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‘Hello. This is Bontle’s phone. Please leave a message.’
Annamari peered at the number in the contact list on her cell phone. She was sure she had dialled it correctly. She dialled again, slowly: 074 555 5679.
‘Hello. This is Bontle’s phone. Please leave a message.’
Now what? Annamari knew she should have written the number in her tattered, trusty address book with its faded floral cover. But Thys and De Wet had laughed at her. No one, they said, still used a proper address book.
‘Look Ma,’ De Wet had said, waving her little cell phone under her nose. ‘You enter the person’s name and phone number here; and when you want to phone them, you find their number in your contact list... like this, see? And then you just press this button. That’s it. Easy.’
But it wasn’t. Annamari hated the little phone that seemed to have a mind of its own. However with the real telephone being out of order so often – the copper cables kept being stolen, they said – these fancy cell phones had become essential. It was just as well Vodacom had put up that tower on the koppie, Thys had said. Annamari was less impressed. She could see it, every time she looked out beyond the fields, past the poplars. It was ugly and it didn’t work. Calls were always cut off, right in the middle of a conversation. So Annamari always tried the proper phone first, just to see if it was working, before she resorted to her new Nokia. De Wet said it was the “coolest” phone on the market.
She replaced the real telephone and clicked on Beauty’s name in the Nokia’s phonebook, just as De Wet had shown her.
‘Hello. This is Bontle’s phone. Please leave a message.’
Annamari resisted the temptation to hurl the little device against the wall. She had to get hold of Beauty. This was urgent. They only had another twenty days to respond to that awful, awful letter. Beauty would know what to do, who to contact, even if she wasn’t a proper lawyer yet. Petrus, Thys and her, they had all agreed that it would be best to speak to Beauty before doing anything else. But that had been hours ago, just after she had got back from Driespruitfontein with the letter.
She had rushed down to the school to show it to Thys. He told her to take it to Petrus in the kibbutz office. He would just set some homework for the children, dismiss them and join her there.
Annamari panted into the office. Petrus got up and came towards her from behind the desk, as he always did. Annamari fiddled with her collar as they went through their ritual greeting, asking after each other’s health, their families’ wellbeing.
She held out the letter. ‘Look at this. Do you know this Thabiso Hadebe person? Who on earth are the Schekoera and Moilwa families?’
Petrus took the letter and stared at it. He wiped his glasses on his white handkerchief and put them back on his nose. He squinted at the letter, put it down on the desk and sank into his chair.
‘What does this mean?’ His voice shook.
‘It’s a land claim against Steynspruit. These people – this Thabiso Hadebe and the Schekoera and Moilwa families – they seem to think that Steynspruit belongs to them.’
‘Tjhee! No. No. Steynspruit belongs to you Kleinmissie. And Kibbutz Steynspruit belongs to all of us. I don’t know any Thabiso Hadebe, I don’t know Schekoera or Moilwa. I don’t know ... Missy please. This is our home! They can’t take it away from us, where would we go? What are we going to do? You have to stop them...’
‘We will stop them, Petrus,’ Thys said as he hurried through the door. ‘Please, calm down. It must be a mistake. I’m sure it’s a mistake. We need to deal with this calmly. We mustn’t panic. Come, let’s sit and talk about this rationally.’
But there was nothing rational about it. They talked around and around in circles. Should they tell the other kibbutz members? Thys felt they should. She and Petrus disagreed. What was the point of creating panic until they had explored all their options? Until they understood all the implications. Until they were able to find out who these people were.
‘If we call a kibbutz meeting and ask, perhaps someone will know more,’ Thys said.
‘Rosie was the only person who might have known who these people are. She was born on Steynspruit,’ Annamari said, swallowing the lump that always rose in her throat when she thought of her old nanny.
Petrus rubbed his right hand over his face, covering his eyes, but a tear escaped and leaked down his cheek. ‘Ai, I miss her. But I don’t think even she would know them. I too have lived here always. My father, he was also born here, when your father’s oupa was a boy, Kleinmissie. There was no one by that name. I am sure.’
***
‘Hello?’
At last! After Petrus had confirmed that the number she had been dialling for Beauty was correct, Annamari had continued to try it, continued to get that same, annoying message. Then suddenly, she was through.
‘Beauty, is that you?’
‘MaAnni? How are you?’
‘Beauty, I’ve been trying to get hold of you for hours. But someone called Bontle kept answering.’ Annamari realised she was being rude and abrupt. But she had no time for long, drawn out pleasantries. Not now. Too much was at stake.
‘I am Bontle,’ Beauty said. ‘How are you Mma? How is BabaThys, and De Wet, and Steyn...’
‘What? You’re Bontle?’
‘Yes. Bontle – Beauty – you know.’
‘You changed your name? I don’t understand.’
‘You wouldn’t, MaAnni. You couldn’t. Why are you phoning? Is my mother okay? My uncle?’
Annamari reassured her that Pretty and Petrus were well, as was everyone else on Kibbutz Steynspruit.
‘So is it about the TRC?’
‘The TRC?’
‘The Truth and Reconciliation Commission, MaAnni. Remember? You couldn’t have forgotten that, surely?’
‘Beauty! Of course not. But that’s not for months. No, this is different. And it’s really urgent. We need your help. Or some advice. Perhaps you could ask one of your lecturers or at the law clinic. We’ve just had some terrible, terrible news.’
Silence.
‘There’s a land claim against Steynspruit.’ Annamari paused but instead of Beauty’s expected exclamation of shock, of horror, of anger, of something, the silence continued.
‘Damn, this stupid phone, why does it always do this?’ Annamari said, glaring at it in frustration.
‘I’m still here,’ Beauty said.
‘Did you hear what I said? About the land claim?’
‘Yes.’
‘And?’
‘And what?’
‘I don’t know, Beauty. Can you help us? Tell us how to fight it?’
‘Why?’
Annamari gasped. ‘This is your home we’re talking about.’
Silence.
‘Beauty? Are you still there?’
‘Yes.’
‘What’s the matter? You sound so... What’s wrong?’
‘Oh MaAnni, if you ... you’d never ... Listen, you have to understand. The law clinic here... well, we help the dispossessed. You know – the land claimants against the people who stole their land. So I really don’t think we could assist ...ummm ...people like... ummm.’
Annamari sank down on the couch, her hand shaking. ‘Petrus said we should ask you what to do. It’s from some people we’ve never heard of. And if we don’t fight it... if we lose ...we – all of us – your mother, your uncle, me, Arno and... we’re going to lose our home.’
‘Oh, did my uncle tell you to ask me? Well, okay then. I’ll see ... I don’t know how much...’
‘Oh, thank you. You have no idea how worried we all are. Hello? Hello? Beauty can you hear me?’
Silence.
Annamari glared at the phone.