The next day Rudd is up at dawn to say goodbye to the helicopter bound for Harare. On board, as decreed by the doctors, are Fred and Bernard, and, after a little persuasion, Marybelle. Rudd waves until the glinting speck disappears into the blue, then he heads back up to the lodge, where a text from Hansie pings on to his mobile.

“Arrived. All fine. Tried calling no luck. Aneke and Ruan got lift to Harare. Hope tea estate roads sorted. Will get bus to main road junction midday for last guests.”

Rudd considers the message, the roads, and the guests he has left – including Hansie’s mother Karen, her elderly cousins, and a not very mobile, middle-aged couple from Harare. He finalises a plan and explains it to the group when they gather for morning tea, and the last of the bread. All are relieved to hear that they will be on their way out that morning.

The first task is to get passengers and luggage to the top of the hill. Rudd does several trips on foot with an assortment of bags, before escorting the not so young up to where his truck and Father Norman’s are waiting.

Once he has loaded the guests into the vehicles, and padded the luggage into place around them, he leads the way down, the battered mission truck following precisely in his tracks. It is not an easy journey for anyone. Those in the front of the vehicles are especially nervous, and those crammed into the back especially uncomfortable, but any complaints are silenced by the devastation beyond the lodge.

The tea factory is nothing but twisted metal and broken sheets of corrugated roofing, its perimeter patched here and there with fallen trees, and smashed avocadoes. Both sides of the dirt road beyond it are washed away in places, with only just enough firm ground left on which to coax the trucks along. Slowly, slowly they make progress, passing rockfalls, flooded ditches, destroyed homes, electricity lines swinging listlessly from leaning poles, and the occasional straggle of tired families, the mothers with belongings balanced on their heads, and their babies strapped to their backs. There are no happy children calling out for sweets.

The journey is so slow, that the minutes to the meeting place stretch out to three times their usual length. By the time the convoy reaches the main road it is after midday, and the bus already waiting. The last to board is Karen, maker of the morning’s tea. She gives Rudd a fierce hug, thanking him for all he has done. As she disappears behind the others to find a seat the bus lurches back up on to the tarmac, leaving Rudd and Father Norman in a fog of diesel fumes.

Their drive back to the lodge proves more hazardous than the one from it. The worst part is the final stretch up through the tea fields. Rudd inches upwards slowly, riding the ridges and gravel patches, with the red truck roaring and slipping in the steep red mud behind. At last they reach the final rise, and as Rudd crests the top he sees Jacobus’ truck gleaming in the sun.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

As the tractor’s lights drop from view, Rudd turns to Father Norman. “Thanks for your help. You’ve been brilliant. Kept me standing.”

The priest grins. His hair is untidy, his shirt mud-splattered, and his trousers rolled lopsidedly up to his knees. “Don’t mention it. Can’t remember when I last had such fun. Or so much exercise. Not sure I’ll be able to move tomorrow, but it’s been a relief to do something useful and physical.” He pauses, and looks up at the night sky. “And these skies. Doesn’t feel the right thing to say right now, but they are something I’ll never forget.”

Rudd nods, and links his fingers behind his head. He looks up and lets his eyes sink in amongst the millions of stars above them. “I’m going to miss this,” he says, pulling his elbows back as tight as he can to stretch out the tension in his shoulders.

“Of course … but you’ll come back won’t you?”

“That’s my plan. Right now I just need a break. Although right, right now I need to go and sort out transport for the rest of the guests. The tractor driver told me that some vehicles had reached the village below the tea factory. He didn’t know where from, but they got there.”

“Sounds promising,” says Father Norman. “We should probably get back then.”

“Ja. And I’d like to catch the doctors. Saw their helicopter come in as we were heading up here.” The pair follow the others down over the wet slip of the road, churned up by tractor tracks.

