Day 212: Jonas, my Jonas

Jonas had driven past me earlier that day in his work vehicle. He noticed me and wondered about this wanderer as he continued on his way. I did not see him – his was just one of many farm vehicles on the road. While he worked, I walked.

This stretch of the R511, as it exits Brits, is interesting because of the distant mountains on one side and the Kleinfontein farmlands all around. A few cars stop and offer lifts, I take one or two rides and decline when I do not feel like becoming a passenger.

Late in the day a vehicle pulls over. ‘Hey are you OK? I saw you this morning, and you are still walking? Where are you going? What are you doing? Would you like a lift? I am not going very far, but it will still help. Oh, and my name is Jonas.’

This is how I learn that he drove past me earlier. He’s just popping out to the little shop next to the local petrol station – he left a pot of water boiling back home when he realised he had nothing to put in it. And he cannot believe that I am still walking, but is happy because now he can help me.

When we arrive he asks me to wait in the car. I watch people come and go until I am roused from my meditative state by the beeping of a cellphone. Jonas left it behind in the car. With me. A total stranger. He has also left his keys in the ignition. A smile spreads on my face. Trust.

He returns without purchases. ‘Did you not find anything for your pot, Jonas?’

He shakes his head. Left. Right. Up. Down. Today is a blessed day for him because of our meeting, he explains. Inside the shop his heart told him that there was no food for him this day. He can not accommodate me himself, because he lives on his own, but he will take me to Beestekraal Stasie which is a better place to find a lift.

He starts the engine and we roll in the direction of the petrol pumps, where he exchanges his money for the fuel that is needed to get me further along my way.

In my mind’s eye the pot is boiling dry while Jonas ventures further and further from his home. And what is he going to eat tonight? But he is having none of my protestations. For Jonas, God has spoken. He turns to me, ‘I see what you are doing.’

The picture in my mind was clear and I could see: Jonas was inside the whale. And not unlike those mirror-in-a-mirror images, Jonas was my whale that day.