10 pages rory flint

African Adventure

The Adventurous Life Of Rory Flint Graham Vivian Lancaster

For Murray, my grandson.

L TRAYBERRY PRESS

NOTE; COVER PHOTO TSOTSI Hlon Muthwa works for ‘The Shoal,’ the dive operation at Aliwal Shoal with whom I have SCUBA dived for some sixteen years.

I remember Hlon as a small school boy working during the holidays for extra money, determined to carry heavy SCUBA cylinders by himself, always refusing any help offered. Pouring sweat, he dragged them through the sand when he was too short or not strong enough to carry them, but he never gave up.

Always proud, always willing, he has been a continual inspiration to the more privileged.

Driven by Marc Bernardis of ‘The Shoal’ the diving community is putting their weight behind him, now that he his old enough to have the operation to fix his crippled leg.

Some of proceeds from this book will contribute towards his medical aid shortfall.

Thank you for your support,

Graham.

ALEXANDER HOUSE Incorporating

TRAYBERRY PRESS 29 Howick Road Pietermaritzburg, South Africa 0836388813 Copyright 2010 Graham Vivian Lancaster Copyright 2010 in this published edition ALEXANDER HOUSE All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright holder and publisher.

First published 2010, 2011 ISBN: 978-0-9869707-0-2 Cover photographs Graham Vivian Lancaster Cover design: G.V. Lancaster / Maxine Wicks Distributed by ALEXANDER HOUSE.

Works by the author: NOVELS: Wind Song Storm Song Strength Of ten SELF HELP: Everyone Can Do It Its Never Too Late Surviving The Ladder The Cost Of Money Who’s Shrinking Your Money?

The Happy Customer POETRY: Marks On My Soul Gypsey Whale Song Gravel Roads Fledgeling African Ride Moments Of Truth HUMOUR: Bert and Co. Bert Another Story Nothing For Mahala ADVENTURE SERIES: Wild and Dangerous Secrets of the Sea Cyclone Tracy Wrath Of The Gods Dangerous Alliances When The Earth Thunders * The Adventurous Life Of Rory Flint

INDEX

1 4 6 9 15 21 23 27 33 39 41 44 46 48 51 53 55 58 61 63 65 69 73 77 80 82 84

THE END OF JUNIOR SCHOOL ALL IN ONE NIGHT THE RED TAPE BEGINS OFF TO LIVE WITH GREAT AUNT FRANCES GOOD OLD PEARCE TIME TO LEAVE BACK TO THE FACTORY MOVING IN WITH UNCLE BRIAN PLANNING AND COURAGE! PITCHING CAMP LIFE SETTLES DOWN THE FIRST NIGHT AT CAMP FLINT BACK TO SCHOOL ON MONDAY PREPARATION FOR THE TENT WARMING DAILY UPDATES AT SCHOOL THAT AFTERNOON THE BOYS ARRIVE THE WORK PARTY TERMINATOR FLINT EDUCATING A KITTEN COVERING MY EXPENSES THE ROCKET RIDE THE LONG WEEKEND AS NIGHT SETTLES MORNING DAWNING TERMINATOR THE FEARLESS THE NEXT LONG WEEKEND

THE END OF JUNIOR SCHOOL

The sudden blast of air out a pea shooter and the sting of the soggy wad of chewed paper behind my left ear made me jump. I knew instinctively it was Cockroach testing his new glass tube the dentist had given him yesterday. It was long, accurate and fast.

Miss Knott, the teacher had heard it as well and looked up sharply at the class. Her eyes met mine, which was always the first place she looked, somehow, when there was trouble, but I looked down and continued reading my set work book as though nothing had happened.

She settled down and presently I heard the slow tearing of paper out of Cockroach’s exercise book behind me and a muffled giggle.

I looked back angrily, beneath my arm at him. He smiled and leaned forward, opening his mouth to show me the soggy mess inside. “Ugh,” I shuddered, that was what was running down the back of my ear. I ducked my head and smeared it off on my shoulder.

“I’ll get you for that!” I hissed at him but he smiled.

“Rory Flint!” teacher’s strident voice rent the silence.

“Yes Maam?” I asked innocently as I watched her brown eyes looming large and fierce behind her thick glasses.

“You seem to have a strange twitch. What is the matter with you, boy?” she asked sternly.

“Um – nothing Maam – I’m, uh just rubbing my ear on my shirt.” I heard Cockroach laughing and I was determined to pay him back at the first opportunity.

