Refined By His Fire

Refined By His Fire

  Cathy Conradie

  Copyright © 2011 by Cathy Conradie

  Zechariah 13:9 ‒ And I will bring the third part through the fire, and will refine them as silver is refined, and will try them as gold is tried: they shall call on My Name, and I will hear them: I will say, It is my people: and they shall say, The Lord is my God

  This book is dedicated to my Savior, Jesus Christ, Who died for my sins on the cross and has set me free and Who has blessed me with an urge to share the Truth with others. I would also like to dedicate this book to my husband who has encouraged me to finish writing this novel, thanking him for all his support. Lastly, but not least it is also dedicated to every single member and civilian of the South African Police Service and all our fallen colleagues that we will never forget.

  Cathy Conradie

  Pretoria

  2011-07-15

  Important legal notice

  This is a fictional novel with fictional characters. Some events were real events based on stories shared with the author, but no conclusion must be made to the characters and the events in this novel. Any reference to any actual person, place, or event is coincidental and the author is not responsible and will not be held responsible for any conclusion made by any reader by any means or terms.

  Table of Contents

  • Chapter One

  • Chapter Two

  • Chapter Three

  • Chapter Four

  • Chapter Five

  • Chapter Six

  • Chapter Seven

  • Chapter Eight

  • Chapter Nine

  • Chapter Ten

  • Chapter Eleven

  • Chapter Twelve

  • Chapter Thirteen

  • Chapter Fourteen

  • Chapter Fifteen

  • Chapter Sixteen

  • Chapter Seventeen

  • Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter One

  Two big blue eyes wearily open, a broken small figure moves very reluctantly. He hurts all over. Carefully he gets up, looks at himself in the mirror. That monster really got to him this time, the blue marks are all over his handsome face, his cheek is swollen and a small stripe of blood runs from the corner of his mouth. This is it. He had enough. If he doesn’t leave now, he will not survive. He carefully makes his way to the bathroom and rinses off his face. Down the passage he can hear Roy’s snoring, probably drank himself into a frenzy again as usual. The youngster makes his way to his bedroom and grabs one essential thing: a thin small Police Bible that he received as a gift some eight years ago. He puts it in his pocket and hastily climbs through the window before sprinting off into the night, not looking back once at the house of terror he had to live in. Fortunately, he was extremely fit as he partakes in athletics, swimming, cricket and rugby at school. He is not sure at all where he was to shelter, let alone what he was going to eat. Not that it really mattered. There was barely anything in the house anyway, and it was more booze than anything. He stares at the cricket grounds of the school he attends, tries to catch his breath. His eyes catch the cricket pitch covers. That will have to do for the night for shelter and to hide under. He didn’t want anyone to discover that he is here.

  At about 06:40 the next morning, the new Biology teacher stops at the parking area close to the sports grounds. He yawns and stretches. It may have been a drastic move from Pretoria to move to Cape Town last year, but he was not regretting a single second of it and his first year at Bishops was very pleasant. After playing for the respectable Northern Transvaal cricket side for two seasons, he made his debut for Western Province last year and that has swiftly moved his cricketing career. Mostly a bowler and a very keen fielder in the slips with arguably the safest hands in the slips, the coach at Province is doing a great deal in shaping up his batting. He loves coming early. It gives him the chance to be well prepared for his pupils. Damn, he loves kids and he still feels that his job is very rewarding. He gazes over the pitch and smells the fresh Cape air. He shivers and rubs his fore arms. Have to get his jacket out. The early spring is definitely cooler than up there in Pretoria.

  What on earth . . .

  His eyes catch something unusual under the cricket pitch covers and he hesitantly steps closer. Rumor has it that the street kids in Cape Town are tougher and more violent than those kids in Pretoria and he is definitely not in the mood for a violent confrontation so early in the morning. He carefully and hesitantly pulls back the covers and recoils in shock and surprise.

  “Adrian?”

  The youngster gets the fright of his life and instantly aims to run.

  “Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay. It’s only I. What on earth are you doing here?”

  In his mind he knows this is a dumb question and why this kid was here. Adrian is one of his star pupils. Bright, intelligent kid, eager to learn and equally eager to please, both in school work and on the sports field. But since Ryan started teaching at Bishops last year, he noticed the unsettling cycle. Adrian was also a terribly shy kid and constantly frightened. Rightfully so, gave the circumstances at home.

