Chapter Two

The day before our scheduled departure for Zimbabwe, we received another Skype call from Akeesha to tell us that it wouldn’t be necessary for us to go after all. The body had been successfully exhumed and processed, and samples of the bones and various tissues as well as the wolf-skin and blood that was still in the veins had been taken and dispatched to various academic centres. So it was with much disappointment that we had to wait for the samples to be delivered to us in Durban.

***

We could hardly contain our excitement as I pushed our SUV well past the maximum speed-limit down the N3 freeway towards Durban. The blood and wolf skin and Nordic Warrior specimens had arrived in South Africa, and technicians at our varsity were getting all of the specimens ready under containment procedures. The delivery of the specimens world-wide had been timed so that simultaneous investigations could begin.

“I haven’t felt this excited in ages” said Rachel, eagerly. Her face was alight with wonder and anticipation. I reached over and grabbed her hand in mine and it felt as natural as it had when we had first started dating some twenty years previously.

I grinned broadly as well, and focused on the road in front of me. In those moments my mind wandered back to when I first met Rachel. 

***

I was in my first year of studying History at the University of Natal in Pietermaritzburg. I was loving it, and I was a party animal of note. Every Thursday night was party night in Maritzburg, and my word did I love to party!

On one particular Friday morning, I was suffering more than I normally did. My mouth felt like the inside of a dog’s rectum, and my eyes felt like I had fallen asleep with my head buried in sand. My head felt like I had a hundred midgets with jack-hammers pounding away at the inside of my cranium.

But, second period on a Friday morning was our European History 103 - my course, the one I wanted to continue. So I somehow managed to pull myself together after my alarm had rang five times and I had put it on snooze each time. 

I rolled off my bed onto the hard wooden floor of our shared digs where five of us guys lived together. My head hit the floor as well and I groaned with the extra bolts of lightning shooting through it. I slowly got onto all fours and grabbing my bed I pulled myself to standing.

Once in the kitchen, as quickly as possible I grabbed a cup of instant coffee. My stomach protested loudly at the scorching caffeine so I took a milk bottle and drank a big few gulps directly from the bottle. The stomach settled and then I added some yoghurt to it. I continued the coffee whilst popping two Asprin’s and two Panado’s. I looked at the clock on the wall and swore loudly. I was going to be late if I didn’t haul ass quickly. I ran to my room again and hastily put on some deodorant and pulled on some fresh clothes. I couldn’t find my car keys, and anger started growing inside of me. In the hallway there was no bunch of keys awaiting me either, but I found a note from Geoff, one of my digs-mates. He had borrowed my car to get to his early morning swimming training and would be back in time for me to get to my classes. But he wasn’t back in time. I punched the wall a bit too hard, and pain immediately told me I had done some damage to it. Swearing loudly I went out the front door onto the porch where I found my mountain-bike. Grabbing it, and hoisting my varsity backpack onto my back, which I had retrieved from the floor in the hallway, I carried the bike down the stairs and jumped onto it and began cycling to varsity.

I knew I was going to be late, so decided to try some biking tricks to get there on time. Again, I won’t bore you with too many details, but as I rounded the bend in a road, I slammed into the back of a semi-truck that was stationary, and I was knocked off my bike landing hard on the tarmac, and I then went blank, surrounded by a cloud of intense pain everywhere.

When I woke up, I was very disoriented, images of the partying the previous night intermingled with brief flashes of the morning’s event. I looked around me and found myself in a hospital emergency room. As I lifted my head, bright lights exploded inside and I lowered my head quickly. 

“Hello bike-man” the voice was soft and gentle, and a face swam into view above mine. As my eyes corrected, it focused on the face of the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my entire life. The smile was warm and open, and the eyes were bright green and sparkled with life and vitality.

“Wow” my voice croaked out. I tried again and cleared my throat.

“Wow, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” The face blushed and she said “I’m sure that’s a good line that you must use often.”

“No, seriously.” I kept my voice down because if I raised it a bit my head protested. “What’s your name? Why are you here? Are you a doctor or a nurse?”

“All these questions” she tut-tutted. “I was driving behind that semi-truck which you connected with. I brought you here to St Anne’s Hospital.

“Thank you.”

“I think you’ve broken your hand, as well as a leg-bone. The orthopaedic specialist has just been in.” She chuckled for a few moments. “He thought we were boyfriend and girlfriend.”

I chuckled along with her, loving the sound of her voice. “What did you say?”

“I said we met by accident, and that it’s too early to tell if we are going steady or not.”

I laughed, and immediately regretted it because of a stabbing pain in my right chest.

“Oh, sorry. I forgot to mention that you also have two cracked ribs.” Her voice had changed to genuine concern.

“Don’t leave, please?” I asked her. I knew I was going to have to go to the operating theatre to have my leg fixed and couldn’t bear the thought of waking up without anyone being around.

