan took my arms while I still hung over Nathan’s shoulders. Then Nathan held onto my ankles and the two of them swung me sideways over the water and back over the paved edging of the pool and counted to three. At three, I was airborne at least two feet, flying above the water when at last gravity kicked in and I fell towards and through the water spraying a couple of litres out of the pool, my scream dying as the water took its place in my throat.
When I had recovered enough to make all sorts of threats to the perpetrators, I couldn’t help but succumb to Egan as he stood at the steps of the pool with a towel and his Irish smile, apologising once more through his thick Irish laugh. Nathan stood not too far behind him, begging forgiveness too, although not as convincingly. Patty was crying she was laughing so much.
Hmmm, so much for an alliance in her.
I looked to the other ladies and found that I was alone in this battle as they were all bent over with laughter.
As the day progressed and we sat under the lapa listening to Egan and Liam playing their guitars, we sang songs and generally had a jovial afternoon.
Patty wondered out aloud, ‘Should we go to the beach? Why don’t we just get baptised here, I mean everyone is here already, except Minister Wade?’
There was a hum as everyone discussed what she had just said and no sooner than later it was agreed upon that it was to be here and not at the beach. Liam phoned Minister Wade and it was not half an hour later when Minister Wade, his wife Jackie and their daughter Natasha, arrived at the house.
While we mentally prepared for the baptism, Minister Wade confirmed what we were about to do and we affirmed our understanding and commitment. We all made our way to the edge of the swimming pool and stood in a circle around it, holding hands. Liam led us in a prayer asking God to accept us into His Kingdom and to guide us as we walked His path in righteousness.
We got into the pool, the water a vast degree colder than it had been at midday. It took my breath away as it reach above my thighs, then up to my waist, forcing me to take short deep breathes to adjust to the cold.
Minister Wade asked us all the same questions individually before immersing us each below the water surface so that our bodies were completely submerged in the water.
Do you understand the plan of salvation?
Do you repent of your sins?
Do you accept Jesus as your Saviour?
We came up renewed; our lives would start new, fresh and with the Holy Spirit guiding us.
Jackie waited with towels as we exited the pool and little Natasha had a gorgeous smile and a plate piled high with cookies. Once more we stood in a circle holding hands and Minister Wade prayed, welcoming our souls to God’s family.
I could only speak for myself as to how I felt at that moment even though the others said they felt the same way when they were baptised. I felt a sense of relief. I had a feeling of just being, that I finally belonged to a family in this universe that would always stand by me. I had an overwhelming feeling of completeness and an enormous song of gladness in my heart.
All I wanted to do was scream from the rooftops for everyone to hear that I was saved and that God was my Saviour. If it were possible for anyone to have a smile and a heart happier than mine at that moment, it was Egan. He had been instrumental in my salvation and it meant that now we would never be unevenly yoked.
12.
On my way to work the next day, everything seemed so much brighter and clearer. Even Dena’s verbal abuse of the previous night, on hearing of my baptism, could not dampen my renewed spirit.
‘All you can do is pray for her and show her the way by being an example of God’s glory,’ Egan had said, after witnessing her yelling.
I took courage from him as he had smiled at her and said a polite goodnight to her. It had infuriated her even more.
While my mundane workday pressed on, I couldn’t help but examine the faces of my fellow colleagues. They looked lost and worried. I knew that I was still a baby and needed more spiritual food to mature as a Christian and that I was not to judge anyone, but I saw the world and all its inhabitants in a completely different light now.
I wanted to tell everyone I passed, ‘Do not worry, God has a plan for you.’
Finally Alice popped into my office and I could tell someone my most excellent news. I told her all about my weekend, the unfortunate accident at the racetrack, my decision to be baptised, Sunday afternoon and the moment that had changed my life. She listened curiously, not once being condescending as Dena had been, and I felt confidence grow in me.
Not everyone is Dena, I thought to myself.
Trey walked past my office, noticed Alice and me talking, then immediately back-pedalled to stand squarely in the doorway.
‘What’s going on? Aren’t you supposed to be working?’
‘It’s our lunch hour,’ Alice answered quickly and in a manner which required no reply from Trey or me.
He raised his eyebrows and left. Alice and I just laughed as we went on with our conversation. She was mostly interested in my decision and asked me what had finally made me decide, where I had studied and with whom I had done the studying. And of course she could not resist finding out more about Egan. I glowed as I eagerly satisfied her curiosity. We sat in my small office which consisted of a desk and a shelf that stood from the ceiling to the floor and which could not breathe for the sake of the files packed onto it. The wall that was not occupied was bare. Not even a single photo or office memo graced it. Planting herself with her back against the wall, Alice’s short, extremely slender shape with her dark complexion hung on the wall like a shadow. Her jet black hair made the shadow look even more like an illusion.
‘I used to go to church but since I started going out with my boyfriend Fred, I don’t go anymore because he doesn’t like it.’
I felt sorry for her as I could relate to her with regards to Dena.
‘If there is one thing I learnt in the studies and after that accident at the track, we never know when our last day will be, and the question is, will we be ready?’
Before our lunch hour was up, I told Alice about my relationship with Dena and her reaction to my baptism.
‘She, fortunately, is not the one that has to answer for me one day. I will stand alone before God on the Day of Judgment. Liam emphasised this so many times during our studies.’
I hoped I did not sound as if I was judging Alice in any way, and she left to go back to the sales department with the indication that we would continue with our discussion soon.
It was wonderfully exciting to talk to Alice, whom before today had not really befriended me. I texted Egan to tell him what had transpired.
