The Trembling

Chapter 1

The driver of the metallic silver Mazda 3 was keeping his eye on the heat gauge, which was neatly set in the dashboard behind the steering wheel. The tiny needle had crept above the halfway mark and was now hovering below the red section, threatening to set off all the alarm bells in the world if they eventually met each other. The sudden sound of a car horn blaring angrily from behind made the driver look up and at the car behind him. He could barely make out the shape of the driver in the vehicle through the reflection of burnt orange sky on the other car’s windscreen, but raised his hand apologetically anyway. He shifted the Car into gear and drove forward, covering the few short metres between himself and the car in front, before the line of traffic came to a standstill again. It had been this way for at least twenty minutes; bumper to bumper congestion on the N2 highway towards the seaside village of Gonubie, twenty kilometres out of East London on the eastern coastline of South Africa. It was almost six pm, mid-October, and the sun would set completely in the next thirty minutes or so.

Further blasting of the horn from the car behind them had Blake Turner clenching his hands on the steering wheel.

What’s this guy’s problem, he thought? Hooting wasn’t going to speed up the traffic. He shook his head resignedly, before turning to the passenger seated next to him.

You okay, Mom?

The older woman, in her mid-forties, smiled back at him and nodded. She looked tired, and Blake was concerned - more so than he dared say out loud. They were returning from a doctor’s appointment in town. Blake had left work early in order to fetch his mother from their townhouse in Gonubie, and drive her through to the doctor’s offices at the Medicross centre in Berea. She had been complaining of stomach pains for the past few days already, and it had taken all of Blake’s persuasion skills to convince her to make the appointment. The doctor had performed several tests and scans, and had promised feedback on these within the next two days. In the meantime, Sharon Turner had been given some pain medication as a temporary relief.

These pills are making me drowsy, that’s all she said.

This damn traffic. Blake cursed softly. It gets worse every year.

The small car in front of them, a peculiarly shaped bright yellow Ford Ka, had started moving forward again, and then jerked suddenly - a plume of steam erupting from under the hood. Blake could hear the hissing sound it made as the driver - a woman - put her hazard lights on and tried to pull over to the left, into the emergency lane. The little car had decided that was not going to happen, and had stalled instead. Almost immediately the impatient driver in the car behind them lay into his horn again - the sound slicing through Blake’s head like a meat cleaver.

Great. Blake shook his head. Just what we need.

The poor girl. Sharon Turner said sympathetically. Go give her a hand.

Really? Blake asked. That’s going to put us even further back in the queue.

His mother frowned at him. I raised you to be a gentleman, didn’t I?

Blake chuckled. You did, mother, you did. I’m just worried about you, that’s all. You need to get home and into bed.

I’ll be fine. Go help the girl.

Blake nodded, before pulling into the emergency lane to the left of the stricken vehicle. He switched the car off and opened the door. The incredible heat outside slammed into him as though it were a Springbok front row rugby player, and he was a skinny All Black wing, holding the ball. He closed the door hurriedly behind him, not wanting to let the cool air from the air-conditioner escape. As he made his way around the back of the yellow Ford, the impatient driver that had been behind them closed the gap where Blake’s car had been. He was driving a black BMW 3-series, and revved the engine angrily as he stopped mere inches away from the Ford’s rear bumper. He blasted the horn again.

Blake turned to glare at the driver, who was still just a shadowy shape in the reflective windscreen, shaking his head in disapproval and raising his hand to ask the man to wait. When he reached the driver’s door of the stricken car, he leaned down and smiled in at the driver, a young and pretty girl.

Need some help? he asked.

She squinted up at him, somewhat embarrassed and frustrated. For a moment the sun caught a shiny silver clip in her hair, flashing brightly back into Blake’s eyes. He crouched down on his haunches beside her window.

It just died. She said, smiling hesitantly back at him.

For an instant Blake felt his heart skip a beat. The girl was really pretty - even bordering on beautiful - with her long brown hair tied up in a loose bun, and the startling green of her eyes mesmerising, as they danced in his direction, seemingly looking straight through him and into his soul.

I noticed. He replied, surprised to find his throat suddenly dry. It looks like a water-hose that burst. Let’s get you off the road.

Thank you. She replied, relieved.

