lack, the great desire, when he had been there was this very landscape that stretched out before him; how many times had he wished he could see the umbrella of a thorn tree against the gray veld, how he had longed for the earthshaking rumble of a thunderhead, the dark gray anvil shape, the lightning of a storm over the wide open, endless plains of Africa.
Vincent Radebe was waiting for her at the door of the Ops Room and said, ?Ma?am, I will bring in a camp bed for Mrs. Nzululwazi; I realize now we can?t let her go,? and Janina put her hand on the black man?s shoulder and said ?Vincent, I know it wasn'?t an easy decision. That?s the trouble with our work: the decisions are never easy.?
She walked to the center of the room. She said every team must decide who would handle the night watch and who would go home to sleep, so that there would be a fresh shift to start the day in the morning. She said she was going out for an hour or two to see her children. If there was anything, they had her cell phone number.
Radebe waited until she was out before slowly and unwillingly walking to the interview room. He knew what he must say to the woman; he needed to find the right words.
When he unlocked the door and entered, she sprang up urgently.
?I have to go,? she said.
?Ma?am ??
?My child,? she said. ?I have to fetch my child.?
?Ma?am, it is safer to stay here. Just one night?? He saw the fear in her face, the panic in her eyes.
?No,? she said. ?My child ??
?Slow down, ma?am. Where is he??
?At the day care. He is waiting for me. I am already late. Please, I beg you, you can?t do this to my child.?
?They will take care of him, ma?am.?
She wept and sank to her knees, clutching his leg. Her voice was dangerously shrill, ?Please, my brother, please ??
?Just one night, ma?am. They will look after him, I will make sure. It is safer this way.?
?Please. Please.?
Thobela saw the sign beside the road that said only ten kilometers to Petrusburg. He drew a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead, the next obstacle in his path. There was a main route that he had to cross, another barrier before he could spill over into the next section of countryside with its dirt roads and extended farms. It was the last hurdle before the world between him and the Botswana border lay open.
And he needed petrol.
The traffic officer of the Free State Traffic Authority stopped at the office in Koffiefontein. He opened the trunk of the patrol car, removed the Gatsometer in its case and carried it inside with difficulty put it down, and closed the door.
His two colleagues from Admin were ready to leave. ?You?re late,? said one, a white woman in her fifties.
?You didn?'t catch the biker, did you?? asked the other, a young Sotho with glasses and a fashionable haircut.
?What biker?? asked the traffic officer.
Allison Healy found the plot at Morning Star with difficulty. She did not know this area of the Cape; no one knew this area of the Cape. ?When you drive through the gate, the road forks. Keep left, it?s the small white house,? Dr. Zatopek van Heerden had said.
She found it, with Table Mountain as a distant backdrop. And far out to sea a wall of clouds stretching as far as the eye could see hung like a long gray banner in front of the setting sun.
Lizette ran out of the house before she had stopped the car, and when Janina opened the car door, her daughter threw her arms around her theatrically. ?Mamma.? A dramatic cry with the embrace and she felt like laughing at this child of hers in that uncomfortable stage of self-consciousness. With arms around her neck she felt the warmth of her daughter?s body, smelled the fragrance of her hair.
?Hullo, my girl.?
?I missed you.? An exaggerated exclamation.
?I missed you, too.? Knowing the hug would go on too long, that it was as it should be, she would have to say, ?Wait, let me get out,? and Lizette would ask, ?aren'?t you going to put the car away?? and she would say no, I have to go back soon. She looked up and Lien stood on the steps of the veranda, still and dignified just to make the point that she could control her emotions, that she was the elder, stronger one, and Janina felt that her heart was full.
?Mamma,? Lien called from the veranda, ?you forgot to turn off your blinker light again.?
Vincent Radebe carefully closed the door of the interview room behind him. He could no longer hear the sobs.
He knew he had made the wrong decision. He had realized it inside there, with her face against his knees. She was just a mother, not a player; she had one desire, and that was to be with her child.
He stood still a second to analyze his feelings, because they were new and unfamiliar to him, and then he understood what had happened. The completion of the circle? he had finally become what he did not want to be and just now realized he must get out of here, away from this job, this was not what he wanted to do. Perhaps it was something he could not do. His ideal was to serve his country, this new fragile infant democracy, to raise up and build, not to break down? and look at him now. He made up his mind to write his letter of resignation now and put it into Janina Mentz?s hand, pack his things, and leave. He expected to feel relief, but it was absent. He went over to the stairs, the darkness still in his mind.
Later he would wonder if his subconscious had made him leave the door unlocked.
