Sue Rabie’s Boston Snowplough is in the running for the 2009 Commonwealth Writers Prize, in the Best First Book – Africa category. The winner will be announced at the Time of the Writer tomorrow night.
It’s a thriller set in and around the small town of Boston, KwaZulu Natal, which becomes cut off from the outside world by a massive snow storm.
“Into this crisis drives a woman in a sports car and a bus full of local people heading for Harrismith. Their saviour is David Roth, a recent arrival in Boston and the owner of a grader, the only vehicle that can negotiate the snow-clogged roads.” But he doesn’t reckon hitting a few sinisterly-positioned bumps along the way. Here is an excerpt:
* * * * * * * *
Seven
They left an hour after dawn; the snow even deeper than before. They left without telling anybody; not the passengers still asleep upstairs in May’s rooms and not Alex Kyle.
Perhaps it was prudent not to have told him. Perhaps they delayed what was to happen by making that one last trip themselves. But then again perhaps they made things worse by not telling him, by going alone and not taking him along.
David would never know.
He thought about it many times after that, thought about what he could have done differently, about how he could have changed what happened, but looking back he knew that fate would have taken him along the same road no matter what he had done. He had a promise to keep to the people at Elandskrans, had food and wood to deliver. Above all he kept his promises, even though it was this that had brought him here, this that had taken his wife and child away.
‘Please, Daddy,’ Janey had whispered. ‘Please, make it stop . . .’
She had seemed so grown up then. He had felt so helpless.
‘I will,’ he had told her. ‘I promise.’
Just like the promise to the people at Elandskrans.
‘Don’t . . . Daddy, please, don’t . . .’
He quickly shut out the sound of her voice and concentrated on driving the grader. The path he had cleared to Elandskrans the day before was completely obscured, only the tops of the fences, the telephone poles and the occasional tree that lined the route telling him where he was. But they got there eventually.
‘I told them you would come,’ the induna said as he and his son stood beside the grader. ‘Inga had doubts.’
David glanced at the younger man as he shook the induna’s hand. The few people who had gathered to greet them were hunkered deep into their coats.
‘My son owns the taxis that you see down there,’ the induna said, pointing to the two snow-encased vehicles standing beside the huts in the valley. ‘Every day he carries people to the big city. That place has made him mistrust people, but I knew you would keep your word.’
Inga scowled as he went across to the horsebox hitched to the grader and glanced inside.
‘It’s not much,’ David told them, referring to the supplies. ‘It was all I could get for now.’
‘Perhaps it will stop snowing and we will not need more,’ the induna replied.
David hoped he was right.
The induna nodded and signalled the women to begin unpacking the horsebox. ‘Where will you go now?’ he asked.
‘Back to the Werner’s farm,’ David said, looking towards the pass.
‘There are others there and not much food for them to eat.’
The induna nodded. ‘It is the same for everyone now; the whites and blacks alike,’ he said. ‘Soon we will all have to come together under one roof.’
David glanced at the induna who was looking up into the falling snow.
‘I saw it like this once before, when my father’s father was still alive. It came down for two weeks, the white and the cold. When the cattle died the children were put into one room with the last of the wood. My father and another man went to the white man for help, to ask for food and wood.’
David waited, looking at the lined face of the man standing beside him. ‘What happened?’ he asked eventually.
The induna shrugged and turned away. ‘The snow stopped the next day,’ he said. ‘We tore down the wall of the kraal and ate the dead cattle. But I never saw my father again.’
It was a disturbing story and David dwelt on it as the unloading was completed and they made ready to leave once more. He had thought the supplies would be enough, but now he knew that they wouldn’t last, that he would have to come back.
‘If the snow continues I will bring more,’ he told the old man as he made for the grader.
‘You will not eat with us?’ the induna called up to him as he climbed into the cab. ‘You are welcome.’
‘No, thank you,’ David said. ‘You’ll need all you have. We’ll eat at the Werner’s farm.’
They were waved goodbye, the women ululating over the rattle and runt of the grader as it once more made its way past the cattlefold and up the small pass towards the crossroads and the Werner’s farm. The snow was falling thickly again by the time they reached Mark’s home. David drove the grader around the back of the farmhouse, avoiding the front stoep which was almost completely covered with snow that had drifted in from the south.
Anri was there to greet them. She was clearly relieved to see them.
‘I was so worried,’ she said, as Mark emerged from the horsebox. ‘I thought something had happened.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Mark said as he hugged her. ‘We couldn’t come back last night, the snow was too heavy and we were closer to Boston than the farm. Besides,’ he added. ‘I knew there wouldn’t be enough for everyone if we brought them back here.’
Anri looked up. ‘You found them?’
Mark smiled down at her. ‘We didn’t. The induna at Elandskrans did, old M’Kathle Ngubane.’