He stood up and made his way to the back of the car, ready to push it forward.

Move that piece of shit.

The angry shout came from behind him, and Blake turned to glare at the BMW. The driver was leaning out of his window now, gesturing his hand angrily, and spittle flying from his mouth.

Take it easy. Blake said calmly. Can’t you see I’m working on it? Instead of honking your horn the whole time, why don’t you get out and give us a hand?

Why don’t you go fuck yourself? the angry man yelled back.

I beg your pardon? Blake frowned, anger welling up inside.

Forget him. The girl said, looking back at Blake from her window, the slight breeze lifting the hair from her brow and dropping it back gently again. She seemed to be getting nervous, and was obviously embarrassed about causing the backup in traffic.

The anger quickly dissipated, and Blake nodded, shaking his head momentarily. He placed his full weight behind the car and gave it a push, while the girl steered it towards the side of the road. It was surprisingly heavy for such a small car, and he immediately broke into a light sweat. After several muscle-aching seconds the car finally came to a stop, parked awkwardly in front of his car. He straightened and wiped his brow. The girl had climbed out by then and approached him. She was a head shorter than Blake was, despite the added height of the bun of hair on the top of her head, and she was wearing a light flowery summer dress with a pair of brown leather flat shoes. Blake couldn’t help but notice how the perfect curves of her body teased the fabric of the dress and his imagination simultaneously. He felt like a school boy, crushing on the unattainable cheerleader.

My hero. she smiled. I don’t know how to thank you.

Slow down there, miss. Blake smiled back, blushing and averting his eyes from the distraction of her toned body. I’m not done yet. We can’t exactly leave you here on the side of the road, now can we.

We?

Oh. He gestured at his car. My mother and I.

The girl shielded her eyes from the sun and waved towards where Sharon Turner was seated in the passenger seat of Blake’s car. Sharon waved back, smiling ridiculously.

Blake shook his head. He knew exactly what his mother was thinking right now. She had been trying to set him up on blind dates with her friends daughters’ for months, always carrying on about how Blake shouldn’t wait too long, and how it was important that he settle down before he got too old. The sight of this pretty girl, single and in trouble, had obviously kicked her imagination into overdrive again.

Single? How could you know that? Blake chuckled at the thought, not surprised that the first thing he had looked for when he saw the girl for the first time was the presence of a ring on her finger. Had all his mother’s lecturing finally begun wearing him down? The fact that she wasn’t wearing a ring did little to ease his nervousness.

She’s pretty. The girl said.

I’m sorry?

Your mom - she’s pretty for her age.

Well, thank you.

It’s not your doing. She chuckled. I think she was pretty way before you came along.

Yeah, I know. Blake fumbled, confused as to why he was blushing. I just meant…

The cursed blaring of the horn cut his words short, as the BMW took the space where the girl’s car had been. Blake noticed the driver was glaring angrily at them through the passenger window. It rolled down and he shouted through it.

Stay off the fucking roads, you village idiots.

Blake was about to reply, when he caught a movement to his left, and was surprised to see the girl raising her middle finger at the uncouth driver. He couldn’t help but laugh out loud. For a moment the perplexed driver was silenced, obviously amazed by the gesture he was being offered, and Blake was ready to believe he’d now finally move on, but to his surprise the driver switched his car off and opened the door angrily instead.

Who the fuck do you think you are, you little bitch. he spat, as he marched around the front of his car, ignoring the protesting drivers behind him. He was headed straight for the girl, and Blake found himself stepping between them almost instinctively. His heart was racing furiously, as the incident was bringing back memories of school yard fights, most of them on the losing end, and he was finding it hard to believe that he was back in that situation again, after all these years.

The angry driver was both taller and wider than Blake, by large amounts, and the intense look of fury on his face only added an unappealing menace to his towering demeanour. He was dressed in a grey business suit, the pale blue of his shirt stained in sweat around the collar where the tie had earlier been yanked off. The suit and the man’s actions did not seem to fit. The anger in him was almost tangible. He paused a few feet from where Blake was standing, trying awkwardly to protect the tiny girl behind him.

What are you going to do? the driver spat angrily at Blake. I’ll wipe you off the face of this earth, you little shit.

