The Makaka Girl

By Rachel van As

Sherri writes about all the difficulties she had faced in taking wrong off-turns and discuss that events as well as the road for the last five years of her life. Join this journey in the turbulent lives of Sherri and her family as she find hope and peace at last at a place she never knew existed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rachel van As
• Release date: Jul 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005278137

Rachel van As

I grew up with two of my siblings in a small town in the Free State. Although I had been born in the big city I would retain the characteristic influences of a strict upbringing in my life. I had started working as a cashier in a supermarket. From there I would work as a typist for the Department of Water Affairs and Forestry. In later years I got my certificate in Nursing and it was in my later years working as an Assistant-Nurse in an Old Age Home that I felt inspired to write this ebook of A Nestle of Nettles. Reading had become part of my life since childhood and I would read anything I could get my hands on. During my High School years a lovely old lady Miss Ford from England instilled in me the love and passion for reading and learning English. I can still visualize her in her wheelchair with a knitted blanket folded over her legs and tucked in the sides. Her silver grey hair was always tied up neatly in a bun and she would look at us pupils over the rim of her black spectacles. A brooch always attired her silk blouse and she would always be dressed immaculately. She never raised her voice at anybody and she always received the respect she gave to others. Miss Ford truly was a Legend in her own right.

Book preview

THE MAKAKA GIRL

By Rachel van As

Rev 07.01.2022

Copyright Rachel van As 2022

Smashwords Edition License Note:

This ebook is made available to Smashwords for the purpose of distributing, copying and selling to other platforms on my behalf in accordance to an agreement we both agreed to.

Also by Rachel van As

Maryna(coming soon)

A FOREWORD TO THIS BOOK OF MINE: As the winds of change sweep through everybody’s lives and deepen the frowns and laughter lines on one’s face one tends to look back on life and analyze why the path one was given in life held so many stumbling blocks: roads that seemed to lead you through the desert; roads that held mountains; swamps, torrents in full flood and thorns to stick up your backside. Roads that also held a patch of grass and a nourishing oasis. While you are analyzing your nightmares and disgraces you discover that it had been your own mistakes that had caused you anguish, fear and anger. We cause our own hell or heaven. It is the old universal fact of life that for every action there will be a re-action. If you do not abide by nature’s laws you will be eradicated or thrashed with the invisible sjambok of life. In this non-fictional novel Sherri writes this story about her hazardous but amazing journey through life especially almost at its end. She writes about serious issues some young people go through and want to tell them about all the dangers she had encountered and addictions she had clung to for as long as she can remember. She also shares her family and extended family’s troubles and tells about some of their struggles, their heartaches and their joys. She shares her most humiliating and most happy experiences with you. Sherri has come a long way and had made that one crucial decision to love herself and be proud of her accomplishments in life even if it were to just raise her kids to become their own persons with their own lives and minds. Sherri is writing this book through the logical sense of her own mind. She dedicates this book to her four children whom had been a shining beacon on the shore; lighting her way through stormy seas in times she thought the furious waves would bash her against the rocks. That single beacon she had clung to in days of desperation and despair. Their love for each other had carried her through all the dark days. Love is a fabric nobody can destroy. They all had gone through hell and high water to survive and today she is proud of her children. All four are grown, lovely young folks that hold good posts. All four had seen hell and knew deep in their hearts which path they would take.

01 THE MAKAKA GIRL

The litter was scattered in an untidy semi-arc upon the stoned pavement. It contained the normal rubbish: plastic bags, rotten vegetables and peels, polystyrene used for meat-packing, tins, and the main attracter--baby-nappies --soiled nappies. Sherri grimaced while picking up the stuff. Her son-in-law, Ron had asked her to pick it up as she was helping with their household chores during the week. But this young new dog of Ron—a pure-bred Weimaraner, had torn the refuse bag open during the night to eat any edibles there were. Sherri knew young dogs got always hungry and on top of that will tear or chew any object within easy reach—especially those with a distinctive smell about them. She can remember placing the bag on the old barbecue area as she usually had done for the past seven years as one could not place it on the street for collection yet. If placed outside on the sidewalk it would be torn to pieces by roaming street-dogs, as happened a few years ago when she had returned home during a tea-break at work and found the driveway littered with rubbish--the whole length of it. She had fifteen minutes to retrieve everything and put in a new refuse bag. Having resigned her job at the Old Age Home after being harassed and intimidated with countless summons, Sherri was sure she would get a new private nursing job in no time. This had not happened and now the kids were stuck with her. It was as if the thirteen years she had toiled at the Old age Home were in vain: she could show nothing: the little pension she had received after waiting six months for it was spent in less than a week on various stuff: on fixing her two cars: the black Golf and her very old pick-up Isuzu. She also had paid her son-in-law, Ron, in advance for the year of 2018’s rent and had settled her youngest daughter’s clothing accounts--helping her to start afresh on a clean account-slate but afterwards this had proved to be a bad idea as Poppy had accumulated the debt on the account in no time. Poppy was in that age group that did not care much about accumulating debt. Sherri thought about that particular day while Poppy was still at school in her eleventh grade--when she had started dreaming of becoming a hair-dresser. On the ‘Day of information for careers’ held at the school annually, Poppy had picked up a brochure on hair-dressing classes at an academy in a big town and had urged her mother to drive them there. Sherri knew about her last daughter’s dreams and supported her where she could. So when Poppy asked her to search and visit the academy she felt good in wanting to make her dreams come true. They set out early that morning to travel the lovely but scary road between the two towns. At some points the water of the great dam was so near to the road one could throw a stone into it. The road travelled over mountain-passes—up and down very steep roads and at one pass it was almost as steep with a gradient of almost 80 degrees! Brakes failed here a lot—especially those of huge carriers. This had happened in 2014 when Sherri and her daughters had become stranded as they were on their way to visit Steven in the hospital. A huge traffic jam had bottled up all the vehicles on the steep pass. A beer-lorry had lost its cargo and beer and glass were strewn over a great stretch. Looters were loading loads of intact beer-bottles and cans into their vehicles. Sherri would have joined in the party but was held back by her daughters. To her utter dismay.