Anri hugged him again. ‘At least they’re safe,’ she muttered. ‘And you too, both of you. At least you’re home.’
David frowned as he stood watching them hold each other on the top step of the stoep. He had heard something in her voice, something more than concern, fear almost.
Mark had heard it too. ‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing,’ she smiled. ‘I’m just glad you’re here.’
‘No,’ her husband said. ‘Something’s happened. Tell me what it is?’
‘I’m not sure it’s anything,’ Anri told him. ‘Maybe it’s my imagination. Maybe it’s just the tension.’
David looked up at the back door. No one else had come out with Anri to greet them, but he could sense someone watching them from the kitchen window, could sense a presence behind the closed door. He glanced at Anri and Mark and went to let himself in. There were three people in the kitchen. One was the black woman, Miriam. She was sitting at the kitchen table, her hands in her lap and her eyes on David as he entered.
She smiled briefly and then glanced to the right.
David followed her gaze. The second person in the room was Jake. He stood next to the window over the sink, holding the thin lace curtain aside so he could look out over the back stoep at the grader parked there. He was watching Anri and Mark who were still outside. The fleeting expression David saw on his face as he turned from the window was not a particularly pleasant one.
David glanced past him to the person standing at the far side of the room.
Michelle MacFarlane.
She was stirring something on the stove, porridge by the looks of it, her movements slow and easy as the porridge began to thicken. She was concentrating on the pot, her long blonde hair falling forward over her face so that he could only see her mouth. She looked up slowly and he thought he saw her smile.
‘Where is Kyle?’
David turned back towards the question. He didn’t answer straight away.
‘Where the fuck is Kyle?’ Jake asked again, taking a step forward. David felt his hackles rise. So this was the problem. Jake must have been running his mouth off again, upsetting everyone with his short temper and foul language.
‘He’s in Boston,’ he told Jake as he began taking his gloves off.
‘We’ve come back to collect the rest of you and bring food and supplies to Elandskrans.’
‘You left him there?’
‘Yes,’ he said, and turned to take his jacket off.
He shouldn’t have turned his back. Suddenly he was slammed forwards, his breath thumped from him as he collided with the wall.
‘Liar!’ came a snarl in his ear as David was pinned against the wood, a hand forcing his head against the smooth grain. ‘What have you done with him!’
David was momentarily stunned. He had not anticipated the attack, had been caught off guard. He tried to push away, but grunted as the hand curled into his hair and pulled his head back. His right arm was wrenched behind him painfully and he was slammed once more into the hard surface.
‘Hey!’ someone shouted. ‘Jake! What are you doing!’ A woman’s voice. Michelle.
‘Where is he!’ Jake snarled into his ear.
David tried to twist away, but Jake forced his arm higher between his shoulder blades, making him gasp.
‘Let him go!’ Michelle tried again.
She had stepped away from the stove, standing with the dripping spoon in her hand. Miriam was also standing, staring open-mouthed at the assault.
‘Not until I find out where Kyle is!’ Jake spoke to the girl, but all his anger was directed at David. ‘Where the hell is he! What have you done with him!’
David grunted as his cheek was ground into the wood. He struggled to speak, the strain on his neck and the pain in his shoulder excruciating. ‘I told you . . .’ he gasped. ‘He’s with the others . . .’
There was a loud bang of a door behind him.
Mark.
‘Let him go!’ Mark roared.
Jake must have known his violence was misplaced. He snarled at Mark, but eventually did as he was told, though not before shoving David roughly into the wall once more for good measure. David staggered, his shoulder on fire, then spun on his attacker.
‘Leave it, David,’ Mark growled. ‘He’s not worth it.’
David seethed, but kept his anger in check as Jake backed towards the kitchen door. The expression on Jake’s face was savage. ‘He’d better be there,’ he warned them. ‘You’d better take me to him or I’ll make you wish you’d never found us.’
The door opened as he retreated, revealing the slight figure of the boy wrapped in a bulky blanket. He was looking in at the commotion, a slight sheen of sweat on his face and his ebony skin unusually pale against the dark blanket. He had obviously been woken by the noise and had now stumbled into the fray.
Jake glared at the boy, then stormed past him.
The door swung slowly shut.
❄
‘Lord . . .’ Mark muttered as he watched David rub his shoulder. ‘What was that all about?’
‘He does not like you, Mr David,’ Miriam said, as she went across to the boy and took his hand to lead him to the table. ‘And he is also afraid.’ She sat the boy down next to David.
‘Jake? Afraid?’ David asked, glancing from the boy to her. ‘Afraid of what?’
Miriam touched her hand to the boy’s forehead, frowning as she felt heat there.