Relax. Blake replied. I know you’re worked up. It’s hot, the traffic’s a killer, and everybody wants to get home, but just take it easy.

Tell your little bitch with the itchy finger to take it fucking easy. the driver yelled, Blake’s words only seeming to anger him more.

Hey. Blake snapped back, starting to feel anger himself now. That’s a lady you’re talking about.

It’s okay. The girl said from behind him, touching Blake gently on the shoulder. I apologise, sir. I wasn’t thinking.

No. the driver laughed now, a crazy sound on the side of the highway. You’re damn right, you weren’t. I’d imagine it’s not something you’re used to doing, is it? Thinking.

That’s enough! Blake yelled suddenly, deciding he’d had enough of this bully and his verbal abuse.

What is it, pussy? the driver stepped closer to Blake, almost nose to nose, glaring down at him as beads of sweat ran down the side of his face, and the slightest stench of sweat and liquor-breath closed the gap between them. What are you going to do?

In his mind, Blake could see himself raising his fist suddenly and punching the brute in the throat, but even before he could translate the thought into an action, he felt the strange sensation in his stomach begin… the wave of calm that was growing in there, like a seed sprouting into a plant, stabbing through his organs and entering his blood stream, filling his entire body with warmth… and something else… something surreal. The tentacle fingers of this sensation seemed to pierce through his outer skin, radiating towards the man who towered over him, as if drawn to the darkness that was his soul. Instead of a fist, Blake found himself inexplicably raising the palm of his hand and placing it gently against the angry driver’s chest.

His actions were controlled and calm, the actions of a fearless man, but inside he was thinking:

I’m going to die.

Chapter 2

Blake seemed to have completely confused the angry driver. For a moment he glanced between the hand on his chest and the couple in front of him, frowning and uncertain, but the moment passed quickly and the confusion was replaced with anger again as he grabbed Blake’s wrist.

What the fuck do you think…?

Blake felt himself directing the warm tentacle sensation in his body towards his outstretched hand, felt his palm tingle against the fabric of the suit, and almost instantly the driver stopped talking. Instead, he stared blankly at Blake for few seconds, as if he had been temporarily hypnotized, before stepping uncomfortably backwards, breaking the contact between them. He looked around uncertainly, as if unsure of what had just happened, as if he had forgotten why he was there. He swallowed hard, pulling at the collar of his shirt as if trying to get more air, before he unexpectedly swung around and returned to his car, starting the engine and driving away without another word, to join the rest of the slow-moving traffic headed towards Gonubie.

Blake felt an immense sense of relief as he turned to face the girl, the adrenalin pumping through his veins.

Did you see that…? he asked, smiling broadly, but the smile became a frown when he noticed the confusion and fear on the girl’s face. She was trembling, despite the impressive humidity, and Blake placed his hand on her shoulder. Hey. It’s okay. He’s gone now. Relax.

The girl shook her head and gave a weak smile. I’m fine.

You’re shaking like a leaf.

It was just a shock, I guess. How can somebody get so angry… over nothing?

Blake shrugged. Stress, I guess. Anyway, forget about Road Rage Man. It’s over. My name is Blake, by the way. Blake Turner. And the lovely lady in the car there is Sharon.

She placed her hand in his, and the soft sensation of her skin sent tiny ripples of electricity through Blake’s body.

Jade. She smiled. Jade Vega.

That sounds exotic.

She nodded, smiling. I guess. So what happens now, Mr. Turner?

Well, Miss Vega, I guess we call a tow-truck and wait. Luckily for you I have a friend in the business. We’ll get you home in no time.

That’s sweet of you. She smiled. Thank you, once again.

Blake waved her away. It’s nothing, really. Come, take a seat in my car while we wait. I’ve got the air-con running – it’s a lot better than out here in this heat.

He led her to the rear door of the Mazda, opening it up for her. As she climbed in, her dress crept up, revealing her golden brown shapely legs, and Blake’s heart skipped a beat. He quickly closed the door and moved over to the front passenger window, which wound down as he approached.

Mom he said, This is Jade. Jade… my mother, Sharon. I’m just going to make a quick phone call – can you pass me my cell?

Sharon Turner frowned as she handed it to him.

That man was really angry. I was worried he was going to do something stupid.

It’s over. Blake smiled. Forget him.

