THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT The flapping of a butterfly's wings in China today may cause a tornado in Kansas tomorrow. - Edward Lorenz He is scared. As scared as he never was before in his life. He doesn’t know exactly what happened, but the one minute he was driving in his Mercedes XL 450 and the next moment he was running as fast as he could in the middle of the road. A long country road that he had never seen before. A black road. And the strange thing was that huge flames were burning intensely on both sides of the road, making the road almost unbearable hot. He was boxed into a tunnel of fire. He can’t remember what happened to him or to his Mercedes. He is running on the road and the fields on both sides of the road is burning with the most intense flames he had ever seen in his life. The heat was touching his skin all over. He quickly got rid of his Armani jacket and threw it down on the black tar of the road as he keeps on running hoping to see the end of the flames so that he can get out of the searing heat. What the hell happened, how did he get here? And where is here? One minute he was driving his air conditioned Mercedes and the next he was running and his mind telling him that a long time has past between the driving and now. But for the love of god, he couldn’t remember what happened in between. …and the heat, the damn heat that was clinging to him like an irritant. Sweat is dripping from him like drops of rain in a thunder storm. He must keep on running. The field is burning on both sides and it seems as if the heat is getting closer. He must keep on running. The thing is that the running makes his body even hotter, but that is the only way to get away from the flames. It is a catch twenty two situation. If he should stop running the flames will definitely burn him. He don’t know how he knows it, he just does. As a town councillor in the new South Africa, he had to make very important decisions right from the beginning. Most of these decisions were to see how much money he could keep for himself and how much he had to use on the project it was aimed at. Right from the start he took most of the money for himself. Didn’t he and his brother start a construction company when the new democratic government took over? The two of them knew nothing about the construction business, but they knew that soon lucrative building contracts would come out. They also knew that black companies would be given first priority. They also knew that they had a first cousin on the bid committee for all building projects. So they were sure that they would get building contracts. And they got it. They were paid before any work was done and all of the money immediately went to their private accounts. They used about a third of the total amount to buy the actual material for the houses. They used the cheapest possible material and they watered the cement down to almost nothing. The builders warned them that the cement was too weak, but quickly learned to keep their mouths shut when some of them were fire on the spot. Most people who moved into the new houses soon had to move back to their old wood-and-iron shacks again, because it was safer there than in the houses that could tumble down on them at any moment. And when the winter storms started the rows and rows of box like houses were soon just piles of cement blocks and roof rafters as it came tumbling down. That winter was the coldest ever and the people, without electricity, had to make fires to keep warm. Fire inside the wooden shack combined with drunkenness lead to enormous fires where thousands of shacks where burned down. Sometimes children and babies burned to death in those shacks. But he had to make a living. He couldn’t help if people were too drunk to look after their own children. As long as he could fix the votes and see that he stays in office he had nothing to worry about. Every man is just responsible for himself. And now at the end of the road he also sees the end of the fire. Where is this road? He was never here before but, in a strange way it looks familiar. In a strange way it looks as if he was actually here before, like in a dream or a fantasy. It looks like a road he had visited many times in his dreams. The fire is behind him now as he reaches the end of the searing black road. He looks down on a valley and sees a town. Actually a town he had never seen before, but still a town. A place where he will find a telephone and other people who can explain to him what is happening and where his car is. He suddenly hears strange noises now. It seems to be coming from above him. It is actually ordinary noises– a car stopping, a car door opening and people getting out – but it sounds strange there where is now on this strange, hot road. “Wow! What happened here…?”a voice says strangely from somewhere above him. He looks up, but sees only the red sky. Then he hears the hissing sound of a fire extinguisher. He can’t understand it, but he rushes down the footpath, that leads from the black road to the town below. He must reach people. He must contact his office. Then the strangest thing happens. The whole town suddenly bursts into flames. It is so strange because it is not a part of the town, but the whole town that suddenly burst into enormous orange and red flames, burning with ferocity that he had only seen when the squatter camps burned down. “God, bring the pipes…quick, the wind made it gush up again…,” he hears the voices above and the sound of people rushing about. He still can’t see where the voices are coming from, though. What the hell is going on here? Even from where he is looking down on the sea of flames he feels the heat. And then the flames explode up again behind him. He sees how the flames move towards him. Even the flames from the town are directed towards him now. The flames seem to be alive…and out to get him. He doesn’t want to get trapped between flames again and he starts to run to the left side that looks safer. As he runs he sees how the flames from the town seem to have a life of its own. It rushes up the little incline as if has the sole intention of reaching him. The flames from the town and the flames from the fields had combined into one stream now and it is close behind him, using every little dry grass and bush to enhance itself further. Just like he enriched himself through any little thing that he could think of. In the squatter camps he and his brothers owned all the shops. As a councillor he had enormous power and could do anything he wanted. He could make use of gangsters as well as the police to reach any goal that he had. They got rid of competition for him by any means necessary. At his shops he would charged enormous prices for even the simplest item. If people wanted to go to town where everything was cheaper he and his brother were there again, because they controlled all the taxis in and out of the township. He was playing a game that he couldn’t lose, because he and his comrades made all the rules. Rules that benefitted only them. His body is awash in sweat from all the running and also from pure fear. Forgotten memories starts flooding back into his mind. He remembers now…the accident with the big truck. What…yes, it was a tanker of some sort. He didn’t use his safety belt, and he can remember flying right through the windscreen. But for the love of god what happened after that he can’t remember. Then he hears the voice above him with the flames comer nearer. “Wow, he is badly burned.” “Will it be possible to identify him?” “No…he’s not dead, he is still alive. Bring the burn dressing and a drip, quick…” Totally out of breath and with a burning hot body he reaches a cliff. Realization starts dawning on him… He must still be on the scene of the accident. These voices he is hearing are the medics trying to safe him…but why can’t he see them and how can he be running at the same time. Maybe it is just happening in his mind. Maybe this is what people call a near death experience. But he is determined to live. He will survive this. There is still too much money to be made… He looks down as a cool wind blows over his heated body. Not too far below he sees the ocean. Cool, fresh blue-green waters. These waters will safe him from the heat behind him. He will survive this and he will live. The flames are now very near him and it seems to have a life of its own. It jumps toward him with a loud roar like an animal that is very angry. But he is safe. As always, whether in life or death, there is always a way out. He jumps down the cliff, knowing that the cold waters will both break his fall and safe him from the searing flames. He jumps. “God! What happened, why did he do that? I nearly had him.” He hears the voice above him. As he looks down he sees that the cool waters are in actual fact searing hot flames. He had jumped into the flames. Its reflection from the top made it look blue green like water, but now on his inescapable route down, he sees the orange red burning hot flames. And he sees millions of tortured faces looking up at him from the searing flames. Their arms stretch out towards him… “Welcome, brother,” they chorus as he sinks away into the fiery mass. Nothing he can do can save him now, the only way is down… |
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