‘It’s the snow,’ Michelle offered. ‘It’s making everyone jumpy. Perhaps it would be best if you did what he said and took him to the others. At least then Kyle will be able to keep him in line.’
They all agreed with her, but it was Mark who suggested that he tell the others that they should collect their few remaining possessions together and prepare for the trip immediately.
❄
Mark went to prepare the others for departure, Anri and Miriam left with the boy, and David and Michelle stood alone in front of the fire. David unconsciously rubbed at his wrist.
‘Did he hurt you?’ Michelle asked.
David dropped his hand to the table. ‘It was from before,’ he replied.
She touched his hand lightly as if in concern. Her lashes were very long over her deep blue eyes. He studied her fine nose, the way her mouth turned slightly upwards at the corners.
‘When you found me?’ she asked. ‘You hurt yourself when you broke the window of my car to get me out?’
‘I’ll replace it,’ he said. The warmth of her touch on his arm left a tingling sensation.
‘Don’t be silly,’ she said. ‘It’s you whom I can never repay.’
‘It’s nothing,’ he told her uncomfortably. The moment was very intense – her touch, her closeness.
‘It’s not nothing,’ she said. ‘Just like Jake’s outburst is not nothing.’
It was a few seconds before David could respond.
‘What do you mean?’
Michelle tilted her head towards him, her long hair lightly brushing his shoulder. ‘I don’t think he likes you,’ she told him. ‘I think he feels threatened.’
She squeezed his hand as if in solace, but there was a strange smile on her face. Pleading almost. Seductive. Her touch was electric, her blue eyes begging him to protect her.
‘Are you afraid of him, David?’ Michelle asked.
He was taken aback by the question, his mind swirling with mixed messages. ‘I’m not afraid of him,’ he told her. ‘I’m afraid of what he might do.’ Her hand was still resting in his.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I won’t let anything happen . . .’
‘Ah . . . excuse me?’
Mark was back.
He glanced from David to Michelle and back again. David quickly let go of her hand and stood up.
‘The others are getting ready to move out . . .’ Mark said hesitantly.
‘Are you both ready?’
‘Yes,’ David told Mark hurriedly.
❄
‘Fool!’ David breathed to himself as he went outside and busied himself checking the grader. ‘Stupid fool!’ Why had he let her touch him? Why hadn’t he explained the situation to Mark?
He waded though the thick snow around the grader and checked the horsebox to make sure everything was still secure. His fingers stiffened almost immediately as he ran his hands over the chain. He slipped his gloves back on then tucked his hands underneath his armpits to keep them warm as he waited for the others.
He thought about the girl again, about how her touch had sent shivers through him. What about May? Only that morning he had left May’s hospitality behind. Was this girl’s touch so electric that he could forget how he felt about May Jordaan?
Don’t think about it. He longed for the routine of the petrol station and the lack of time it offered to think. Out here there was too much silence, too much to dwell on.
He wished all this was over . . . wished he could forget . . .
A snort from his left.
A horse poked its head out from its stable and nickered softly at him. There were four horses in the stables, the names carefully painted on the doors announcing them as Mowgli, Fats, Annie Bee and Tom. They were part-breeds from what he could tell; strong hardy animals. David walked over and glanced in at Mowgli’s hay net. It was almost empty, and there was a thin coating of ice on the water in the half-empty bucket. David walked down the row and checked the other stables. Fats’s hay net was completely empty. He went into the last stable that passed as a feed and tack room and started refilling the hay nets. He spoke to the horses as he worked, cracking the ice on their water buckets as he hung each net.
‘Everything all right here?’ Mark said, poking his head into Mowgli’s stable where David was tying the last net to the wall. ‘The horses okay?’
‘They’re fine,’ David told him as he gave Mowgli one last pat. He tried to sound casual, as if nothing had happened, as if Mark hadn’t come into the kitchen and found him holding Michelle’s hand. ‘Home and dry,’ he said.
‘Which is what we can be as soon as we leave,’ Mark replied with meaning. ‘Once everyone’s in Boston it’ll be better,’ he continued as he fell into step beside David as they trudged back to the grader.
‘Malan and Du Plessis will take care of the passengers and we’ll finally be rid of him.’
Jake had emerged from the house and stood watching them from the stoep as they walked towards him.
Mark thought David was worried about Jake, was worried about what he would do. Well, David was worried about Jake, was wary of the man’s temper, but in truth he was more concerned about what would happen when they got back to Boston, about where he would find more supplies for the people at Elandskrans. But before he could voice his concerns, Anri appeared on the stoep, a worried look on her face.
‘What is it?’ Mark called out with slight trepidation.
Anri glanced briefly over her shoulder at the house. ‘It’s the boy,’ she said as they approached. ‘There’s something wrong.’
* * * * * * * *
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