He stepped away from the car, leaving the two women to get to know each other.

The sun had almost set by this time, and as Blake dialled the number of his tow-truck friend, he admired the way the sky was turning a deep shade of purple, forming a beautiful backdrop to the row of red taillights of the cars lined up along the highway for as far as he could see. He turned away as his friend picked up, and after a few minutes he hung up, returning to the driver’s side and climbing in.

Eddie will be here in about half an hour. He said, turning to face Jade in the back seat.

I feel terrible that you have to wait here with me. Jade replied. Really, you guys can go ahead. I’ll be fine.

Nonsense. Sharon exclaimed. We’re in no rush, right Blake?

Blake nodded. Sure. It’s no hassle.

Well, thank you, both of you. She smiled sheepishly. I’m really lucky you came along.

So Jade stays in Gonubie as well. Sharon said to Blake, as if she had just handed him an important piece of information from the President.

Really? Blake said, frowning at his mother.

Yes. Jade replied. My father and I moved here a few months ago from Stellenbosch. He is an engineering consultant and we tend to move around a lot.

That’s fascinating. Sharon said. Blake is an engineer too. He designs and manufactures vaults for banks.

Blake laughed. No, not really. I work for a vault manufacturer. There’s a difference.

It’s the same thing. Sharon brushed him off. That company wouldn’t be where it is today if it wasn’t for you, and you know it.

Well, I think it’s interesting, either way. Jade smiled, catching Blake’s eye for the briefest moment before looking sheepishly away. And where is Mr. Turner?

You mean Blake’s father? Sharon asked, and Jade nodded. We lost him several years ago – to cancer, unfortunately.

I’m so sorry. Jade apologized. That’s awful.

Sharon nodded. It was. He was only 59 year’s old. She paused for a moment, the silence filled with the slightest after-taste of grief, but she quickly pushed it aside. He was a good man, and he had a good life. And, most importantly, he raised a good son. She added, rubbing Blake’s shoulder.

Yes, he did. Jade smiled. My hero. She paused for a moment. My mother passed away when I was really young too, so I guess I understand a little – my father has shaped who I am today as well.

You should taste Blake’s cooking. Sharon smiled back, changing the entire subject. He makes the best lasagne. A light-bulb seemed to have gone off in her head as she suddenly turned excitedly to look at Jade. Why don’t you come over for supper some time?

Mom. Blake scolded. Leave the poor girl alone.

Jade smiled, glancing briefly across at Blake. I’d love to.

Sharon beamed a smile at Jade before turning to Blake. He could tell how proud she was of herself just by looking at the smug grin on her face.

Great. He chuckled. I guess I’m cooking for three again soon.

Four. Sharon added. Why don’t you bring your father along too?

Jade shifted uncomfortably in her seat. I’m not sure that would be possible. My dad’s kind of private. He doesn’t really interact well with others, if that makes any sense.

Okay. Sharon nodded. He’s shy. I get that. Well then, you come anyway. We’ll eventually get around to warming your father up.

It sounds as if this is going to be a long-term friendship, then. Jade smiled.

Blake felt an overwhelming sense of butterflies in his stomach every time she looked at him, and he was still trying to come to terms with the sensation.

How’s tomorrow night? Sharon asked eagerly.

Saturday? Perfect. Jade replied.

Great.

They were distracted by an orange flashing light from behind, and Blake checked the rear-view mirror to see the familiar shape of the 1-ton tow truck that belonged to his friend, pulling up behind them.

Help is here. He said, as he opened the door and stepped out, heading over to the truck.

He shook hands with his friend, quickly gave him a breakdown of what they needed, and then returned to the car as the truck overtook them on the left-hand shoulder of the road, pulling up in front of Jade’s car. The driver proceeded to hoist her car up with the wheel-lift mechanism on the back of the pickup and after a few short minutes waved back at them that he was ready.

Where to? Blake asked, starting the car.

Ninth Avenue. Jade replied, and Blake swung the car out into the line of traffic, which had started diminishing and was now flowing a lot easier. The tow truck, with Jade’s car in tow, fell in behind them as they crawled towards the nearby off-ramp into Gonubie.

