The Trembling Read online

  THE TREMBLING

  By

  Wayne Roux

  THE TREMBLING

  Copyright 2014 Wayne Roux

  Special Acknowledgements:

  Editing and Proofreading by Joni Proper and Craig Banks

  Cover design by Cover Grafix

  Thank you for purchasing and downloading this eBook. This eBook remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes without his express permission. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to purchase or download their own copy at Amazon.com, where they can also discover other works by this author.

  Thank you for your support of Indie authors. Reviews are much appreciated.

  This book is dedicated to Craig Banks and Fiona Deane – both fans. One a nutcase artist with a wild imagination, who kept me laughing and writing, and the other a persistent pain who made sure I finished what I started – no matter what! I sincerely thank you both. Without you, this story would not have been completed.

  “The life I touch for good or ill, will touch another life, and that in turn will touch another, until who knows where the trembling stops or in what far place my touch will be felt.”

  - Frederick Buechner

  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.”