Ten

By Ray Klerck

It’s 1983 when young Ricky James’s mother mysteriously disappears and he is placed in the care of an uncle he’s never met. Their riverside shack on the African coastline is where he begins a seemingly normal life. However, when he vows to find his mother he’s haunted by a plot of revenge and witchcraft that’s been waged against his family for decades. Forced on an adventure, he has to escape being hunted by a bloodthirsty creature of the deep and overcome his own demons to discover how to fill a hollowness growing in his heart. Will he find his mother, become prey thanks to his love of surfing or expose a far more terrifying truth?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookRix
• Release date: Mar 6, 2018
• ISBN: 9783743858787

Book preview

Chapter 1

I sat bolt upright in bed. A strange feeling I was being watched had woken me up with a fright. As I blinked into the moonlit darkness I wondered why my body seemed to forget to use this sense when I was awake. A dark patch between my legs was warm, yet left me freezing. At ten years old, a long time had passed since I’d wet the bed. I tried to remember when, but couldn’t, then held my breath to listen for a sound of something moving around our house. Only once I was sure everything was dead quiet did I feel brave enough to exhale. I got up and walked to mom’s room. Her bed was still made.

Mum, I said. Mum! I wet the bed.

I ran through the house in my wet cowboy-print-pyjamas, the fabric stuck painfully to my inner thighs. The kitchen? Empty. Lounge room? Empty. Bathroom? Empty. The garage was the last place I could look. As I pulled down gently on the door handle, it echoed through the hollow space where our car should have been. Panic slapped me cold. I walked straight to the phone; it was a place where mom sometimes left me little notes on scraps of paper. The phone wire was tangled from when she’d paced while she talked on it, but there wasn’t a message of any kind. I wished there was someone I could call - there wasn’t.

The two of us had been running for so long I’d forgotten what it was like to wake up in a place and know exactly where I was. Everywhere was always just a stopover, a brief moment I could never make sense of. The hardest part was keeping it all a secret from everyone we met along our journey. And all the while I always had this deep feeling something really bad had to happen for the chase to finally stop.

Mom, I shouted so loudly that the back of my throat throbbed with its own heartbeat.

Silence replied. She’d disappeared a few times before, but always left a little pre-made food in the fridge, a kind of back-soon note with flavour. I switched on the porch light and looked outside. Everything in our street seemed completely normal. Too normal for the way I felt. As I peeped through the curtains, I remembered the nightmare I’d had before I’d woken up. It was a memory far clearer than I’d liked it to be.

In it, my eyes were locked shut as a black whirlpool whipped me round – I was a teeny scrap in a never-ending tornado. I squeezed my eyes tighter and clung to a tiny light I hid inside myself. The black abyss left me no choice as the white teeth yoked to my arm dragged me deeper into an icy vortex. Terrified, I gasped for air, but breathed water. The pain forced my eyes open only to become faced with the snake-like stare. Red borders of an oval shaped eye fell into the darkened middle. Air was frightened from my lungs. As the last crumb of life was being dragged from my chest, a falling sensation jolted my body awake. I wished dreams didn’t mean this much to us.

Now I was awake I was determined to make extra sure nobody was outside our house. After I’d watched the wind howl down our street I changed out of my wet pyjamas and switched on the television. It showed the South African Broadcasting Corporation’s test pattern, the date: the first of January 1983 and time of 3:43am. Mom loved telling me we were always in exactly the right time and place we needed to be in to stay safe – too often it was difficult to believe her.

These flashes of solitude always made me wish I had a brother or sister. Well, anyone else, really. They left me with a hungry lonesomeness, but I’d just have to wait until the morning to feel full again. She’d be back by then. She always was. To get to sleep each night I said my prayers in the same way. I’d start with the things I was sorry for and could have done better then finished with what I was the thankful for. Most of the time I didn’t get to finish saying what I was grateful for before I was fast asleep. This time was no different and I quickly nodded off nestled into the old couch in our lounge room.

The hinges on the front door shook with a thunderous knocking, which woke me up. My eyes squinted at our couch drenched in the morning sun. Mom must have lost her keys, I thought as I opened the door. A short haired woman in a grey suit stood at the door.

Hello little boy, are you Ricky James - is anyone in there with you? she asked all at once while half heartedly trying to peer over my shoulder and get in the door.

