Cyril’s film had been graphic. I am deeply moved by the sacrifice which Jesus Christ made as creator and sustainer of the Universe,
“He was willing to die a painful, humiliating death to save His treasured creatures from oblivion. Yet, in the middle of this dreadful experience, He thought of and secured a home for his mother by saying to John, his beloved disciple,
‘Behold thy mother!’ John understood Christ’s words and accepted the trust. He at once took Mary to his home, and from that hour cared for her tenderly. John was receiving a great blessing. She was a constant reminder of his beloved Master.”
Tears overwhelm me, and my silent sobs are painful to conceal, but I manage to stifle that sincere, impressive admiration and gratitude, what a pity.
Ian teaches us Physical Science. It is a delight to have such a bright and exciting teacher, and he’s my brother to boot. Ian is studying for a Bachelor of Science degree and has been the first student to go to Stellenbosch University each day, since Helderberg is unable to offer the necessary laboratory facilities for chemistry and physics. Dad buys him a motorbike, so he is also the first student to own a vehicle on campus. I am extra proud of his status and the ease with which he shares his knowledge. I struggle to admit that although I love being in Ian’s classes, I don’t understand how to apply some of the laws of physics and chemistry, like Boyles and Charles’ law. Bugger them. How can I tell him that without appearing to be dumb? The challenge of studying fades as I become bored and more focused on relationships and day-dreaming. Ian is Head Prefect and holds some authority, however when the Girls’ Dormitory Matron yells at me one day, I realise how much I am living in his shadow,
“Miss Hartley don’t think that because you are Mr Hartley’s sister, you can do as you please!” I shoot back,
“Please credit me with a personality of my own. I am not only Mr Hartley’s sister, I have thoughts and needs of my own, you know!” She shuffles off in a peeve.
In my final year, Granny Hartley dies. She has outlived Grandad by six years and being viciously independent, declines living with any of her children as she becomes frail. Granny had lived alone in East London until a creeping paralysis ensured her move to a frail-care centre. She dies alone, and I suspect lonely, with only her faith in the God she loved so dearly. I miss her but don’t know what to do with my sadness. Typing class becomes my focus and a distraction. I hammer out my frustration on the old manual typewriters until I can type 120 words a minute correctly.
Little did I imagine how useful that skill would be in years to come when computers arrive on the communication scene.
Adding to Granny’s death and my grief, Daddy swaps Beginsel and Lebona for a tobacco farm in Rhodesia, near Sinoia. I am confused, sad, and so unmotivated that I am very fortunate to pass any final exams. The only subject that I get an A for is typing. I could have done a lot better and feel somewhat guilty.
Heading North
Daddy says that the writing is on the wall for South Africa – Apartheid is not the way to treat people and expect their submission indefinitely. They sell all of the furniture and vehicles before leaving Beginsel, keeping only a few treasures like books and saddlery, to be sent to Rhodesia by rail with his three best horses. One of them is Landau, a horse that Daddy’s friend Johnny Higgs has given to me. I feel so special to have been gifted Landau and that Daddy honours my horse as one of the chosen, although without asking me.
After final exams, I board the train to Ficksburg one last time before the move. We spend a couple of weeks staying at 16 Kloof Street before it is taken over by new owners. Kendrew is still living at home, on Laerplaas, and we meet a couple of times. Then to my surprise, en route to Rhodesia, while we are spending a week in Johannesburg with cousin Claudies’s parents, Kendrew and a friend turn up. We go out water-skiing, and Kendrew asks if I will marry him. I am corresponding with Rob, and I also want to go to University, so I decline with sadness, confusion and pain. I realise that Kendrew needs to marry and settle down on the family farm. I am tempted to accept his proposal because he has meant more than a big brother to me; I have been very envious of Sylvia for all these years. At the same time my mind mulls Granny’s advice,
“If you want a home where the shadows are never lifted; marry one with whom you are unequally yoked together.” I know we have different beliefs about the Sabbath and Sunday worship - is that unequal yoking?
Is that why Granny had forbidden Kendrew to visit me?
John had joined Daddy at Beginsel for a year before the move, and now the six of us set off in Johns’ Fiat to travel two thousand miles north. Daddy says that he has transferred all his funds to Rhodesia because of a reasonable exchange rate. I feel very uncertain, but my parents have always coped before, so I tell myself that we will be OK, even if I must sit with some luggage on my lap. James is the smallest, so he often sits in front, three up for the sake of peace, but more often four up in the back, enduring David’s jibes,
“Mommy, David’s teasing me again!” pierces my small inch of tranquillity - persistent as the breath we breathe on the long, exhausting journey to Salisbury.
“David, stop that!” Daddy says. “Or you will walk for a couple of miles.”
I don’t recall that happening. At last we get to Salisbury, and instead of heading north to Sinoia as I expected, Daddy buys a blue Mercedes Benz. We set off east to Inyazura where Ian has been with Irma and her family arranging their wedding for New Years’ Day of 1963. They had graduated together and then announced their engagement.
John is the best man with Irma’s brother Athol - groomsman, and I am a bridesmaid with Diantha, Irma’s sister. The preacher has a catchphrase, which is all I remember of the sermon,
“The couple who prays together stays together.”
Everything goes without a hitch until the bridal couple has boarded the train for their honeymoon and then on to a mission station called Bugema College in Uganda. We wave good-bye with tears in our eyes, not knowing when we will meet again. We are each caught in a private web of anticlimax when John feels in his pocket for his car keys - Ian was the last to drive it. The train departed twenty minutes ago. Immediately John hops into the Mercedes and chases off until he manages to catch up with the train, at a station. What a relief, I find myself weeping with the combined pain of saying good-bye to my big boet - brother and new sister, plus the stress from the ‘key’ saga.
Inunwa Ranch entrance with our cheetah and puppy
Daddy sells the tobacco farm near Sinoia before we move there and buys Inunwa Ranch, fifty-four miles north-west of Bulawayo . I spend that year on the ranch deciding my career direction. I have set my heart on Physiotherapy, but Cape Town seems a long way away. I enjoy being Daddy’s ‘farm manager’ … he teases that I am his farm damager.
I pass my drivers’ license the second time around! So that I can assist him and learn how to care for the mombies - cattle. John accepts at Gwebi Agricultural College in Natal, and David and James attend Anderson School near Gwelo. For the first time in my life, I am alone with my parents and enjoying their full attention.
Mommy is a lot more fun than previously, and to celebrate my adulthood, I start calling them Mum and Dad. We drive to Bulawayo once a week, to buy supplies on the tarred strip roads. Dad usually takes us to Meikles for lunch as a treat. We meet with our