They pulled up in front of Jade’s house a little less than a half an hour later. By this time the sun had set completely, the narrow street outside the house lit only by a few streetlights, casting their pale yellow glow from above. Blake guided Eddie as he reversed the tow truck into the driveway, parking it on the side of the yard, out of the path of other vehicles that may need access. Once his friend had unhooked the vehicle, he walked over to where Blake and Jade were standing.

All set, buddy.

Thanks, man. Blake said, shaking Eddie’s hand. How much do I owe you?

Don’t be silly. Eddie smiled. We go way back.

No, please. Jade objected. Really, how much?

Eddie waved her away. I don’t charge my friends. Here… he reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it to Jade. This is the number of a mechanic friend of mine. Drop my name and he’ll give you a good discount on repairing that radiator hose.

Thank you so much. Jade beamed. I really appreciate that.

Any friend of Blake’s, is a friend of mine.

He said goodbye and climbed into his car, pulling away before they could convince him to change his mind about accepting payment.

You really saved my ass today. Jade turned to Blake. I don’t know how to thank you.

Take my mother up on that dinner invitation. Blake replied before thinking, and almost immediately wanted to take his words back, but it was too late. It will make her happy. He added awkwardly.

It’s a deal. Tomorrow night, right?

Right.

Right.

They stared at each other for a moment, before Jade burst out laughing. So do I get an address?

Blake blushed suddenly, realising that he’d never told her where they lived, and feeling idiotic for forgetting. I’m sorry. Let me write it down for you.

He found an old till slip from a Pick n Pay supermarket in his pocket and wrote their address on the back of it.

I put my cell number there as well. He said, half embarrassed, as he handed it to her. Just in case you get lost.

I won’t. she smiled, taking the piece of paper and placing it in her handbag, pulling out a business card in the process. But thanks anyway. Here’s my card.

Blake took the card from her, studying it briefly. It was black, with a surreal twist of pink smoke in the background and the picture of a beautiful red and white burning candle on the foreground. The words were written in bold white letters:

VEGA CANDLES.

You make candles? Blake asked, as he tucked the card into his pocket. That’s fascinating.

It’s something I’ve always loved doing. She smiled.

So are you sure you’ll be alright from here? Blake asked, looking up at the house which was still dark, except for a few outside lights.

I’ll be fine. Jade replied. My dad will be home soon anyway, and he’ll be hungry so I guess I should start supper.

Okay then.

Okay.

Blake stood there awkwardly for a moment, not sure if he should lean in and hug his new friend, or just turn and walk away, but Jade raised her hand towards him. He took it in his, shaking it gently, thrilled once again at the soft touch of her skin.

See you tomorrow. He said finally, before forcing himself to turn and walk down the driveway.

Once he’d started the car and made a quick U-turn in the narrow road, he headed off towards their house, on the other side of the seaside village. He drove in silence, replaying the events of the past hour in his mind, struggling to get the image of Jade out of his thoughts.

You look like the cat that swallowed the mouse. Sharon Turner gloated beside him, and Blake looked at her, frowning as if she was crazy.

What are you talking about? he asked, trying to sound surprised.

You know. His mother smiled at him. I wasn’t born yesterday. You like this girl.

Blake shrugged nonchalantly. She’s okay.

Ha.

What do you mean, ha?

Ha. Sharon repeated.

Blake chuckled and shook his head, leaning forward and turning up the volume on the car stereo, which was tuned to the local radio station. They were playing one of Pink’s latest hits, and he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in tune to the song as they approached the traffic lights on Main Road, trying hard to wipe the stupid smile off his face. The traffic lights were green for them, but the line of cars in front were not moving, and Blake waited patiently behind them, trying to see past the motionless vehicles to figure out what the delay was. He could just make out the flashing blue lights of a Traffic Officer’s vehicle up ahead at the intersection.

What is it? Sharon asked, craning her neck to try and see for herself.

It looks like an accident or something.

After a few minutes without moving, Blake noticed some of the drivers of the vehicles in front of them were climbing out and walking towards the intersection. He switched the car’s engine off and opened his door.

I’m going to check it out. He said, leaning back in to speak to his mother. If it looks like it’s going to take a while, we can turn around and make a detour.

Okay. She nodded solemnly. I hope everyone’s alright, though.

He closed the car’s door and followed the few people