“His
autism has always made him prone to these kind of people-predators,” Lauren
said with guilty eyes. Those eyes longed
to be subdued by the views of her new fiancé.
“I should have known better than to leave him alone so much. He needed my guidance. I didn’t think…It was just that you and I
were making so much progress with our work, making a difference in
society. We really are helping these
animals live alongside civilization. It’s
the kind of thing I always wanted to do.
My heart was so in it. In America
I never felt able to help humanity on such big levels.”
“You’re the bestest sister Lauren, you are.” Dereck’s thick South African accent hadn’t
lost its charm on Lauren. His tone rang
with exotic rationality. “All this, all
this that’s been going on with Jack, it’s not your fault, ok. He’s a simple ou. He doesn’t understand things the way you and me
do. He’s a good guy, you know, always
looking for the best in people. But
that’s exactly what makes him vulnerable to them. He’s exactly the kind of bloke they choose to
do their dirty work. Preying on the
vulnerable, it’s what they do.”
“Like really though, how have they managed to convince
him that baboons, these wild animals, are actually people? And what’s worse for
me is like, he knows that we work
with them every day, it’s what we do!
I can’t believe how he’s distrusting me.
He was never like this in the States.
I shouldn’t have brought him here.”
“Well like you say, his autism makes him vulnerable for
one. It’s not right how they using him
as their puppet. I’m not saying we
should do nothing about this – there’s bound to be some sinister plot beneath
their antics and we’re not going to let these quacks get away with it. We’ll put an end to this. We’ll show him the facts. For now though, I don’t want you blaming
yourself. Ever since you came to Cape
Town you’ve felt guilty about Jack. He’s
a grown man, and it’s good for him to learn consequences for his actions. If we keep rescuing him, we’re just enabling
his dependency on other people. Let the
media have their field day, what’s the worst that can happen? I can’t believe they’re making so much out of
it. What, have they run out of murders
to report on? Doubt it!”
“You’re right. I
know. I suppose people feel sorry for
him. He’s making such a fool out of
himself though, and of us too. I can’t
stand that Sangoma! Go pick on one of
your own people and dupe them with your pseudo-science; leave my brother alone!”
“Ja, I know what you mean. Maybe your brother wanted it though. Phil said so, and he has a Masters in
Behavioral Science.”
“Well Phil doesn’t know Jack. My brother is…”
Just then there was an urgent knock at the door and one
of their co-workers came plummeting into the room.
“Dereck, Lauren, the press is outside. Your brother,” he said, tilting his head
sideways at Lauren, “is on his way over here and it’s all gonna be broadcast
live.”
“This is our chance to set the record straight,” Dereck
said straight-faced as he got up from his chair, knocking it over, “We are the experts here, and it’s about
time the media acknowledged that. I’m
going out there now before Jack and his clan get here. Come with me Lauren.”
“I don’t know Der, I don’t want…” She got up and trailed behind him anyway.
He plunged through the heavy front door, the dominant
south-easter wind bellowing in Lauren’s face.
A roar of questions was ignited from the growing crowd when they saw
Dereck was ready to talk. He seemed to
have forgotten about Lauren now, and the door almost slammed back into her
shoulder, but she caught it with her left foot.
Immediately the black balls of microphone were puffed into their
faces.
“Mr. Hendrick. You
have been involved in creating conservation areas for these animals for over 10
years now. What is your response to the
growing accusations that the so-called baboons are actually people and that the cultural stereotypes
your organization has been spreading are the reason behind their segregation?”
The absurdity of hearing their argument left his mind in
a stupor for a moment, before he retorted: “Absolutely ridiculous
proposition! Human?! Our scientific community is stunned by these false
rumors.” He was into the flow of what he
had rehearsed in his mind now. “Rumors
that started, and have been perpetuated, by one local Sangoma – a witchdoctor,
people. A witchdoctor! Western medicine
has long known that the practices of these imposters are nothing short of
primitive superstition.”
