I had heard about a movie called “Message in a bottle” so when I saw this bottle with its lid still jammed in its neck, wedged under a rock washed by the waves, I thought, ‘that’s cool, my own message, waiting for me to discover it!’
Pixabay
With difficulty I crawled right down and dug it out and to my amazement there seemed to be something in it under its damaged, roughened exterior. I took it back to the B ’n B my aunt and I were staying in. She suggested I wrap it in paper and a towel and carefully break it. In the shards of glass we found a peculiar, small scroll tied with a fuzzy string.
It was written by a boy, Billy Johnson aged 14, a year younger than what I was at this minute.
The astounding thing was that it was dated 30 years prior to today’s date!
’30 years…….. wow Sarah that’s a lifetime!’ I gasped. She smiled indulgently.
The note said…….
“We are going on this ship to Durban where the best surfing waves are. Best in the world my dad says. I’m so sad cos I had to leave Fluffball and my gran but excited too becos my dad is getting a job in the harbour. A good job. He hasn’t had work for a long time. My uncle is waiting for us. Come and find me if you get this. I am called Billy but look for William R Johnson.”
‘Trev, he feels like you felt when we decided to come and live here in Durban,’ said my aunt. And he seems to be a crazy mad surfer like you!’
‘Like I feel too,’ she added. ‘A new place and so many possibilities ………. But which is the right door to go through?’ she added wistfully.
We hugged and for a horribly sad minute we remembered the awful circumstances leading up to our presence here in Durban, South Africa.
There had been 5 of us in the car with my dad driving. There was a horrific collision and Sarah, my mother’s sister and I were the only survivors. Overnight she had been granted custody of me. Together we had decided on a new beginning in a new country and here we were in Durban trying to decide on our future. It was a daunting task but somehow we just knew it was the right place to be. At least the sun shone every day.
‘Come on now Trev, let’s be positive and see if we can phone this number and find Billy boy William R Johnson!’ We laughed and I grabbed the phone and dialled.
‘This number has been discontinued,’ said a mechanical voice. I was disappointed out of all proportion.
At supper, Myra the friendly owner of the B ‘n B took a lively interest in the note. ‘Tomorrow we’ll phone Telkom and just maybe there is a forwarding phone number. Don’t get your hopes up too high Trevor, but you never know!’
She was right and by a minor miracle and a very helpful operator we were given the present phone number for William Richard Johnson. Holding our breaths the 3 of us waited as I dialled the number and the sound of a live phone number beeped hopefully in my ear.
‘Hello, Bill Johnson speaking,’ said a deep voice. I heard dogs barking in the background.
All my rehearsed speech failed me and finally I squeaked,
‘I found your message in a bottle……. under a rock at the beach.’
For 30 seconds I thought we had been cut off. There was dead silence. Then there was a deep guffaw. He laughed so hard that I began to laugh then my aunt, Sarah and our new friend Myra laughed too. The tense laughter gave way gradually to his voice yelling to someone called Jane, ‘come and listen to this my love……………someone here called Trevor has found my message in that bottle! It has eventually been found! 30 years.....good grief!’ We heard lots of squeaks and giggles as whoever Jane was, joined in the ‘celebration’.
After my garbled version of the story in which I threw the information about my Mom and dad being dead I got all choked up and William R Johnson gently asked to speak to my aunt. I had to go and blow my nose while she told him that we had recently come to Durban to start a new life after our tragic loss.
She spoke for a while and Myra rubbed her back after she briefly told him about the accident. I could hear his deep voice burbling in the phone for some time.
Myra gave her a pen and paper and she wrote down the details of his address.
She finished off with ‘that is very kind of you William, I mean Bill. We would like that. Thank you so much.’
With the strangest look on her face she replaced the phone and turned to look at us. ‘We are invited to the Johnson’s place on Saturday for lunch. You too Myra……… please come,’ she smiled as her new friend nodded and patted her arm. ‘It seems that they cannot wait to meet a young man who loves surfing just like his sons do.’
Pixabay
So I’m looking forward like anything to go and meet Billy boy Johnson, but more to the point I can’t wait to meet his sons who are more or less my age. My question is, ‘will they take me surfing?’
Saturday is 5 days away. I can't wait to tell you more in the next installment.
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