Breaking our bonds

Chapter eleven

Worry about my mother clouded my head. My thoughts crowded around that stiff hospital bed in which she lay.

"Mum is going to be all right, " I said to Caroline as we sat on our porch together.

"I hope she will be, " she answered as she raised her eyes to the setting sun. The evening had painted the sky into a million ripples of colour. 

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"What is?" Caroline said as her blue eyes took on a puzzled expression.

"The sky, " I answered. "Those explosions of colour hold a promise, you know?"

"What promise could that hold?" she scoffed. "The promise that a few hours would bring about darkness and another few would bring the sunrise."

"No, " I said as I shook my head. "It's the promise that everything will be all right again."

"You really believe that?"

"Yes, I do, " I said. "Racism can't always win. It will fall someday. Maybe that someday is tomorrow, or maybe it is years into the future. Yet, whenever it will be, I know that apartheid will fall. I know that restriction itself will fall."

"Believe me, Elizabeth, " Caroline said. "It has fallen a thousand years ago in your little bubble."

"Joan and I will be together, " I said to Caroline. "We will live and love each other and nothing will stop us. Nothing."

"Not even Rachel?" she asked.

"No, not even her."

I thought a lot about Rachel during those few hours. She was a spiteful, prejudiced enemy. Yet, not long ago she had been a friend.

Memories of our sleepovers and pranks on old De Voos flooded my mind. Could she really be my stalker?

I remembered how a thousand tears sprung from her eyes the day I confronted her. Could those really have been fake? Ian never believed it.

But all evidence pointed out to her. She was one of the three people who knew about my diary. The other two were Ian and Caroline. She knew where I lived and where my room was. It was all beginning to make sense now. Rachel was the tall, blonde girl who followed me when I visited Joan. She was my stalker.

As the evening sky settled into gloom, tears slid down my face. Betrayal stung. Yet, nothing stung more than the betrayal of a friend.

"Elizabeth, " said a voice.

"Umm...Caroline?" I said although the voice sounded nothing like the soft voice of my sister.

"No, you idiot, " the voice said. "Open the window."

Without a seconds hesitation, I obeyed. Joan was now free to climb into my room.

"What are you doing here, " I asked.

"What do you think I'm doing here?' she smirked as her eyes met mine.

Her hands were full of bouquets; one of the deep red roses and the other daisies.

"These are for your mum, " she said holding the daisies up to me. "I tried to come to see her as soon as Ian told me what happened to your mother. I really did. But some of the doctors stood in front of me like guards, telling me that the hospital was only for whites."

My heart raced when I heard these words. Joan came to see my mum. She came to see a person I loved. It meant that she loved me, didn't it?

"Joan, I..."

"You feel thankful, " she smirked. "Wow, I'm relieved. The only thanks I received from my sister was a kick in the leg."

"Maybe because you are mean to her, " I said raising my eyebrows.

"I'm not mean to her, " she said. "I just want her to toughen up. I'm scared for her."

"Scared of what?" I asked resting my head on her broad shoulders. With her arms around me, the world and all its troubles melted away.  In her arms, I was home.

"Apartheid, " she answered. "There have been cops coming to my street. They've been telling me to stop seeing you."

"And are you going to listen to them?"

"Never, " she said as her lips met mine. They were soft like cotton and feather pillows and as our tongues intertwined, a million shots of ecstasy raced through me.

"I would never to stop loving you, " she whispered, her lips brushing mine.

"Never?" I asked as I made my way across the room and covered myself with my satin duvet.

"I never knew you were this messy, " she said as she leaned into me.

"Oh, my stalker was kind enough to trash my room, " I said laughing. Being with Joan meant that every torrid moment felt good. Rachel's antics seemed hilarious to me now.

"But you still didn't answer my question,you know, " I said to her.

"Elizabeth, I would never leave you. Not even if it kills me, " she said.

"Well then, " I smiled as my fingers fumbled against the buttons of my top. "Sorry, I was never really graceful."

Joan giggled as she helped me unbutton the cotton shirt I was wearing, before tossing it to the ground.

"Are you nervous?" she asked brushing my hair with her fingers.

"No, " I said. "Not with you."

"That's a good answer, " she said as her fingers reached for my bare chest. Being skinny, I didn't have much she could grab onto. But she didn't seem to care. Every squeeze, every touch was a passion that was far too powerful for us.

As she flung her shirt to the floor, I saw every outline of her in the dark. She was as curvy as the street she lived in.

"You're beautiful, " I whispered as my face moved closer to hers.

"So are you, " she whispered, reaching to unbutton my jeans.

Before she could do that a scuttle came across the hall. A scuttle that was right across my room.

"Whose there?" Joan shouted. "Who is it?"

I inched closer to the door. The light switch was far away from my reach.

As I looked into the dark, my eyes saw a flash in those blue eyes that were watching me. I stared at them. They stared right back.