Everyone had stopped reading, knowing exactly what had happened as they watched the interchange and wondered if Cockroach, the real culprit would be found out?

The class settled down slowly and I waited for Cockroach’s move.

I heard his sharp intake of breath, imagined the pea shooter taking aim and threw myself flat across the desk with a thump just as the blast of air exploded out of the end of the glass tube.

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The missile whizzed over my head and the rest appeared to happen in slow motion time frames – spitty paper flying across the room – glancing off the desk before Miss Knott – bouncing up as she looked up at the sudden gasp of the class – glasses – missile smacking in a star burst of spit on the left lens.

“Oh my - - --,” Cockroach exhaled - Miss Knott’s eyes crossed over her nose as they both watched the spitty starburst slowly beginning to slide down.

I lay flat with my arms across the desk as Cockroach hissed, “Sit up Rory! Sit up!”

“Aikona brau! Caught fair and square.” Still lying flat across my desk I smiled irritatingly over my shoulder at his white face.

“Flint!” Miss Knott gathered herself and screamed but I poked my thumb over my shoulder.

“It was Mr. Cockroach Caruthers, Miss.”

“Mr. – uh - Cockroach Caruthers!” she screamed.

“Rory!” he hissed.

“Deal with it!” I hissed back, laughing at him.

“Rory – I swear –“ “That’s a bad habit Cockroach.”

“Rory!“ “Caruthers! Headmasters office – now,” Miss Knott stamped her foot angrily, “This instant.” She was at the end of her string trying to wipe the spitty paper off her lens with a tissue and climb off her chair at the same time as trying to focus without glasses.

“Miss – Miss –“ Cockroach ventured.

“Now, Caruthers!” she screamed” as I passed my folded handkerchief back to him.

“Put it inside your underpants so the cane doesn’t sting too much, Mr. Cockroach Caruthers,” I said gently but he was furious and threw it back at me, thought better of it, snatched it up and stuffed it down the back of his trousers as he followed the highly indignant Miss Knott to the headmaster’s office.

“Cockroach,” I called as he was about to leave the room and he looked back quickly, “Have fun.” His eyes were most unfriendly and all the girls said, “Shame on you, Rory Flint!” and suddenly it was all my fault, but it was time Cockroach had some payback.

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In our group, there was Cockroach, Stinky, Whitey, Jennings and George. The six of us had been together from pre-school.

Through good and bad the friendships had survived and Cockroach would be chafing badly as well as having his backside on fire, but he would be over it and sharing the joke by break time.

I went back to his desk to find the pea shooter before Miss Knott returned. It wasn’t there and I knew the wily little devil must have hidden it in his sock so I wouldn’t find it.

“He must have taken it with,” Jennings said.

“Good for him!” said the girls.

And so Grade Seven came to an end and we moved to high school, which was just across the fence – all of us together, still in the same class.

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ALL IN ONE NIGHT

One night my entire life changed in a split second. My parents and I lived in a nice comfortable house, I was happy at school and we didn’t want for much.

They had to go away for the weekend to a trade fair in Gauteng.

It was a long way from Pietermaritzburg so I asked if I might stay home and study for the upcoming exams?

I was determined to be a mechanical engineer and then perhaps take over from my father in the furniture factory, where he owned forty percent shares in the company.

“Come with us, Rory, you can study for five hours in the car and five hours on the way back,” my mother coaxed, but in the end they allowed me to stay after promising not to go out alone at night and to feed myself something more substantial than peanut butter sandwiches.

They phoned to say they had arrived safely, and to check that everything at home was fine, and then left me to get on with my studying.

My parents called again on Sunday afternoon to say they were almost ready to begin their journey home and I said I would have dinner ready when they arrived.

I lost myself in my studies and cooking the evening meal and hadn’t realised how late it was, when there was a knock on the door. I peeped through the spy hole, thinking it was them, but was shocked to see a policeman standing there. I opened the door quickly.

“Good evening,” the sergeant said gravely, “Rory Flint?”

“Yes.” I replied in a small voice, wondering what I could possibly have done wrong?

“There has been a terrible accident - I’m so sorry but both of your parents were killed,” he continued as I slumped back against the wall in shock and horror.

“No!” I shouted.

“I’m afraid it’s the truth, son. They were involved in a serious motor accident in thick mist on the freeway.

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