She crouched to look in my eyes, while she waited for my answer. I immediately felt a lump growing in my throat, as if I’d somehow been waiting for her for all this time.

Um, yes, but no, I said while trying to close the door. Who are you anyway?

Who I am is not important, she said as she stood tall and held open the door. What is very important is that I’m from the Cape Provincial Administration.

She pointed to a faded gold badge pinned to her jacket.

See, CPA, she said. Regretfully, Miss James – your mother – will not be coming home at this juncture. She is unwell and currently cannot look after you. As such, I need you to go inside and pack some of your things. We’ll send on whatever else you might require.

What, where is she? I said not believing for one moment mom would do anything that meant we wouldn’t be together.

She’s in the Transkei’s Frere Hospital, and unfortunately, will not be coming out for a spell, she said.

She tried to hug me but reeked of wet towels. I quickly pulled back, even though her smell was a perfect for the moment.

No, I’m not going anywhere, I want to see her, I said as I folded my arms. What’s wrong with her, anyway? Why is she in the hospital?

Afraid that will not be possible, she replied. Visitors are not allowed. She has been placed under arrest.

We looked at each other. Neither of us moved. I couldn't, but she simply wouldn’t. I knew mom would never allow this to happen. There was something I wasn’t being told.

Err, but what’d she do? I asked.

I’m afraid I cannot talk to you about such matters, she said. It is very much adults’ business.

Um, but I can look after myself, I told her. You can go now, thank you.

I tried to close the door again but she held it open with both hands.

Sorry, but I will not go away young man, she said. My records state you are just ten-years old. It is against South African law for me to leave you here on your own.

I didn’t want to leave, but the shock of everything made me unsure how to react, so I didn’t. There were thousands of questions bouncing around my head but I couldn’t think of a way to put any of them into words. Defeated, I turned away from the door, slumped my shoulders and looked down at my shadow. The sunlight crying through our front door made it seem much taller than usual, yet I’d never felt so small. I’d been worried about mom before, but this time it felt a lot more serious.

Come on now, young man, she said. Please make it quick. I am extremely busy today. Be a good boy, go to your room and get your belongings together.

She pushed past me. My legs were numb, making me feel as if I’d floated to my room. The back of my neck flushed cold with the same pins and needles I’d felt the night before. Mindlessly, I grabbed fists of clothing and stuffed them into a rucksack. I looked over at my wet cowboy-print-pyjamas scrunched into a corner. They were my favourite, but I’d have to leave them. I couldn’t help wondering if this was everything we’d been running away from.

The lady in the grey suit seemed patient enough to wait, but never smiled. Once my backpack was full, I walked to the doorway of my mom’s room. As I stared at her perfectly made bed it felt as if a small piece in the very deepest part of me had mysteriously become lost. Exactly what part was called, I wasn’t really sure. In fact, I’d never noticed it was there before that very moment but whatever it once was, it was now gone. Without it, I felt too weak to escape the way we usually would and too weak to fight back. The woman in the grey suit placed her hand on my shoulder. It felt incredibly cold.

We really must get going, Ricky, she said. It is quite a long drive to your uncle in Port Alfred and I’ve rung the local police station to arrange the paper work, they are expecting us.

I’d never heard about any uncle, but didn’t care who he was. This new feeling of emptiness was so powerful it left little room to think about anything else. We drove until my stomach ached with hunger and eventually the noise of the car’s tyres bumbling over the gravel woke me up. My head vibrated gently off the vehicle’s window and it tickled the insides of my ears.

We reached the end of a driveway and stopped in front of a building that looked as if it was a cross between a house and a boat. The branches of a huge tree hung above the house’s roof, and a strong-looking old man with shaved silver hair stood at the front door. Despite having so much to see, my attention was drawn to the river flowing behind the house. It was mesmerising enough to forget about the emptiness for a few moments.

This is your uncle Fletch’s house, said the lady in the grey suit as she stopped the car. You have met him before haven’t you?

I said nothing and pushed my forehead against the window to get a better look at the water. She got out the car and opened my door. I almost fell, but my muscles tensed just quick enough to catch me. The memory of the empty garage jolted back into my body.

The man walked up to me and said the same thing everyone says to kids they haven’t seen in a while, Can’t believe how big you are now. Incredible!

Being much shorter than almost ever person my age, I was seldom told I was big.