Marybelle and the doctors are in the kitchen. The doctors are chatting, while she cooks by candlelight. The news is not good. The worst is that a school has been flattened, with at least ten children and two teachers missing, presumed dead. In another village a river has swept away two families. Dr Hove says he is certain the numbers lost will have doubled by the morning.

The only good news the doctors have, is that they came across Tim and Jacobus who were both well, and asked them to pass on the news that Tonderai’s family were safe.

“I’m so thankful to hear that,” says Marybelle, her tired face shining briefly as she grates cheese for the evening’s pasta.

“Hallelujah,” says Father Norman.

“Amen to that,” says Dr Hove.

“Do you know when they’ll be back?” Rudd asks.

“Tomorrow. First they’ll hand out the medicines we left them, then they’ll walk back. It’s not too far,” says Dr Jabu Ndlovu.

Marybelle puts down her grater, and raps on the large saucepan beside her with a ladle. “Right everyone, supper is ready to be served. Rudd could you wash that dirt off your hands and pass me some plates from the cupboard there?”

“Sure,” says Rudd, taking over from Father Norman at the sink. He lathers his hands under the tap, wondering as he does so at Marybelle’s stamina. He collects the plates and takes them across to her.

“Thank you,” she says to him. “Let’s get these ready, and through to Fred and Bernard on the verandah. They’ll want to hear the news, and the others can come and help themselves.”

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

Rudd and Father Norman find the car park heroes in the kitchen getting supplies together for their walk to Mutare.

 “Morning all. A big thank you to whoever did that clearing in the car park.” Rudd’s voice quietens the room.

“May I also pass on my own thanks, and tell you that the mission truck has started.” The pulpit tone of Father Norman reduces the noise even more, allowing replies to jostle towards them.

“Good news.”

“Cheers.”

“No worries.”

Hansie comes over to them. “Glad to hear your wheels are working Father,” he says, then turns to Rudd. “How long do you think it will take to get from here to Mutare on foot?”

“Depends. Not sure what’s out there, but two days at least I reckon. Best plan is to stick to the roads, and I’ll try to arrange for our Mutare transport guys to pick you up.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ve got a solar charger for my mobile if you need to call. We’ll head off ASAP.”

A shoulder knocks past Rudd. “Thanks for nothing, hey Rudd. Ruan, can you carry this for me?”

Rudd, his response swallowed, watches silently as Aneke’s back disappears into the thick of walkers heading outside behind Hansie. He and Father Norman follow them out, past the red truck, and on to where the security gate lies meshed beneath boulders. Bright t-shirts and laughter clamber around the blockage and disappear into the distance, with Aneke and Ruan bringing up the rear.

Once they are all out of sight, Rudd and Father Norman return to the lodge, and are making their way back to the verandah when they hear the rumble of a heavy vehicle approaching. From the entrance they see an old tractor manoeuvring slowly down through the trees. The driver is elderly, and there is a teenager sitting on one of the wheel arches. When the tractor reaches the mangle of boulders and wire by the gate, it is forced to stop, and turns around slowly, a grader blade swinging behind it.

“Good morning,” Rudd shouts, striding across to greet the driver, who waves cheerfully, his teeth gappy beneath a frayed sunhat.

Within minutes the clearing work begins. Rudd, Father Norman and the driver’s assistant work on foot alongside the tractor, with others joining them now and then. They work for hours, so many that the whole day is turned into a disjointed tangle of clearing and shifting, with occasional breaks for the food and drink being prepared for them in the kitchen. Rudd abandons the task only once, and that is to message through to Mutare about getting a bus out to the walkers.

By the end of the afternoon both the lodge’s truck, and the mission truck are parked up at the top of the hill, and the car park itself is cleared of all major obstacles, the last being the small tree that was on top of Fred and Bernard’s car.

It is dark by the time the driver and his grandson leave. As the tractor descends the hill, Rudd and the exhausted work party stand at the top wrapped in stars, watching as the headlights sway back down to the tea factory.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023