Black Blood

The peaks of the Andes rise above the hills in the distance. The swamp landscape has given way to hills. Here and there, large white boulders rise above the grass. The paths have changed to white stone mountain paths. We have left the trees behind. All that is visible are long green plains full of stone and water. The birds and ibexes have their homes here. We can conclude that after the large numbers we have already seen.

The day is longer and seems to get longer with every step. The sun is starting to make its way behind the horizon and a cold wind has picked up. We are lucky that the rain didn’t come, until now. The sky is grey and the water is falling in buckets. My dress is soaked through and hangs from my body like concrete. My hair hangs down like wet towels from my face and the cold is almost unbearable.

The conversations between me and Novak are steady. We are silent, looking ahead, trying to keep our eyes open through the blanket of rain. It won’t be long before we reach our accommodation.

It takes another half an hour of driving in the pouring rain before our accommodation appears behind the hills. At the foot of a big blue lake stands a small wooden house. The lake is huge, the other side is barely visible. On all sides of the lake, the hills stick out above it. As if it were a bowl that you made with your hands as a child to take water from the river. In the distance, a herd of goats walks, helping to keep the grass short.

Novak puts his horse into a gallop and rides towards the cottage. I follow his example and am glad that the cottage is finally visible. With Rave, this journey would have been so much easier. Rave. I miss him terribly. There were longer times when I didn’t see him, but the idea that I’ll never see him again is what eats me up. It’s the best decision for both of us, that’s what I try to tell myself.

Novak stops at the door, dismounts from his horse and ties the reins to the fences that stand in a series around the cottage. I follow his example and walk with Novak to the door. It doesn’t take long before the wooden door creaks open. An older woman with short grey hair and a brown dress stands in the doorway. Her facial expression is so neutral that I cannot tell if she is pleased to see us.

‘You’re late,’ is the first and only greeting we receive.

‘I apologise. We had some unexpected difficulties during the trip.’ Novak refers to the rain, crossing a big river and our departure being later than planned. The woman nods and takes a step aside. Together with Novak, I walk into the house. It is small and everything you see is made of wood, even all the furniture. The kitchen and living area are together less than ten square metres. In the middle of the room is a set dining table. There are dozens of candles burning, illuminating the house. Both on the furniture and on the floor are dozens of animal skins. At the side, a fireplace is burning. It is warm inside and the whole house smells of stew.

‘The food is on the fire and you can take it. Your room is the right door next to the kitchen. I won’t be here tonight. There is a goat about to give birth to a lamb so I have to be there. I’m assuming you’ll behave. I have a few house rules I’d like to remind you of. There will be no stealing or breaking of things, if this happens you will pay the price. The gas cooker must be switched off at night. The door is locked at night. I have the key so I can just go in. Are there any more questions?’ I don’t know to what extent you can call this a warm welcome, but anything is better than sleeping outside. She has cooked for us and offers us a warm bed, that’s all I can ask. The house is cosy, the food smells good and it is warm. I will survive a night here.

‘No, I have no questions. Thank you very much for your welcome and the food,’ I reply. The woman nods and walks to the coat rack. Somehow I am glad of her imminent absence. The woman has a certain stiffness about her, an authority. As if she could give me a lecture any moment about what I’m doing wrong.

‘What time do you think you’ll be leaving tomorrow?’ the woman asks as she shrugs on her long black coat.

‘Eight o’clock in the morning,’ replies Novak. In the meantime he has walked to the cooker and has already lifted several pan lids.

‘I’ll have breakfast ready. Make sure you are dressed before you leave the bedroom. I don’t like strange naked people’. I am amazed at the directness of this woman and it makes me uneasy. Novak, on the other hand, starts laughing.

Thank you, that’s settled. The woman nods one last time before she opens the door and leaves the house. My head is trying to process what has just happened. We have not been inside for ten minutes and the hostess has already left. She hasn’t even introduced herself.

‘Special woman’, says Novak while stirring a pot. I say that, and walk towards our bedroom door. I’m still walking in a soaking wet dress that seems dozens of pounds heavier than before. I open the bedroom door and find myself in a bedroom that fits the house perfectly. Everything is wooden except for the animal skins on the floor and on the bed. The bed is neatly made up with white sheets and several pillows. There is also a pile of folded clothes on the bed. As soon as I take the top garment from the pile, I see that it is a nightgown. I smile and start to undo the heavy dress. I drop the wet dress on the floor and step out of it. I borrowed the dress I was wearing from Alisha. It is blue with green embroidery. It has been a long time since I wore a dress I owned. Sometimes I feel like a beggar who needs everyone’s help and, to be honest, I hate that feeling. I hate being dependent on others. Which is a contradiction to the last few mornings when I’ve been nothing but dependent.

‘Dinner is ready,’ Novak calls out. I pull the nightgown over my head and walk back to the kitchen. Novak just puts the last pan on the table and turns to me. A smile appears on his face.That brings back memories,′ he says, walking in my direction. He refers to the month when we were hiding at Nelly’s place. We weren’t there for a positive reason, but I have many positive memories of that time. It has clearly made Novak and me closer. Novak grabs me gently by my waist and pulls me closer to him. Without saying a word, he presses a kiss to my lips and lets me go. It is a sweet and intimate gesture. There is no need to say anything.

‘Let’s eat before it gets cold.’ With these words, we both sit down at the table. There are three pans in front of me. In one is something that looks like a stew. The other is filled with boiled potatoes and the last contains green beans. It smells and looks good.

‘May I?’ Novak asks, holding out his hand to me. For a moment I don’t understand him until I understand that he wants my plate. I hand him my plate and let him spoon up my food. He gives me back my plate and starts scooping for himself. This is the first time in a long time that we are sitting at a table, just the two of us, without having to think about the danger of the door opening at any moment. It feels unreal not having to think about whether I’ll make it tomorrow.

‘Bon appetit,’ he says before sticking his fork in a potato.

‘Bon appetit,’ I say before I take the first bite of the stew. It may be predictable, but the food is delicious. Alisha was a good cook, but with this whole ambiance it seems ten times better than Alisha’s cooking skills. The crackling fire, the warmth, the peace and quiet and the delicious food make this the best day in ages. So much has happened in the past few months, so much that we really should talk about, but it can wait. At this moment, I don’t want to think about what was or will be. I want to be in this moment with Novak.

Novak seems to share that opinion because our entire meal is in silence. Not an uncomfortable or heavy silence but a silence that tells us to give the past a place and enjoy how we are sitting here now. I cannot describe in words my gratitude for the boy opposite me. He showed me what a normal life should be like, that intimacy can be fun and that not all men are like Christiaan. He gave me a life I didn’t know I was missing.

It is Novak who gets up as soon as we have finished eating. He starts clearing the table while I follow him with my eyes. That is when a thought that I had thought months ago to be indescribable and terrible enters my brain. That thought that I had hidden away in my head and labelled “not for me”, is now a thought that scares me a lot less and perhaps even excites me. That thought which I had hidden far away in my head and labelled “not for me”, is now a thought that scares me a lot less and perhaps even excites me.