The next morning, everyone woke up at dawn. David and the researchers had spent the night in a lodge frequented mainly by hunters on their way to Waterberg National Park, whose astonishing beauty is forever linked to the historical final battle between the Germans and the Hereros. It had not been a comfortable night for the young priest—the lifetime of the mattress springs had long ago expired, but his soul had been the real root of his discomfort. Having left Marie without a proper answer the night before only increased his feelings of emptiness.
The cold morning breeze and the first rays of sunshine, however, made packing the luggage and equipment for the next part of the journey easier to bear. Seated at the open window in the back seat of the repaired Toyota, David stretched his legs as best as he could, rubbed his face, and tried to keep his eyes open. While driving at high speed, he noticed how the acacias were suddenly grouped, making the landscape seem less inhospitable. And as the two identical Toyotas sped out of Grootfontein towards a distant horizon, David remembered Ireland and all that separated him from Newcastle West. He did not feel any regret. The icy wind on his face numbed the discomfort as well as his thoughts.
By his side, with his head resting on David’s shoulder, Jack slept. Marie did the same, leaning her long blonde hair on Jack’s. She was, however, wide awake. Benjamin and Edward sat in the front, like dolls in a vitrine. Fifty-five kilometers later, the cars left the asphalt and drove onto a gravel road that would carry them for another 220 kilometers and more than three hours to their destination.
Marie straightened her head at the first bump on the gravel road. “I think the priest is feeling cold. Ben, you did not fix the window?”
“If I had solved the window problem, I wouldn’t have had time to fix the ignition,” said Benjamin with his superb logic.
Marie reacted by completely straightening herself in her seat and tying her hair up in a high bun. Edward turned his head quickly to register Marie’s reaction, fixing his gaze on the tightly symmetrical lines of the young woman’s face a little longer than seemed necessary.
“Prepare yourself, David. At night the temperature will fall below zero degrees Celsius,” added Jack, who had returned to the world of the living.
“I cannot stand this weather. Hellish heat during the day and the other extreme at dawn,” said Edward.
“Where are you from, Dr. Freeman?” David asked.
“Good question, David. Ed is from Missouri,” Marie said. “It’s one of the North American states that suffers most from harsh weather. He shouldn’t be complaining.”
Two hours later, the leading car with Andreas at the wheel came to a stop. As he stepped out of the car, David’s legs felt lifeless and disoriented, just as they had after his long flight a couple of days before. Seeking to recover control over them, he walked around in circles for about ten minutes. When he stopped, the surrounding vastness engulfed him. Everything in the savannah was majestic. The trees were sufficiently spaced so that each of their shadows could be appreciated. And their canopies were sparse to allow mottled light to reach the ground, enabling a continuous layer of grass to grow underneath them. David thought the environment to be very monastic; nothing seemed to be exaggerated or to exist beyond what was necessary.
If on the surface the Kalahari did not quite meet his expectation of a desert, a bigger surprise came from above. The blue was both infinite and overwhelming. In fact, he could not recall a brighter day in his life. The landscape created an altogether harmonious impression. The rocks spoke to him even louder than the timid vegetation. In his immediate surroundings, he saw Jack sitting under the shade of an acacia, deep in thought. He wanted to approach him but noticed that Marie was sitting in the same position under another acacia, with her hands on her knees and her back straight. Out of deference to the environment, David almost did the same but decided against it.
Nearby, Benjamin and Andreas were busy improvising a “braai,” the Afrikaans term for barbecue. There was only one item on the menu, springbok meat, but it was so delicious that it made them forget the limitations of the place. “This is amazing,” David said. “It tastes like filet mignon!”
The antelope meat quieted their stomachs and cheered their conversation. Only two mouths refused to speak. Benjamin and Edward observed silently, while the comments, laughter, and questions of the others ran over them.
“What do you intend to find in this corner of the world, Father?” asked Andreas, with his right index finger circling in the air.
“I asked the same question yesterday,” said Marie. “I don’t know if he will give you an answer.”
David immediately cast a glance at Jack, like a castaway throwing a message in a bottle into the sea. His new friend only smiled at him, raising his eyebrows.
“I try not to ask myself that question. I fear that the answer will only make the journey more difficult,” replied David.
“It’s certainly not a spiritual challenge. You’re a priest; you don’t need to come all the way to Africa to find needy souls,” said Andreas.
“But I think I know what he means.” Marie’s words surprised everyone.
“And what is that?” asked Andreas.
“He’s not here to catechize us—so you can all be at ease,” Marie smiled openly, revealing a perfect set of teeth. “He’s not interested in us, Andreas. Father Callaghan came here on a personal journey, even if he still hasn’t worked out the full itinerary yet.”
“Saying it like that sounds selfish,” said David. “I genuinely wish to help you with your project.”
“I’m sure you do. But be careful, Father, you are stepping on profane ground,” said Marie, pointing to the others.
“We’ve had other volunteers before, but I think David’s contribution will be special,” said Jack.
Andreas got up and walked toward the improvised table in search of a snack. “I have great relations with the gods, Father, but if you discover something that I don’t know, please do me a favor, and keep it to yourself. I already have too many demons eating my brain. There isn’t much space left for metaphysics.” Andreas returned to his place balancing a cup of coffee and cookies in the same hand. “But don’t worry. Dr. Steensen’s ears are far more receptive than mine.”
“Andreas, I’m sure that Father Callaghan’s contribution to our expedition will yield concrete results, without needing to transcend reality,” said Jack.
“Mr. Elliot...,” Andreas began, bowing in mock deference. “I’m only afraid that if David has an erudition similar to yours, you will both be responsible for the rebirth of ancient Greece in this desert. We need certainties, no more philosophy,” concluded Andreas.
“I assure you, my education in philosophy will remain safely tucked away in my thoughts. I have no ambition to preach in the desert,” said David, smiling at Andreas.
“Father Callaghan will help us with the systematization of data,” added Jack.
“He will work directly with you and Marie then. Well, I wish you the best of luck!” said Andreas, shaking David’s hand with the strength of a rhinoceros.
Dr. Ecklund was a tall man with broad shoulders, a long and pointy chin, slightly long gray hair and blue eyes that always turned red in the evenings. Despite his age, he was still slim and athletic. He must have cut a fine Viking figure in his youth, David thought.
“We better continue our trip,” interrupted Edward.
“If that is all Ed has to say to us after all this talk, then it’s better to follow his command,” replied Marie, getting up.
Shortly afterward, the wheels withstood once more the metal carcasses injured by infinite horizons of sandy and rocky roads.
Crammed back into the backseat, as if the plane ride had not been sufficient preparation, David tried to focus his thoughts on what the guidebooks said about the Kalahari and the people’s struggle to live in it.
He had read for example that many scholars argued that the Kalahari was not a proper desert, since it received more than 250 millimeters of annual rainfall, had diverse fauna and flora and was home to many migratory birds. It then occurred to him that, had he arrived a few months earlier, he would have found a landscape of lush and colorful vegetation, despite the high temperatures.
It was altogether a harsh place, he thought, and it should be livable not because of humans’ drive to surmount challenges, but rather because home was a feeling out of irrational belief, something you could not simply escape from. Since one could not be easily free of their social or physical environment, home was not just where you were, it was who you were. This was indeed a vivid thought, but David kept it to himself.