2.
I had not realised I'd driven over 200 kilometres to Vredenburg. Well, what was I supposed to do here? I drove to the harbour and went to a restaurant overlooking the entrance to the small fishing harbour. The seagulls squawked non-stop hovering over the spoils from the fishing trawlers and tourists. I ordered a meal of fish and chips and settled by the window with a glass of mango juice. I tried to remember if I had ever been to this place before but if I had the memory was escaping me. The waitress almost dropped my plate of food without so much of an apology and instead I got a click of her tongue. Well, this place would certainly not go on my "to visit again" list, that was for sure. The fishI got served was so oily, the oil was visible on my plate as a sauce and the chips had been fried in old oil. At the first bite, I felt nauseated and called the waitress. When I complained she simply shrugged her shoulders and when I asked to speak to the manager, I got told he was not available as he had gone to the bank. I got up and left with the waitress running after me to pay. I gave her my phone number and told her to tell the manager to phone me as I was not going to pay for a plate of oil. She clicked her tongue at me again, rolled her eyes and flew off back to the kitchen. This day was not boding well at all with the flooded visits of my past and now this place. I headed back to the hotel hastily.
By the time, I had showered and changed I was starving and made a beeline for the hotel restaurant as fast as possible.
'Yvaine, Yvaine Wolton, is that you?' a voice called from a few metres in front of me.
Oh no! Who had recognised me and who was also staying at this hotel? I had so hoped this was not going to happen. I looked up and saw a face with a wide smile moving steadily towards me. I had no idea who she was, I had to think quickly, but I couldn't think quickly enough.
'Yvaine, it's me Julia, Julia Feguria.'
I smiled back. I still had no idea who Julia Feguria was, and I racked my brain for the connection.
'Hi,' I said finally, but the blank expression on my face gave me away.
'You don't remember me do you?' Julia laughed still standing in front of me.
'Sorry, I don't,' I cringed as I admitted defeat.
'It's okay; I was a year below you. I married Jonathan Breed. He is going to the reunion, so I get to tag along,' she giggled like an excited little school girl.
'Oh okay. I remember Jonathan. How is he, how are you both?'
I was not inviting conversation but merely being polite, but Julia seemed to think otherwise as she sat herself down at my table.
'May I?' she asked already sitting.
What could I do but nod?
'Jonathan will be here any minute; he forgot his phone in the room.'
She still wore a wide smile as she spoke and she giggled after every sentence. I did not remember anyone so friendly from school.
'Well, I never. Yvaine Wolton, you are looking good girl!'
Jonathan stood next to his wife, who was still giggling and if at all possible even more so now that her husband had arrived.
'Jonathan. Hello, how are you?'
He was as happy as she was and sat himself down too. We went through almost the entire matric class trying to match the faces we remembered to names. I quickly skipped over the names of Dario, Tate and Edie.
When the feared question was inevitably asked, "What happened to you, you just disappeared?" I felt the blood drain from my veins.
There was no running away from it; this would be the first of many times I was going to get asked. I was not ready to explain myself to Jonathan Breed just yet.
'Exactly that. I disappeared!' I took a sip of my coffee.
'So no babies yet?' I changed the subject.
Julia's face practically exploded and immediately her hands affectionately held her stomach. 'First one on the way, due in seven months.'
Maybe that explained their happiness. I feigned fatigued to get out of a long evening of interrogations and returned to the balcony of my room. The balcony of my room faced on the mountain side so that the flow of the water sliding down the mountain slopes were loudly audible and so soothing. I sank back into the comfy recliner, closed my eyes and was asleep in a few seconds. Then I was suddenly back at the shelter…
***
I knocked on the door of the shelter, looking down at the card Constable Pienaar had left for me. My mouth felt like a crocodile had died in it and I could smell my body odour, which was anything but pleasant. I stank like a sewage farm. Somewhere between the last pub I had been at, and getting thrown into the police van I had also lost my shoes so there I stood knocking, as a beggar, a homeless vagabond, a drunk, a junkie and completely lost in my hometown. The door swung open to reveal a big bold woman standing in the door frame. When she spoke her voice sounded like an echo from someone else, it was soft and kind, unlike her frame and features.
