There are some people in this world that can’t bare it when others have fun. It’s as if they are allergic to it- like cat hair or bee stings. I’ve come to realize that some poor souls are just naturally born that way. They inherit a particularly deadly kill-joy gene that makes them impervious to anything enjoyable. They exuded that no-fun air everywhere they go, and like a pesticide being sprayed down on unsuspecting crops, they poison every social situation that they happen upon.

But I was surprised to find that my aunt had turned into one of those people; she had obviously taken the secret hand shake along with my father to become members of some radical fundamentalist group called ‘Sour Pusses against fun, frivolity and the like’.

I was so happy to finally see her when she’d knocked on my door that night. I have fond memories of her, my favorite fun aunt who let me eat cupcakes for breakfast, watch way too much TV with her and who taught me to do a backward summersault into the pool. Unfortunately after my mother’s death, things had changed. We lost that closeness and drifted apart. Sure there were the request phone calls on birthdays and Christmases, but nothing more. So I was looking forward to hopefully picking up where we’d left off.

So when the happy reunion took an unhappy turn, I was devastated. I sat there in shock as she scolded me about my behavior earlier; eating the snacks, drinking the drinks and ringing up a hefty phone bill to England. She even brought up the fact that Riaan had told her I was refusing to work. Suddenly I hated Riaan, he was part of this conspiracy to make sure my life was as shit as possible. The idea of him and my aunt having hushed conversations about me made me absolutely furious. But that wasn’t the part that hurt me the most, it was only when she dropped the dreaded ‘D’ word that the bottom of my world felt like it had fallen out, like those spinning rides at the fairground.

“Disappointed”

I hated that word.

“Zara,” He voice was scarily calm and monotone, “This behavior of yours, this total lack of consideration for others and the consequences of your actions is very disappointing. This is not the behavior of the sweet young girl I remember, and not the kind of behavior your mom would be happy to see if she is here,”

“Well, she’s not here, is she?” I snapped back, it was the only retort I could think of at the time.

My aunt didn’t rise to the bait though, “Your father and I are worried about you,”

I scoffed at the mere suggestion. “Charles couldn’t give a shit what I do, and I doubt very much whether you do either.”

But she just carried on talking in that monotone voice as if she’d written a script she was trying to get through. As if she’d almost rehearsed it.

“Do you realized that when you crashed your car the other night that you could have been seriously injured, or injured someone else,”

“But I didn’t.”

“Your father says you’re drinking a lot.”

I made no attempt to hide the wild rolling of my eyes, “Is this supposed to be an intervention or something?”

She ignored that last question and carried right on, “And Becky at the reception says you also drank a lot of wine from the bar fridge today too,”

“I’ll pay for it.” I said angrily.

“That’s not the point Zara.” She moved closer to me and tried to put her hand on my shoulder.

What a cheek!

After all these years she was suddenly worried about me.

I moved away from her, “You’re as bad as my father,” I said with scorn.

I turned my back to her and fought back the tears that were threatening to come. Why was I feeling so emotional? I

I heard my aunt get up, “I’m sorry you feel that way. Tomorrow you’re going to have to do some work around here, and I hope you will.”  There was a little pause, “It’s nice to see you Zara, even if it’s under these circumstance.”

Her words chocked me.

And then she was gone, and I was alone again with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company

I collapsed on the bed in a state of absolute despair. I struggled to get my aunts words out of my head; they kept repeating themselves, over and over again.

“Your mother wouldn’t be happy to see you like this.”

“Your mother wouldn’t be happy to see you like this.”

“Your mother wouldn’t be happy to see you like this.”

I felt queasy and suddenly wanted to shower and wash it all away. I peeled off the damp bikini and wrapped a towel around myself. I turned on the taps and waited for the water to some out. But it didn’t.

I turned them again to make sure they were completely open, and they replied with a loud grinding sound. The shower looked like it had been pieced together with missing parts; the taps were different and the showerhead was rusty and some of the holes were much too large. The pipes began to gurgle and hiss until a cascade of thick brown sludge came flying out. I jumped out of the way but not before I saw it. It was long, black and alive. I could only bring myself to glance down for a split second but it was long enough to see the writhing and thrashing of the wet slippery tail on the floor.

I shrieked louder than I’d ever shriek in my entire life.

“S  N  A  K  E  !  !  !  ! “

 “Snake, snake, snake, snake, snake, FUCKING snake”

Within seconds Riaan was in my room and a small crowd had gathered outside the door. I was mental with fright and stood on my bed, still with the towel still wrapped around me, pointing at the bathroom and shrieking in a high-pitched noise that was sure to break the sound barrier.