“But your fiance’s brother, Mr. Hendrick, a Jack Walker,
is an American who was raised in the west and insists that he was given some
kind of eye-opening substance that allowed him to see passed preconceived
concepts. He is reported to be on his way
now with a sample of that substance. Do
you deny Jack Walker’s claims? And what
about the exponential increase in similar reports around the city since he began
his vocal protest marches a week ago?”
“That Sangoma has preyed on the vulnerable and simple,
and he continues to do so. As for
Walkers, I have no further comment on the personal nature of these enquiries. Now let me tell you what we have been doing
here at NatureCorp to ensure the well-being of these creatures…”
Lauren
turned her face away from the glint of the cameras. “Come Dereck,” she whispered quietly, “let’s
not give them more fuel for the fire.” But
he was in the middle of his marketing campaign – she’d heard him rehearse this
part before. With downcast eyes, and her
shoulders speaking a blend of anxiety and limp helplessness, she turned her back
on her South African lover and scanned the horizon. Nothing.
She turned back to walk into the office when something caught her
attention.
That’s
when she saw the shadow on the hills behind the building – the opposite
direction of where she (and apparently the media) had thought Jack was going to
make his entrance from.
Shivers
originated in her neck and shot up her spine.
The peculiar silhouette of her brother was unmistakeable. Jack! Her
world spun around until, from a great distance, his innocent brown eyes met
hers, and injected them with life.
She moved briskly around the crowd, maneuvering around
the pushing bodies head down, trying not to detract attention from her fiance’s
spotlight. Over in the Fynbos shrubbery
on the far side of the hill, her brother was leading a group of about 8 black
people. He and an ornately dressed caped
figure were ahead, whilst the others trailed a few steps back, playing handmade
guitars, bongo drums, and tambourines.
She was surprised she hadn’t heard the music earlier; it was pervasive
now. Whyh did the media seem oblivious
to it?
She
didn’t allow herself time to think about that now. She hadn’t seen her brother since she got
engaged to Dereck. Jack had retreated
into the black shanty towns to live amongst the people who revered him as “The
Big White Eye”. Lauren had tried to
discourage it, but she understood. In
his own culture he was pitied, ridiculed.
He sensed it each time, despite outward appearances. There he was acknowledged, respected. She could see the effect that had had in his
walk. Now he had a purpose, and it
exuded through the vigor of his stride as he tossed his chubby legs into
determined running paces toward her now.
“Jack!” It seemed
like no time had passed until they were locked like puzzle pieces in a cushy
embrace. “I’ve missed you so much! I was worried…” Her emotion subsided into
logic and she had questions: “Why has your phone being going to voicemail? What have you been living on all this…”
“My Laurie! My
Laurie! Shhhhhhhh…” Jack dragged out the sound far longer than
she thought he needed to, but his eyes softened her hardening rational gaze. “You’ll see now, now you will see. Look, I brought some for you, see? Close your eyes now.” He pulled an old green beer bottle from a
plastic box that had been strapped to his belt.
“Jack, no! You
don’t know where that’s been. Don’t put
that on me, get back in your box…I mean, put it back in its box. I’m not
risking losing my vision cos of that unhygienic…”
Jack had been fumbling his podgy fingers around the
bottle neck, haphazardly ripping pieces of masking tape off the top of it until
the opening was free of obstructions. Without
response, without hesitation, he tossed it straight at Lauren’s face. His hand frantically made hasty gyrations of
the bottle, flinging opaque honey-colored liquid everywhere. Most of it flung on either side of Lauren’s
face, and large dollops dribbled off the sides of the bottle. But he distinctly saw a torrent of it land in
her left eye, and that should be enough.
He stopped.
“Ahhh, Jack!! You
got it in my eye!” She rubbed frantically and started backing up in lopsided
paces towards the facility.
“Laurie wait, just wait a few seconds - 3, 4 seconds
Laurie.”
Still rubbing her eye with her sleeve, she turned and
started jogging towards the lab now.
Jack’s stubby legs hastened around her and stopped directly in her
path. “Hug!” he blared. She bumped straight into him, hard, struggling
for a half second before his familiar musty smell took her right back to when
she had held him after their father died.