  “I ran away.”

  Straight. Simple.

  “Look at you! You don’t have anything to keep you warm. How long have you been here?”

  “Just last night.”

  “Come, let’s go the classroom. Get you a nice warm cup of coffee. I’ll organize something from the boarding house. You probably haven’t eaten anything for some time.”

  They walk to Ryan’s classroom and he closes the door behind them, noticing the suspicion in Adrian’s eyes.

  “You are probably going to call the cops, aren’t you, sir?”

  Ryan sighs.

  “I have to, kiddo. You are a mess. I’ve seen this happening for long now and every time you tell me that it was some sort of accident or something. I’m sorry, but I don’t buy that any more.”

  “Well, that’s great. You might as well put me in an orphanage then.”

  “I’ll never let them do that.”

  Ryan drapes a blanket around Adrian’s shoulders and hands him a mug of steaming coffee. He picks up the phone, informing the principal’s office that all his classes need to be cancelled, then calls the SAP and finally, the kitchen at one of the boarding houses to organize Adrian breakfast.

  “You should not have called the cops. That bastard will track me down and kill me.”

  “Well, he surely almost succeeded last night. Anyway, they will get him. You will be safe.”

  “He is also a cop.”

  Ryan looks shocked.

  “What? Are you sure?”

  “Well, that’s what he says. But I don’t know. He is always at home and he is so unkempt and filthy. I doubt that the Police will employ someone like that. Maybe he works undercover for SANAB or something.”

  “Do you know his names, a birth date, anything?”

  “He is not my dad. I’m not interested in his affairs. I only know where he lives and the registration number of his car.”

  “Forgive me for asking, but why do you say he is not your dad?”

  Adrian rolls his eyes.

  “Okay, where must I start? We don’t have the same surnames, and there is no resemblance between us. I don’t even look like the woman that pretends to be my mother. And then, there is the domestic violence factor. Giving your child a hiding if he has done wrong is one thing; abuse is another. Besides, I remember very vaguely that I had two brothers. I haven’t seen them in years.”

  A knock sounds on the door and Ryan notices Adrian is bewildered and scared.

  “It’s okay. I won’t let any strange people in here, okay?”

  Ryan walks to the door and opens it.

  �
�Hello, sir. Warrant Officer Van Vuuren from the Child Protection Unit in Cape Town. You spoke to me half an hour ago?”

  Ryan takes the policeman’s appointment certificate, looks at it very carefully before letting him inside.

  “Thanks for coming. I really appreciate it.”

  The Warrant Officer steps closer to Adrian.

  “Hey, kiddo. I am Warrant Officer Van Vuuren from CPU here in Cape Town. Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, I guess. I just . . . I didn’t want you to come here.”

  “I have to. That’s law. It’s my work.”

  “So you can send me to an orphanage.”

  “I won’t do that. We’ll put you in a suitable shelter until we can get someone to adopt you.”

  “Yeah well, that’s the same thing.”

  “So, what’s your name?”

  “Adrian.”

  “Adrian, you surely can’t sleep under the cricket pitch covers every night. And I am very certain that you don’t want to go back home to your parents.”

  “Let’s get that straight. They are not my parents, right?”

  “Okay. Do you know their names?”

  “No. But we don’t have the same surnames that I know. I only know what car he drives and what the registration number is.”

  The policeman’s face lightens up.

  “You do? So that can help me to verify his details and possible other offences. What’s the address at that place?”

  “12 Tableview Road, Plumstead.”

  “And the registration number of the car?”

  “CA 728628.”

  “Okay, that’s great. It gives me something to work with. Do you think they will be at home?”

  “They are always there. He never works. Constantly drunk and sleeping for most of the time.”

  Adrian pulls the blanket closer over his shoulders.

  “What’s going to happen now?”

  “I’ll organize for you to go to a suitable shelter where you will be safe and taken care of.”

  “And my school? How do I get here?”

  “May I interrupt?”

  The policeman looks at Ryan.

  “Yeah, sure. No problem.”

