“Perhaps you should give it a rest, Saluni,” says the Whale Caller. “I can imagine how much you are sweating under that coat.”
Saluni can think of a few choice words to hurl in his direction, but in the spirit of the new attitude she decides against it. She just hums softly to herself and continues her game with the seaweed. This emboldens him enough to voice another criticism: “You know, Saluni, some poor animal had to die for you to look beautiful like that?”
“They die every day, man… the animals… they die so we can eat them or wear them as shoes. So why not wear them as fur coats? Some are killed by you, man. What do you do with the fish that you catch? Fondle and caress and kiss them and then throw them back into the sea?”
“It’s all thanks to you, Saluni. I was satisfied with my macaroni and cheese.”
“Haven’t I heard that somewhere before? You were satisfied with your life full stop. But now you are not just satisfied. You are happy. You were never happy until I came into your life.”
He is digesting this, repeating the word “happy” twice or thrice. Saluni walks out of the water and joins him on his rock. She holds his hand.
“Yes, you are happy… very happy! You are just not aware of it. We are both very happy.”
This scares the Whale Caller, but he tries to be brave about it. If this be happiness, then he will face it like a man. He will face the sickness, for clearly it is happiness’s bedfellow. He sees Lunga Tubu hopping about from rock to rock without a care in the world. He feels sorry for him: one day he will grow up into a man and some woman will make him sick with happiness. That’s a man’s lot. The cross that he has to bear with fortitude. He is coming towards them, Lunga Tubu. The Whale Caller wonders why. The logical thing to do would be to avoid them … to give Saluni’s mothering tendencies as wide a berth as possible. But here he comes and stands in front of them and greets them, politely calling them “aunt” and “uncle.” He looks relieved that Saluni does not make any attempt to mollycoddle him.
“He has returned, Aunt Saluni,” says Lunga Tubu. “The radio man is back.”
“Has he brought the CDs?” asks Saluni, jumping up, grasping the boy by both shoulders and shaking the information out of him.
“Yes, he has brought some CDs,” says Lunga Tubu, “and he wants to see you. He is at the Seacrest Hotel in Seventh Street.”
Saluni looks at the Whale Caller triumphantly: “You didn’t believe he would return, did you? You thought he was a scoundrel who had run away with our voices.”
“I never said anything like that, Saluni.”
“You didn’t say it but you thought it. One only had to look at your face to see that you were questioning my credentials as a star. Now what do you say about it, man? A big-time agent wants to see me … at a hotel. What do you say about that?”
“I say go for it, Saluni,” says the Whale Caller, pretending some enthusiasm.
There may be something in this whole business after all. Otherwise why would the radio man come all the way from Cape Town? But if Saluni does go, what will happen to him? How is he going to live without Saluni? And if she does become a star she will surely forget about him. He can’t leave Hermanus. He can’t follow Saluni to Hollywood. He will be out of place there without the sea and the whales and the seagulls and the hot smells of rotting kelp and the salt air brushing against his silver grey beard and the southeaster lashing against his body and the Wendy house and Hermanus.
Under his breath he curses the radio man. But he offers: “I will go with you to the hotel, Saluni.”
“Me too,” says Lunga Tubu.
Saluni lifts her fur coat to her shoulders and runs up the cliff path. She is closely followed by the Whale Caller, who is closely followed by Lunga Tubu. They race along the path until it joins Main Road. They turn right into Main Road, winding with it towards the Mossel River. But before they can cross the bridge she stops, perhaps to catch her breath. They all stop.
“That’s better, Saluni,” says the Whale Caller. “You don’t want to be all sweaty and breathless when you reach the hotel. I think you should take it easy, Saluni.”
“Why don’t you tell the truth, man,” says Saluni. “You just can’t keep up.”
“You stopped first, Saluni. Not me.”
She stopped because she’s just had a brilliant idea, she says. She must go to the mansion and get the Bored Twins and their parents to come with her to meet the radio man. When the mother hears the radio man outlining the big plans for their stardom and when she listens to the wonderful CD, she will finally get over her concerns. She will let the girls go off to conquer the world.
“But you said the parents spend all day away from the mansion,” says the Whale Caller.
“Why do you always want to come up with some obstacle, man? Don’t you want me to be a star?”
“I do, Saluni. I do. It’s just that I don’t want you to go all the way to the mansion only to find that the parents are not there.”
“If you had any good intentions you would have imagined that they are there since it is Sunday morning.”
She turns and takes a westerly direction and follows Main Road out of town. She walks very fast, sometimes breaking into a run. The man and the boy do likewise, until they reach the mansion. As good fortune would have it the donkey cart is parked outside. The father appears from around the corner pulling a donkey by the leather strap of its bridle. He is harnessing it to the cart when Saluni and her entourage arrive.
“There is no rest for the hungry,” he tells his visitors. “We are going out to collect bones and scrap metal.”
Saluni explains their mission. She confesses that during the Kalfiefees she took the girls to town to record. Now the radio man is back with the CD. The father must convince his wife to come and meet the radio man and listen to the CD. She outlines to the man the significance of this great event and the financial rewards that the family will reap. Saluni’s description of the beckoning stardom is so vivid that the man can see banknotes floating in front of his eyes. But he knows that when his wife hears that Saluni defied her and took her daughters to town, she will be so wrathful that no promises of lucre will make her go to the hotel to meet the man she believes is a thief of voices.
“Don’t tell her about it yet,” says Lunga Tubu. “Let it be a surprise.”
“You are a sly one,” says the Whale Caller. “It might just work. Just tell her that before you go to collect bones and scrap metal you must meet a man in town who may have an interesting business proposition for you.”
“At least now you two are becoming helpful instead of putting obstacles in my way,” says Saluni, obviously pleased with the suggestion. “We need the girls too, man. They must hear their CD. Come with the girls.”
“And how do I explain that to my wife? No, Saluni, you are asking for too much now,” says the father as he walks into the house.
After a few moments he returns with the mother. They all ride on the donkey cart to town. After crossing the Mossel River bridge into the suburb of Voelklip where the hotel is located, Saluni takes out a compact mirror from her sequinned handbag and looks at herself. She rearranges her hair. She applies a little blusher, some lipstick and mascara. She brushes her fur coat with her hands for any speck of dust that may have the temerity to sit on it.
The receptionist phones the radio man and he swaggers down from his room. He is taken aback to see the motley crew. After the introductions and assurances from Saluni that everyone present has a vested interest in the business at hand (which continues to remain nameless for the mother’s sake) he invites them to his room.