“But isn’t there a girlfriend or family you want me to call?” the tone in her voice sounded a bit distant and off-ish.

I sighed a long but ginger sigh. The were a few moments silence and I was glad she didn’t say anything. So much ran around in my head that I wanted to hide from, but there was something so special about this girl that I needed to talk to.

“No, there is no-one.” I paused again, turning my head properly for the first time to look at this angel that had stepped into my life, who was standing next to my bed. I hadn’t realised it until now, but she was holding my hand, and the physical contact was warm, and reassuring. Something special. She smiled again and nodded almost imperceptibly. So I continued, and told her about how both my folks had been killed in a car crash when I was ten years old and that I had grown up with my older sister. She had developed leukaemia at the age of 22 and died a month later, and I was left with no-one. I stayed with a friend’s family until I left school and fortunately my very good grades at school ensured a full scholarship at the university, including living expenses.

When I had finished, I looked up at her again, and was surprised to see tears in her eyes, which she slowly wiped off with her thumb. She still hadn’t let go my hand.

“The orthopaedic surgeon said it’s going to be a long process of healing after that accident. You are going into theatre in about an hour’s time.”

I continued looking at her. “Will you be here when I come around?”

She hesitated, and then said the strangest thing. “Where is your spirit, Frank?”

My first question was “How did you know my name?”

She laughed again and said “Your ID and medical aid card were in your wallet. And my name is Rachel.” Then she got serious again and repeated the previous question.

“To be honest with you, Rachel, I don’t know. I’ve been angry at God for a long time and felt abandoned by him.” I stopped and looked out the window, thinking deeply about things that I had been trying to drown in alcohol and parties for far too long. Eventually, I sighed again and looked at her and said “I need help to get back to Him.” It was a simple statement full of intent, and fear.

She nodded, and said “I will be here, and I will visit you every day and we will talk lots.”

“But you don’t even know me” I said.

“I know lots about you already. It’s only the time factor that makes you think that.”

She then proceeded to tell me about her, how she was in first year science, that she was a Christian, that, like me, had lost both parents when she was young and grew up with her uncle and aunt in the Natal midlands. The nurses arrived while she was talking to me and gave me a tablet to take under my tongue. Things became blurry after that, and the last thing I remember before the operation was me asking her never to leave me, and she smiled back at me and said “Hang in there biker-boy.”

When I awoke, I felt like I was swimming in a warm fuzzy gooey pool. I knew it was the Morphine. I slowly opened my eyes and looked at myself. My left leg was in a cast with a metallic frame which a came to know later as the External Fixator. My right hand was also in a cast. I looked around the room and was surprised to see Rachel sitting in the chair next to my bed.

“Hey rescuer.” My voice croaked.

She looked up and smiled in a way that made my tummy flip over a few times. I had been so overwhelmed by pain initially that I hadn’t really had a good look at her, but looking at her now I was blown away with how beautiful she was.

“Hey Biker-boy. You’ve been asleep for quite a while.”

I glanced out the window. It was dark outside. I was immediately concerned.

“It’s dark outside, Rachel. You should be getting home.” In those days, crime was still very high in South Africa, especially violent hi-jacking. 

Again that gorgeous smile.

“Don’t you worry about me. How are you feeling?”

“Great - the morphine is too nice.”

I fell silent and stared at the wall, suddenly feeling empty inside despite the artificial glow of the morphine.

“A penny for your thoughts. Talk to me Biker-boy.” She put down her book and came and sat on the bed next to me. Again, I noticed she took my left hand in hers. 

So began our relationship. I had wandered far from God, angry at him for so many things, and over the course of the next week, she let me vent, and after I had let it out, she had let me cry. I hadn’t cried for years, but when the tears started, they didn’t stop, and her embrace was the greatest source of comfort I had ever had. Then she gave me a Bible and told me to read. So I did. And, you guessed right, I found my way back to God. Or, should I rather say, He reached out and plucked me from the edge of the abyss that I had been staring at for so many years.

When I came out of hospital, I started going to church with her and formed amazing friendships with the young adults there. My varsity grades suddenly started climbing, despite the fact that Rachel and I spent almost every waking moment together. Her ideas about intimacy were very strong and she set the boundaries in place right from the start. I wanted nothing more than to take her back to my digs and make sweet love to her, but I respected her and God’s Word.

Our wedding was about a year later - fortunately both of us had those full scholarships to fall back on so finances were fine, allowing us to find a small house in Scottsville near the varsity. It wasn’t much, but we didn’t need much. Our honeymoon was the most special time of my life….

***

Sorry, I just needed a break from writing there - I became overwhelmed by what I have just written.

Anyway, undergrad years turned to post-grad years turned to PhD years and lecturing and you know the other stuff from earlier on. Rachel was my world, my life, my everything. And she was taken from me.