'Yes dear, can I help you?'
I had no idea what to say or of the protocol at these places, so I handed her the business card.
'I got it from Constable Pienaar.'
My head hung in shame.
'Well that man is your guardian angel dear, do you have any belongings with you?'
'No, I have a few clothes at the flat I used to live in.'
The words came out so sheepishly, and there was this lump sitting in my throat. As a breeze wafted down the passage, I smelled bacon, and my stomach growled. It had been days since I'd had a good meal so much so that I was dizzy at the thought of it.
'Come on in dear, before you faint on my doorstep.'
'I…Uhm…I don't have any money…' I said before taking a step toward the door hoping beyond hope that this was not to be a problem.
I was so hungry!
'Yes dear, I gathered that. Come in now, I won't hurt you.'
She indicated the way with her hand.
'If I must say you smell really worse for wear, so what do say to a shower first before you sit at the breakfast table? We don't want to be upsetting the other guests now do we?'
I stood in the middle of a large hallway; doorways and passageways led off from it, and the walls decorated with paintings of flowers, very bright red, orange and yellow flowers.
'I will have to get my clothes first.'
I felt like Alice in Wonderland as the walls surrounding me grew larger or I grew shorter and shorter.
'Oh no, no, you're not going to faint on me deary, come and eat first then. You can eat on the back porch, then when you've finished and your blood sugar levels are up you can have a shower.'
She held me up by my arm, and with quick steps walked me to the back porch and sat me down in a chair at a table with a plastic pink checkered cover. A young girl brought a glass of orange juice and put it on the table in front of me. She scrunched her nose and left, and not long afterwards the kind lady returned with a bowl of warm oats.
'No bacon or the like for you at the moment, it will come straight back out. A few days of good old fashioned Jungle Oats and you will be ready for the lekker stuff.' Her smile was so sweet.
'Thank you so much. What is your name?'
'Gretha.'
'Thank you Gretha.'
She left, I lifted the glass of juice to my lips and savoured it as my taste buds delighted in it. My throat was so parched the juice burnt as it slid down. Slowly I took a mouthful of the porridge, and as the substance hit my stomach a savage hunger overcame me, and I almost inhaled the bowl of food. I shovelled spoonful after spoonful into my mouth before I had even swallowed the previous mouthful. The bowl of porridge got consumed in seconds, and so was the juice that washed down the last scoop of much-needed nourishment. I sat back in the chair and waited until Gretha came back for me; a shower would be more than wonderful right now.
Gretha accompanied me to the showers and handed me soap, shampoo and a towel with the assurance of fresh clothes kindly borrowed from another resident. The hot water washed over my filthy skin, and as I lathered soap all over my body, a frantic sensation engulfed me. I started to wipe and wipe, which led to fierce scrubbing but the dirt did not seem to want to come off my body, and mentally I was unable to wash off the urine and vomit that stuck to my skin. The harder I scrubbed the harder I began to cry till eventually I broke down releasing the anguish of my destitution. I dug my nails into my scalp as I tried to scrape off the filth; I scratched and scraped my hair, and then my body, then my hair again, in desperation I cried and wailed and sobbed until my cries were so loud Gretha was summoned to help me. She climbed into the shower and held me, sinking with me to the floor. She wrapped her large arms around me, easing my pain, and at the same time allowing me to release my anguish until I could cry no more.
***
I woke up with the sunrise when I realised I was still on the recliner on the balcony. I had slept through the night there consumed by more of my painful past that I had buried for so long. Why was I going to this reunion? So far nothing good had come from being back in Worcester. The past was just too painful. I kept asking myself why I was here. Why did I have this compelling need to be at this reunion when all it was doing was bringing memories to the surface that I did not want to be exposed? And I most certainly did not want to meet Dario, Tate and Edie ever again, so why, why, why did I have this nagging urge to stay?