She had done this to them; she had decided to leave America for
this job, and she was the one who had
spent so much time being intoxicated with Dereck and his managerial pursuits
that she had blurred her brother right out of her focus. Tears gathered behind clenched cheeks.
“Now Ulwazi!” Jack bellowed while increasing his grip on
Lauren. And then to his sister he said gently,
“Laurie now you’ll see; now you’ll see Laurie.”
The caped man yelled some commands in Xhosa and then
wobbled his way over to the siblings, beaded head-dress tinkling to his
movements. When he was within
armslength, Jack spun his sister around on her heels and held her limp arms
firmly against her sides, hugging her from behind in a loving restraint. “Now look Laurie!”
There, standing on its hind legs, was a baboon, with no
leash, no muzzle - free from restraints!
Lauren gasped and pushed back into her brother in an escape
attempt. “Jack it’s dangerous! Let me go!”
“Look at his eyes Laurie,” he said.
And
she did. Beneath a furrowed brow sat sad
eyes, deep eyes. Lauren relaxed her
shoulders when she saw the animal was placid.
She felt an inclination to hug it, and Jack’s firm embrace softened as
if in response.
Her
left eye started stinging and she bent her head down to wipe it on her
collar. As she moved her head downward,
she noticed for the first time, out of her peripheral vision, that the animal
was wearing colored cloth. Clothes,
basically. She abandoned her attempt as
wiping her eye and flung her gaze into the animal. It was standing open armed now, as if ready
to embrace her hug. A fuzzy memory of
seeing someone similarly dressed soon after she had stepped off of the plane from
America tickled her consciousness. That
person had waved to her, she thought.
Her nostrils once again filled with the dry South African air, as it had
that first time. They flared.
Her vision went dizzy, flashing. She at once recognized the person in the
animal standing before her! Washed
paradigm. She did a double-take,
stooping her head down. But her vision
flashed again and an untamed baboon was standing on its hind legs, in an
aggressive posture. Dereck’s voice and
her education began generating random facts about their species: “Infanticide
is a common practice amongst…vicious if provoked…known to raid the cars of
tourists…” Fear again crept up her
spine, waking her up.
“Loosen
your grip Jack!” she yelled in mounting panic.
“Get a grip Lauren,” he promptly
returned. She paused at his unexpected
reply.
“You’ve
already got one strong enough for both of us, and it’s hurting me; now let me go!”
“I
want to share with you,” He slackened
his arms slightly and she pushed him aside, making an unabashed run for it.
“Oowahoo!” the animal cried from behind her. It sounded frightfully close. In her mind’s eye she could see its reared
fangs.
“Lauren!” Jack screamed after his fleeing sibling. And then, turning to the sangoma, he yelled,
“It didn’t work on her; why didn’t it work?!”
Clanking robes engulfed him and the smell of mud mingled
with strong arms to overwhelm his senses.
Ulwazi wrapped hisself around the boy, “Hush child.”
Tears
of frustration were filling both siblings’ eyes simultaneously – the way one
twin can experience the reality of the other.
The mutual experience was thwarted at shared frustration due to free
will’s blockade. A person’s
ideosynractic viewpoint results not from the senses, but from the heart. Jack was beginning to understand this; it was
what Ulwazi’s embrace was communicating.
It was dawning on him that he had suspected his sister would react like
this all along. She was too smart for
her own good. He sniffed, nostrils
flaring.
“Why didn’t the potion work Ulwazi?” he felt obligated to
ask.
“Child dat poshan is just the barley water. It was for you, not for her. Your eyes were what we came here to give to
yoh sista. Yoh eyes was where the power
lied – the power to make her see. Give
her time, child. Light dawns slowly
sometimes so that it doesn’t blind a hurting person. Come now, we go.”
When Lauren had reached the safety of the facility
entrance, she finally felt the courage to look back. Nothing was chasing her; on the contrary,
pursuits of the heart have to themselves be chased. Dereck embraced her with rational arms. Together they watched two baboons slowly
prance over the hill towards the horizon, the musicians behind them playing
their silent song.