Sorry to hear about mom, said the man. He paused, She’s my little sister you know.

He stretched out a hand that had a set of stubby fingers

You won’t remember me, but I’m Fletch – your uncle, he said.

I grabbed and let go of Fletch’s callused hand without shaking it or saying a thing.

This is Thomas, said Fletch as he pointed to a fat Jack Russell dog lazing at his feet. And this is Tiki, he said as he pulled a sleeping meerkat from his tracksuit top’s pocket.

I bent down to stroke Thomas, but had never seen a tame meerkat before so thought it best not to reach for it.

He has not said anything since I told him, said the lady in the grey suit. Sure, he might, eventually. Please sign here sir.

She passed several pieces of paper to Fletch and spoke in a whisper that was more than loud enough for me to hear.

He is quite undersized for his age, but aside from a few white spots on his fingernails, my records suggest he is actually reasonably healthy, she said. Amazing, considering the tragic state of Miss James.

Fletch looked confused as he read the paper and signed it. I wasn’t upset about what she’d said, but was still worried sick about how little I was being told about my mother. This was the last place I wanted to be and desperately needed to get back to Mom so we could keep running. If only we could get the briefest moment with each other, we’d be able to run away from this place and people.

Thomas’s ears pricked up. He yelped and scampered towards the river and I bolted after him - any excuse to get away from her repulsive damp stench. Although, they hadn’t realised it, I could still hear every word they said and peered quickly over my shoulder to watch, and listen.

No, no it’s cool, he’s safe here, said Fletch who had seen that the woman in the grey suit was beginning to walk after me.

Right, just a force of habit, that’s all, she said then paused. Well, I suppose that will be all then. Once I have spoken to my superiors, I will return to place him in the appropriate care. I will be staying in Port Alfred tonight, so you can contact me on the hotel’s number if there is any problem. I know just how to deal with this type of child when they misbehave.

Alright then, said Fletch. Err, thank you – I think.

Thomas barked non-stop at a large legavaan lizard swimming across the river. In the excitement, I hardly noticed her car driving off. Despite all the noise, the lizard continued to zigzag its black and yellow body relentlessly against the current to get to us. Moments before it reached the riverbank, Fletch scooped up Thomas.

They’re his arch enemy – the stupid creature, said Fletch, as he belted out a laugh that sounded as though it had been used far too often.

Every smile Fletch had ever made seem to have become etched into his wrinkled skin. Thomas whimpered as the large lizard disappeared into the thick scrub alongside the river.

When he was a puppy, one of them whipped him with its’ tail, said Fletch. It cut his nose and he’s never forgotten. Always goes for them now.

Fletch put down Thomas who feverishly sniffed the riverbank where the lizard had been.

She mentioned you’re not talking very much, said Fletch. That’s cool. Ask anyone - they’ll tell you I talk way too much. How about I do the talking, you do the listening?

Still feeling numb, I dipped my head so slightly it would have been almost impossible for him to notice. Didn’t matter that he was supposedly family, I didn’t know him and wasn’t about to tell him about our lives.

Good, said Fletch. Hungry?

I dealt him another blank look.

Right, come inside, said Fletch. I’ll give you a sniff around the place and we can get a chow.

We walked through the shade of an enormous baobab tree that towered above his house.

People call this an upside-down tree, said Fletch as he tapped the tree’s thick trunk. Its branches look like roots and roots look like branches, don’t you think? Normally, they don’t grow this close to rivers, but sometimes the most beautiful exceptions prove the rules.

His house was an odd oval shape. The top end pointed towards the river. The opposite end pointed towards the tree. Going through the front door we entered an egg-shaped foyer that stretched the length of the entire building. Three doorways led off either side, each opposite to one another.

This trapdoor is for a boatshed underneath us, said Fletch as he jumped up and down on the wooden floors. Half the house is over water - the other half on the land. It was one of the first commercial fish units in Port Alfred.

Fletch strolled into the first doorway on the left – the kitchen. In the middle of the room sat a kitchen bench made of polished railway sleepers. Fish tanks full of live mud crabs and oysters filled the room with the murmurs of flowing water that came from the filters. It even smelled like an ocean.

Take a seat, said Fletch, as he fixed a bar stool to its highest setting. Used to do all the meals on fishing boats. You name it - I cook it.

I offered no reply. His