Desert Prisoner. Andrea Abbott
age as Leo but shorter than him and with curly dark hair, brown eyes, and an accent that everyone thought was American until he put them right. “Canadian,” he’d say.
More voices now. Leo’s parents, Marius and Zara Knight, talking late into the hot, humid night on the veranda of that white cottage.
“What are your afraid of, Zara?” Leo’s father was saying quietly. “That he’s still vulnerable?”
“Well, he is,” came the answer. “Especially as they’ll be passing through Aus. And you know only too well that that gang will never give up.”
Aus? What about it? And what gang? Leo had wondered.
“They’re ruthless, but they’re not complete fools,” Marius argued. “They’ll be miles from Aus. They’re probably not even in the country anymore, otherwise they’d have been picked up by now and Axel would . . .”
Zara’s voice cutting in. “I know. Perhaps I am being paranoid, but which mother in the same situation wouldn’t be?”
“I suppose so,” said Leo’s dad in a gentle tone. “I’ve been thinking lately that it’s time we told Leo. He has no memory of it, but it’s only fair that he knows the truth.”
The truth about what? It all sounded very interesting! Leo sat up in bed and leaned toward the window so he could hear everything clearly.
But his mother put the lid on it all. “No!” she said firmly. “Not yet.”
“Well, when?” said Marius.
“When he’s in high school and can deal with it better,” said Zara.
That’s next year! Ages away. Bursting with curiosity, Leo nearly got up to go and ask what the secret was. But he knew his parents would be cross that he’d been eavesdropping (“It’s rude to eavesdrop,” his mother would probably say) so he stayed where he was. How he wished, though, that she wouldn’t treat him like a ninny who couldn’t handle serious things. Hey, I surf in the Indian Ocean where sharks swim! he wanted to call out to her. And you’re not worried about that.
“Apart from everything else,” Zara was saying, “I’m not sure he belongs with that astronomy crowd. He’s only just twelve. The others are so much older: nineteen, twenty. And Dawie’s twenty-two. Should Leo really be . . .?”
“They invited him,” said Marius, “I’m sure they’re responsible people, even though they’re students. And ABSO’s all he can talk about right now, remember. Think about it. How many twelve-year-olds are keen astronomers, and have the gumption to join a university astronomy club?”
Zara sighing. “Very few, I suppose. It just shows how deep things run in families.” A pause, then, “Who would have thought that? After . . .” She hesitated again, “. . . everything.” Spoken very softly, her words were almost drowned by the swish of the waves on the beach below, but nothing could smother the bitterness that laced them.
“You’ve got to let go,” Marius, gentle again, diluting the bitterness. “Or it will destroy you.”
“It already did, Marius. A long time ago. And not just me. All of us. Axel most of all.”
Axel? That name’s familiar. There came a fleeting vision of a small dark-haired boy but it didn’t last long enough for Leo to work out who he was.
“We’ve somehow kept going,” Marius went on, “and we still have each other.” The creaking of the wicker chair as he leaned forward, or settled back into it. “Always remember, we did all we could and more. And I’ll never give up hope. Deep inside, I believe that . . .” He stopped abruptly, then changed the subject. “Look, Zara. We’ve got to move on. It’s the least we can do for Leo. Nothing will change the past, and we can’t let it ruin the future completely. We can’t let it restrict our son. We have to let him – you know – spread his wings, explore.”
Silence for a while, then Zara sighing again. “You’re right.” Sniffing now like she was fighting back tears. “I only wish that ABSO was somewhere else. Anywhere, but . . . but . . . where it all happened.”
Six months later, thousands of kilometres away, sprawled out on the desert floor, hearing the conversation so clearly again, Leo might have been in his own bed, lying awake, listening to his parents’ voices drifting in through the open window, wondering what had happened that had destroyed their lives. Now he’d never find out.
He should have listened harder that night. He should have taken notice of his mother’s worry instead of wishing she wouldn’t treat him like a baby. He might have stayed at home.
And he wouldn’t have met his end in the desert.
3
“Didn’t anyone check?” said Yunus, looking from Treasure to Dawie to Eva.
“Didn’t you?” retorted Dawie.
“Well, it wasn’t, er . . . no . . . I thought that . . .” Yunus stammered.
Julia cut in. “Who cares whose fault it is? Leo’s probably dead! No one could survive being out in a storm like that.”
“What are we going to do?” Yunus said. He ran from window to window and opened the back doors of both Land Rovers as if he expected to find Leo among the luggage.
Humphrey took out his cellphone. “Darn! No service. Just like down south. We can’t call for help.”
Treasure leapt into the driver’s seat and adjusted it until her feet reached the pedals. “I’m going back for him.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Dawie. Being the president of the club, and the oldest in the group, he was responsible for everyone.
“That’s crazy,” said Eva through the driver’s window. “Better to go on to Keetmanshoop and tell the police. They’ll send a search party.”
“Even a helicopter,” said Victor.
Dawie slammed the back door shut causing Yunus to leap out of the way. “It’ll take time to organise that,” he said. “We can’t wait that long. Every second counts when someone’s lost in the desert.” He ran round to the passenger’s side and climbed in.
“It’s madness to go back,” Eva insisted. “You don’t stand a chance of finding him. It’ll be dark soon.”
“Too bad,” said Treasure, turning the key in the ignition. “We’ve got to try.” She pictured Leo, alone and without shelter during the storm. That they could have been so careless! And it’s all my fault. It had been her idea to invite him on ABSO. When his mother said she wasn’t happy about him going, Treasure had used all her persuasive powers to get her to change her mind. She remembered something Mrs Knight had said:
The Namib is a dangerous place. People get lost.
When Treasure promised she wouldn’t let anything bad happen to Leo, Mrs Knight stared at her and said, “Eight years ago, a four-year-old boy vanished in Namibia right under the nose of the person who was looking after him. It could happen again.”
Treasure hadn’t taken much notice at the time; it was the sort of thing an over-protective mother would say. Now, as she released the handbrake, she felt ice cold. It’s almost as if Leo’s mother could tell the future. Only this time, the boy is twelve. “And we’re the ones who left him behind!” she said out loud, pressing her foot down on the accelerator.
Eva jumped out of the way as the vehicle did a U-turn. “No,” she yelled. “You’ll achieve nothing. We must go to the cops.”
“You do that,” said Dawie. “Organise a search party when you get to Keetmanshoop.” He held up his cellphone. “Let us know when you do.” With that, he and Treasure began speeding west in a race against the lowering sun.
“He’ll be okay,” said Dawie, as always trying to look on the bright side.