Free Shooting Butterflies by T.M. Clark

can go say our own goodbye.’ Gabe looked at Tara intently. ‘I don’t know what happened that day. You have been really quiet with the details, and I haven’t pushed you to tell me anything. But you can, when the time is right. I know the police tracked the shooter to where he climbed into a bakkie , and tracked the spoor of the bakkie all the way to the tar road. Then they lost it.’
    â€˜Gabe, can I trust you?’
    â€˜You know you can. Spill …’
    â€˜It’s so hard … I don’t know who killed them, but if I tell about it all, someone who might know, they may die too. I’m not a killer, Gabe, and neither is he. He saved me, he opened the gate. So I made a promise not to tell.’
    â€˜You know that could mean your father and uncle’s murderer will always be out there?’
    She nodded. ‘They will get justice when I’m older. Dad always said that justice comes in many different ways, and at many different times.’
    â€˜Oh Tara, how is that you’re only twelve and yet you understand so much in that head of yours?’
    â€˜Maybe because I’ve got smarts!’ She laughed at her cousin and knew that he’d never tell her secret. It was safe.
    â€˜So much has changed so fast, Gabe,’ she whispered. ‘It’s all happening too fast.’
    â€˜Changes aren’t all bad.’
    â€˜So far they are. Mum selling the farm, us moving into the city, and then us moving countries so fast. Going to South Africa will be horrid.’
    â€˜Hey, South Africa isn’t that bad. I’m twenty, and until I started university there two years ago, I had never even been out of Zimbabwe! Treat it as an adventure. Something new. Something different. I felt like that when I started at university. It was so big, so different.’
    â€˜That doesn’t count. You come home for holidays, and then we see you. Your university is in Stellenbosch and my mum’s family is in Durban. When will we ever see you? I don’t want to go live anywhere else, I want to live here, Gabe. I just want to stay here.’
    â€˜I know, but your mum can’t manage this farm alone. That’s why she sold it.’
    â€˜She chose not to manage it. She did most of the work when Dad was working in the city every day, and when he was in the army. I don’t understand why she suddenly can’t do it anymore.’
    â€˜I don’t know. Sometimes adults do these weird things.’
    â€˜She sold everything without even talking to me and Dela. She never even asked if I wanted to keep anything from here. I have nothing, Gabe. Nothing that belonged to Dad or to Uncle Jacob. She took it all and sold it. My dad wasn’t dead for two weeks and she’d sold everything. She couldn’t wait to wash her hands of Whispering Winds. To get rid of every memory of Dad.’
    Gabe gently placed his hand on the back of her head. ‘There are so many things here that I want to take home too, but they don’t belong to your family anymore. They are Potgieter’s now.’
    â€˜My horse – she sold my Elliana and Dad’s Apache without even seeing if we could keep them in the city somewhere, like at the showgrounds, or on someone else’s place. Or take them to SouthAfrica with us. What am I supposed to do in South Africa, Gabe? I can’t even speak Afrikaans!’
    â€˜There are people there who speak English too. I don’t know her reasons for not asking you about what you wanted. I think this weekend is her way of saying sorry, that she was wrong. At least she let you come out here with me. It’s our weekend to say goodbye to your dad and Uncle Jacob, to the farm and the horses, and also to each other, because I don’t know when next I’ll see you in South Africa. I promise that we can stay in touch by letters and by phone.’
    â€˜Promise me you’ll never turn weird like my mum,