  “Can you allow for him to come and stay with me until we got a more suitable place for him to stay? I would love to have him over and take care of him.”

  “I can do that, but I will have to send the social worker of the SAP to come and see if he is okay and taken care of. And I also think it depends on Adrian if he wants to stay with you for a while.”

  “I would love to. I don’t trust anyone else at this stage except my teacher. And I really don’t want to go to a shelter. There  . . . there is something else . . .”

  The policeman frowns.

  “What is it, kiddo?”

  “I have found this in my Bible this morning. Can you trace a policeman on a photograph?”

  Warrant Officer Van Vuuren takes the photograph from Adrian and frowns in thought. He turns the photo around and looks at the date that dated fifteen years earlier. He stares at the photo again, the man looking very familiar and the name tag a bit unclear. He is sure he has seen him somewhere.

  “Is it okay if I keep the photograph for a day?”

  “Yeah . . .”

  Adrian looks very uncertain.

  “Please don’t lose it. It was in my Bible, probably part of the gift I got years ago.”

  “Can you remember who gave you this Bible?”

  “My dad.”

  “Okay. Can you remember when was that?”

  “I was six. So, it was about . . . eight years ago. He was on his way to the border.”

  “Can you remember where he was supposed to go?”

  “Yeah, I think it was called Pinkstershoek or something.”

  “Can you remember what time of the year it was? Was it in the summer or winter perhaps?”

  “It was in the summer. Maybe at the end of February, beginning March. He went away just after my birthday and he was away for three months.”

  “What else do you remember? Where did you stay then?”

  “Johannesburg. Roodepoort.”

  “Did you go with him to his work place?”

  “Yes, often in the school holidays.”

  “Can you remember what his rank was?”

  “No. I remember though that I had two brothers. I haven’t seen them in years. And then, I don’t . . . I probably should share this . . .”

  “What is it, kiddo?”

  “No, no. It’s fine . . . I think it’s just my imagination. I have been caught up in this bad dream . . .”

  “Adrian, listen to me. Any information you can give me, will help me. It doesn’t matter if it is insignificant.”

  “Well, I am scared that what I think I know is not true and that you will lock me up for perjury.”

  “Please tell me. I’m listening.”

  Adrian sighs.

  “Well, like I said, I remember that I grew up in Johannesburg before coming here. I was in my first year of school, about six years old. My dad did tell me never to talk to strangers or to get in a car that I didn’t know, but one day, I was waiting for my dad to pick me up at school. There came a man in uniform driving a yellow Police van, and he told me that my dad asked him to pick me up at school. I trusted him because my dad was a policeman and he told me I can trust the blue uniform. The guy gave me a chocolate, told me my dad sent it with. I didn’t think it was strange, because my dad’s colleagues spoilt me rottenly. Well, that’s the last thing I remember of Johannesburg. I was in Cape Town with these people. And yeah well, it has been hell. He started hitting me around when I was ten years old, but only since last year, he started hitting me with his fists, kicking me and hitting me with blunt objects. Last night, he used a baton.”

  “And the woman? Did she abuse you too?”

  “No. She is useless. Made food every now and then, but she never cleaned the house or stuff like that.”

  “Did he ever molest or try to rape you?”

  “No. Never.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s a relief to hear. I need to go. We need to get this bastard behind bars. If I get my way, he will sit for a very long time.”

  Having taken the day off and a couple of days leave. Ryan and Adrian arrive at Ryan’s flat. He smiles reassuringly at Adrian.

  “Well, not exactly a mansion, but hopefully you will feel safe here.”

  They step inside the bachelor flat and Adrian shyly looks around while Ryan locks the security gate.

  “Is there anything in particular you would like to do?”

  “Well, actually . . . I would like to take a shower or something and sleep. I am so tired.”

  “I think sleeping might be exactly what you need right now. There is something I want you to do for me that is to relax and to know that you are safe. And you are welcome to watch TV, video’s or play TV games. I have some cool movies and TV games I think you will like very much. Until everything is sorted out, this will be your home. When you have rested out and feel up to it, we can go shopping.”

  Adrian shoots him a double take and Ryan laughs.

  “Well, you can’t wear my clothes all the time. They are hopelessly too big for you.”

  “It’s just . . . I can’t expect you do spend money on me.”