He disappeared into the bathroom and emerged a few seconds later with something dangling from his finger.

“It’s a worm,”

I shook my head violently, “No, it was definitely a snake. It was at least…” I held my hands up indicating the size, “At least this size.”

Riaan looked at me with exacerbated eyes, “Something that big could not have fitted through the shower head, what you saw was a worm, they often come up from the boreholes.”

“No! It was a snake. Please search my room. It could still be here. Please.”

He sighed in frustration, walked outside and placed the worm on the grass,

“The shows over guys.” He said to the onlookers who were all chuckling and whispering about the deranged British woman who had mistaken a tiny worm for an Anaconda.

I stayed perched on the bed while Riaan conducted a thorough sweep of my room. He left no stone unturned, looking under the bed, in the cupboards, in my suitcase and all the other nooks and crannies that something slippery could slither into. “

No snake.” He finally said without even looking at me and walked straight out the room. The door closed and once again, I was alone.

I jumped off the bed and ran to the window to watch him walk around the corner and disappear. Suddenly thoughts of kissing and monopoly and shitty tasting coffee flooded my brain and I longed for that moment again. I wished there was some way I could take it all back and fix it. I wanted him to come back to my room.

“Even though you kicked him out of it the other morning” A voice in my head suddenly asked. I ignored it.

Finally I plucked up the courage to return to the bathroom and climbed into the shower. The warm water felt good, even though it stung my grazed knees and the scratches on my back from the thorns.

I finished showering, got dressed into my pajamas and sat on the bed. My watch said 9:00 PM- I had the whole dark, lonely, black night ahead of me with nothing to do and no one to talk to. The magazine that I’d bought at the airport managed to hold my attention for an entire ten minutes, and my new nail polish kept me busy for another ten.

I got up and attempted to make myself a cup of coffee but I hadn’t been paying attention when Riaan had shown me how to use the hot plate. I was so desperate for caffeine though that I considered drinking a cup of cold coffee, or eating a spoon of instant granules. I did a little loitering in the kitchen area, sat on the sofa paging through the same magazine again. I got up and loitered by the dressing room table, I loitered here and there and everywhere, but I was never any good at loitering.

I looked at my watch again, 9:45. The minutes were dragging and I was dying inside. This was pure torture. I was almost hysterical with this urge to do something. Anything. Talk to someone. Anyone.

I wondered how I could get Riaan back here, even if it was only for two minutes and even if he did hate me, it was better than nothing. It was better than being alone in this room.

I grabbed a cup and my jar of instant coffee and headed out into the cold night. Just because we weren’t on speaking terms and just because he didn’t like me, didn’t mean I couldn’t borrow some hot water from him. Surely he wouldn’t begrudge me that.

I knocked on his door. He didn’t seem surprised to see me.

“I was wondering if I could have some hot water?” I asked as sweetly as possible holding out my cup.

“What’s wrong with yours?” He didn’t look amused.

“I don’t know how to use that hot plate thing-“

“But I showed you how to---“ He stopped dead in the middle of his sentence, a flash of anger glinted in his eyes and it cut me to the quick, “Oh I forgot, you don’t remember the other night.”

He marched past me in the direction of my room and I followed behind him.

“Here” He said like a pre- school teacher, “Turn the gas on, hold this button down and then light it with a match. But be careful not to put your hand to close, because sometime it will burst into flames.”

“Thanks,” I smiled at him but it seemed to have absolutely no effect.

“Is there anything else?” His question was insincere and sarcastic, but I thought I should seize the opportunity anyway.

“My toilet, it makes a loud noise when it flushes” That was a total lie of course, but it was all I could think of.

“I’m not a plumber.” He looked offended and started walking away.

“But what if it starts leaking or something. It’s there a drought in Africa. Don’t you have to save water?”

He ran his hands through his hair in a way that somehow seemed to show his contempt for me, “Fine! I’ll take a look.”

But after flushing it and finding no fault whatsoever, he made another move for the door.  I tried to think fast, but I was running out of ideas, “I saw a heater in the cupboard, would you mind showing me how to use it, “

This time he rolled his eyes as he pulled out the heater and then demonstrated how to plug it into the wall and press the giant red button that said “ON”.

I smiled again, but all my sweet smiling hadn’t had the slightest effect on his countenance. He started moving towards the door again and a bolt of panic gripped me.

“Wait. “ My voice was loud and the word sounded rushed and frantic.

“What?” He had his back to me, but I could almost see the irritation in his expression.

“I…. I….” I actually had no idea what I was going to say. A million possibilities were running through my head.

“I want you to stay with me. Please.”