His reply was simply: ‘God works in amazing and strange ways, perhaps you are the instrument God will use to rescue her soul.’
My heart fluttered, Egan being so close to me even if it was through cyberspace sent my heart racing with happiness.
I noticed Trey walking towards my office and quickly grabbed my pen, stared at the papers in front of me and with great speed, tucked my cellphone under my legs. He stood in the doorway again, his arms full of papers. His thinning blonde hair exposed the stress lines around his almost black eyes. He had a sharp nose, which although unusually big, suited him. He was taller than me by a few inches but kept a hunched posture which made his nasty character all the more nasty-looking. He always looked as though he was about to pounce on anyone who walked by him. He wore braces instead of a belt and his shirt was always sloppily half-tucked into his pants in a very annoying fashion. Whenever I was walking behind him I always had the urge to tuck it in for him.
‘Don’t take your lunch in the office Vanda, it gives the impression that you are chatting instead of working,’ and with that he simply walked away.
My good mood diminished for a few seconds until I heard him curse so loudly that the entire building heard him as he dropped all the papers he’d been carrying.
I giggled to myself, said a quiet, ‘Good karma,’ and carried on with my work.
As I left the office to make my way home, the sun still shone warmly, even though autumn was starting to arrive.
I texted Egan: ‘Meet me @ the tower clock on beach after work stunning sunset,’ then started my car, put the hood down and embraced the drive.
At the first robot I checked my phone for Egan’s reply, it read: ‘The group all coming for sunset that okay?’
As I was already wearing a pair of summery three-quarter pants and a light shirt with flat sandals, going home to change was not necessary, and I was at the beach within fifteen minutes.
Parking at a spot closest to the huge tower clock that stood tall and had obediently kept the correct time for centuries, I sat on the little wall that separated the sand and the paved walkway. I’d left my shoes in the car, and wiggled my toes into the sand that still felt warm under my feet. I could already feel my skin tingling at the touch of the sun on it. I did not have any sunscreen on me or in the car, and just hoped that the setting sun would not be hot enough to burn my sensitive skin. Mr Drake, for one, would not appreciate another meeting interrupted by my continuous scratching, the last episode of that had been bad enough with him threatening to scrape my skin off with a chisel should I not cease the scratching. Just another ordinary day in the Drake line of insults.
My thoughts were gladly interrupted by a kiss on my cheek, arms being wrapped around my shoulders, sparkling grey eyes and an Irish smile.
‘Hello, you’ve been waiting long?’
Not that he wanted a reply as he planted the next kiss firmly on my lips, lingering, welcoming and desiring before slowly releasing my lips from his. If I didn’t go completely squint from sheer delight, it would be quite an achievement. The others joined us and, as expected, it was not long before the lads were playing touch rugby while we ladies sat on the little wall chatting about our day, our lads and our lives.
I mentioned my lunch with Alice and asked the others for advice on how to broach the subject again. Katrin mentioned a ladies’ breakfast that the young adults’ group would be having soon and that I should perhaps invite her. As we discussed the matter further, the sun began to go down and our lads joined us. The conversation about Alice was immediately reverted to cars when a very sporty red car drove past, sending all the petrol-heads into a frenzy.
We cherished one another as we watched the flaming orange ball sink into the ocean through a bright red sky. It was a spectacular sunset.
13.
All the staff members of Luxous waited anxiously in the main conference room stuck way back on the first floor. The building consisted of two floors, the ground floor the factory and the first floor the offices. Some days the floors and walls would vibrate from all the heavy machinery being used at the same time. The conference room adjourned the kitchen and our staff relaxation room although it remained a mystery as to why it was called that, as relaxation was not an option in this environment. The first floor was divided up into offices for the different administration sections by badly painted and grubby dry walling. This meant the office was not very soundproof, which enabled everyone to hear the rantings and ravings of Mr Drake and Trey in their offices on a daily basis.
Like me, no one kept personal mementos on their desks or walls for fear of them being rudely discarded by the monster bosses. I contemplated the idea of putting a photo on the bare wall in my office and decided that I would take the risk. The idea of making a collage of our baptism photos came to mind, and I thought it might also encourage Alice.
The monster bosses walked into the dull and unwelcoming conference room in unsurprisingly bad moods. They had already been at each other’s throats for whatever reason and so there we sat, easy targets for them to vent their frustrations on.
My skin began to itch.
Trey sat down in his usual chair, Mr Drake threw his files on the table and remained standing, taking deep breaths.
My skin continued to itch.
He was a greasy-haired overweight old man who reeked of cheap cologne. His most prominent feature was his whiskey nose. It was commonly known as that by all the staff members because of its redness. Whether he did partake in an abundance of whiskey no one knew, but the name stuck.
The production line manager, Jim, was first in the firing line. He got a blasting that shook the walls for an order that had not made the deadline. He sat calmly and quietly while Mr Drake yelled with pointed fingers and when he had the chance to speak, he stood up and calmly said, ‘I quit.’
He threw his letter of resignation at Mr Drake which he had written that morning in anticipation, and walked out.
I wanted to scratch my shoulder so badly.
There was a deathly silence in the room; no one dared to utter a breath never mind an actual word. We sat glued to our chairs begging them not to squeak. Mr Drake opened his mouth and we all cringed. Who was going to be next?
‘Just get out of here, all of you. Get out of my sight you useless bunch of so-called employees. You make me sick, the lot of you.’
He picked up his files and left. We all waited until he was gone before we got up and gingerly left the room.
J