  “Nonsense. You deserve it. Well, the bathroom is through there if you want to take a shower. There are clean towels and nice deodorant if you want to use some, I really don’t mind.”

  “Thanks, sir.”

  Adrian suddenly feels and looks overwhelmed.

  “I really appreciate everything.”

  “You’re welcome, kiddo.”

  Only at about three ‘o clock did he stir for the first time. He opens his eyes, searches where he was and realizes with a relief that he is safe. He stretches, yawns and turns his head toward the pleasant smell of coffee coming from
the mug that was next to him on the bedside table.

  “Welcome back, buddy. You slept like a rock. Feeling better?”

  “It feels like I can still sleep for ages.”

  “Well, then you can go to bed early tonight. Perhaps sleep is exactly what your body needs right now. Let me just get some ice for that bruising on your cheekbone. We have to get the swelling down.”

  Adrian takes up the mug and takes a careful sip of the hot brew. It was strong, black and sweet and it made him feel better already. His stomach rumbles softly and he realizes how hungry he was. Ryan sits down next to him and gently places the ice wrapped in a cloth against Adrian’s cheek. He is not surprised when Adrian resists in fear and pain.

  “It’s okay, buddy. It’s okay. You are safe now. I will never hurt you, okay? I promise. Just trust me. I’m going to take care of you. It’s all right.”

  “It really hurts . . .”

  “I know. I can see that. The Police wants me to take you to the doctor. He needs to complete some forms they gave to me this afternoon while you were sleeping. There is great news too. They locked him up. Found some other very disturbing pornography video’s and photo’s of children and teenagers. You were very lucky.”

  Ryan removes the ice after a while.

  “I just . . . wish they can trace my real parents. I don’t want to go to an orphanage or shelter.”

  “I’m sure they will do everything they can. I know everything will be all right.”

  Later that night at about half past nine, Ryan received the phone call from Warrant Officer Van Vuuren who furiously worked on Adrian’s case since that morning. He has located Adrian’s father who was the station commander of the Grabouw police station. Both of them were unaware of the joyous surprise that awaited them that will change their lives forever . . .

  Adrian reacted exactly the way Ryan imagined, but there was also a huge factor of uncertainty in the youngster who could barely contain himself as they made their way to Grabouw the next morning.

  “I can’t believe this is happening. It feels so unreal! I am scared though. I don’t know what to expect.”

  “Your memories were correct. That cop went through a lot of information. Your kidnaping made headlines for a very long time. It destroyed your father and he took up the station commander’s post at Grabouw to make a fresh start. I don’t think he has forgotten you though.”

  They enter the town and Ryan parks at the police station.

  “Do you want me to come with you or must I wait in the charge office?”

  “I think it’s better if I do this alone . . .”

  “No problem.”

  They enter the charge office and Adrian walks to the counter. A colored male in his early thirties steps closer.

  “Hey, buddy. What’s up?”

  Adrian looks at the policeman’s name tag, anxiously fidgeting with his hands before sticking them into his pockets.

  “I um . . . I want to see the station commander, please.”

  Warrant Officer October frowns.

  “Well, no problem, but Captain Parker is a very busy man. Is it for a school project?”

  “No, no . . . actually, it’s personal . . .”

  “Okay . . . just wait here a second.”

  The policeman disappears and after a minute or two comes back.

  “Just go through that door. Wait for me there, I’ll walk with you.”

  Adrian passes through the door and they walk down the corridor. The policeman knocks on the station commander’s door. Henry Parker does not look up and carries on with his work.

  “Captain. The youngster is here to see you.”

  “You may enter, kid.”

  Adrian hesitantly steps inside, stares at the Captain in front of him. Being forty-three and given everything he had to witness and to deal within his 25-year long career, the Captain still looked strong and fit, but the once blonde hair made way for grey hair and years of pain and worry were edged on his face. He turns the crime scene photo’s upside down, looks over his glasses and sighs.

  “With what can I help you, boy?”

  “I . . . I’m sorry. I . . . I’m wasting your time . . .”

  “Look, do you need something for a school project or want the Police to visit your school for a demonstration, because for that, I can give you contact numbers. I am terribly busy and am struggling with an important case here.”