Steven had passed away in the next year at his favorite place—his home, with Sherri next to him—fast asleep and oblivious to such a dreadful happening. Not a sound or touch from him to disturb her—in a blink of an eye. Always a feeling of dread would accompany Sherri if she had to drive that road as she just wanted to get the hell out of there. It was also on this road that a policeman had murdered a young woman and thrown her body on the tar of the road during one night. ‘Tossed out like a bag of rubbish.’ The headline yelled. This outing with Poppy happened in 2017 when Sherri was still working at the old age home, just shy of her last hearing which resulted in her packing her bags. If they succeeded in locating the academy she would take out a loan to pay for her daughter’s tuition and board. Her mind had already become tortured with the taunting and frolicking of paper money with laughing faces: frolicking and playing and jumping into bottomless pits and holes. Sherri could still remember Poppy with her blonde hair in a tight pony-tail to relieve the sweating and sticking of hair to her neck and face--her neck careening out of the car-window to read the name boards of streets with strange names—the pamphlet clutched by a white hand with long tapered fingers with bright pink polish on them. An empty tank and boiling radiator as the sun reached its zenith necessitated their return—much to the relief of Sherri; which she kept to herself. Oh Poppy there will be other chances. This is not a dead end. But I think for now Karma did not place it on your path. It is not in the cards for you my darling. Sherri had said with sadness in her voice. You just hold fast to your dreams and never let it go. Someday your dream will be fulfilled. When the time is right. Sherri had told her as she held her daughter’s sad blue eyes with her own: wanting her daughter to believe her, to trust her it would become true one day. It was back to home in the hot lowlands beneath the great dam.

Sherri felt still bereaved in this second year after Steven’s passing and still can remember the cruel words and bitter clashes between them before he had been sent to hospital. You are not better than a whore; as a matter of fact even a whore is better than you, for she would name her price and admit at being a whore. You and that twitchy bastard; twitching and twirling and riding you like a horse. Are you not ashamed of yourself? It must have felt great while you were rubbing his bald head with his hot passion breathing into your face. You have taken my soul out of me. I cannot help for the situation I am in. I am an ill man on death’s threshold and you whore and go on as if there is no tomorrow. Steven had shouted in anger at her. Sherry and Pete had only been intimate two times and it had happened when she was at a low point in her life: Steven and she would drink and drink and Sherri wanted a better life for Poppy and herself. The road she was on was leading her nowhere: she was not married to Steven and could still make choices: She wanted to be with Pete as he did not drink and did not smoke and could support them both financially. But that had only become a farce and an illusion Sherri treated herself to. She never would leave Steven as she was his carer and committed to it. At having heard those weary accusations one too many times she had crashed an ashtray over Steven’s head one night –as precaution in self-defense— he was having the same look in his eye that night he had broken her rib. The epileptic fits started soon after and Sherri was scared that the ashtray may have brought it on. She never told the doctor that had referred him to hospital about that. She kept it to herself. The house had grown very silent after he had left and also after he had returned. No accusations, no cussings; no venomous name-callings: just peace and quiet and bliss. She could not believe the serenity that had returned to their life. He must have forgotten to swear at her! Sherri had found that the pastor—his Sister-- had inserted herself into their lives and kept daily tabs on his doings and happenings with her mind set only on his money situation. He had told her about the selling of the house and she lay ready waiting to pounce--her talons poised, her snaking tongue sensing her pray. Steven would also tell Milla rubbish things like how much Sherri drank or that she was so drunk that she fell from the bed. Once she heard him say: Oh Sherri had fallen from the bed again last night. Sherri could hear his sister reply: Oh, no not again! He loved speaking and taunting one of his exes ‘Magda Millionaire’ who seemingly always had a double-bed ready for him--his great fan. Sherri did not care for such frivolous behavior. But Steven had kept Milla posted and when the money was received for the house he had sold it disappeared immediately: leaving them only a tit-bit to buy lots of toilet-paper to wipe their arses with--of course after they had shitted themselves. Although she got a third of the money the rest was paid toward ‘debt’ he had occurred while at hospital and at an old age home. His brother also received his share of the ‘spoils.’ Sherri learned to accept shit and not row her boat against the roaring torrents. "I can say that Sherri moved in with this man, Steven as it was the most convenient for her: it was near her work and so she did not have to ride in taxis with drunken