  “Well, actually, I’m looking for someone. They said that this policeman is working here.”

  Adrian hesitantly hands over the photograph to Henry. Henry turns pale.

  “Where . . .”

  He clears his throat.

  “Where did you get this? This is an official photograph that was taken of me fifteen years ago.”

  “It was inside this Bible.”

  Henry takes the Bible and opens it. He swallows hard at the lump in his throat when he sees his own handwriting in the front with the message he wrote to Adrian before leaving for Pinkstershoek eight years ago. He takes off his glasses and rubs over his eyes, wiping the threatening tears away.

  “Where did you get these?”

  “From my dad, eight years ago before he left for Pinkstershoek.”

  Henry stares in disbelief at the teenager and the reality starts sinking in.

  “Adrian?”

  “That’s my name . . .”

  “Adrian?”

  Henry gets up, approaches his long lost son.

  “Is it really, really you?”

  The tears flow freely from the apparent hard policeman’s eyes. He knows it. He knows that the boy in front of him is his son, his blood . . .

  He grabs Adrian up, embraces him tightly.

  “If only you know . . . if only you know how long I have cried over you, cried for you, cried for your safety, prayed you’ll be okay . . .”

  After crying unashamedly for a while, he dries his tears and holds Adrian at an arm length.

  “Who has done this to you?”

  “That other guy. My teacher says the Police arrested him yesterday, for this and for child pornography too.”

  Henry’s blood runs cold.

  “Please tell me he never took you in that manner.”

  “He only assaulted me. Never sexually.”

  “Don’t worry. Your mom is a qualified nurse. She will patch you up and heal you very quickly. Where is your teacher?”

  “He is waiting in the charge office. Dad . . .”

  A fresh tear slips from Henry’s eyes.

  “Do you know how long I have waited to hear you say that? I missed you so much!”

  He embraces Adrian again, this time more carefully.

  “What is it, my son?”

  “Dad . . . I just wanted to say . . . I love you so much.”

  Henry kisses him on the forehead.

  “I love you too. More than you will ever know. And I am so glad to have you back. Now, please introduce me to your teacher. I really need him to know what happy man I am today.”

  Just after five, somewhat irritated, Chrissie Parker parks her vehicle inside the garage. She panicked somewhat because Henry phoned her and told she that there was some big crisis of some sort that she needed to come and sort out immediately. Damn it. He knows that she is a busy nurse and that she works until seven. She steps inside the house, hangs up the car keys on the key holder.

  “Henry?”

  Henry emerges from the lounge and looks innocently at her. He notices that she is tired, but he also notices the fire in her eyes, that fiery spirit he loved so much about her, the Afrikaner spirit. She was a beautiful woman with a beautiful loving personality, but also very spirited if you get on her wrong side.

  “What kind of crisis did you talk about? I don’t see anything going on here.”

  Henry kisses her, smiles mischievously.

  “I love you too.”

  “Henry, what’s going on? I sincerely hope you didn’t
bump your car.”

  “No, it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

  “Oh good gracious, take a deep breath, Christina. Let me rather pour myself a glass of wine because you are in one of your moods.”

  “No, no. Wait. Hold on. I want you to meet someone special.”

  Chrissie frowns.

  “Listen, I really hope you didn’t buy another horse. You already have three horses and no-one rides them anymore.”

  Henry takes her by the shoulders and leads her gently to the guest lounge.

  “Look who is back.”

  Chrissie stares. The tears whelm up in her eyes and her body shakes with audible sobs.

  “I don’t believe this . . . this can’t be true . . . I’m dreaming!”

  “You’re not, my angel.”

  Henry kisses her softly.

  Chrissie runs to Adrian, hugs him close and kisses him all over his face. Her tears flow freely.

  “My child! My darling child! I missed you so, so much! Do you know how long I have prayed for this day?”

  She cries unashamedly, holds her son close.

  “I missed you so much! Look at you, you are all grown up!”

  Chrissie kisses him again, gently laying her hands on his cheeks.

  “You’re safe now. I’ll make you all better. And—”

  She looks him up and down.

  “I’ll make plan to get more body on that frame of yours. It looks like you’ve never eaten where you came from.”

  “No, not really.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ll fix that in no time.”