Too Late the Phalarope

by Alan Paton

  — It’s broken.

  — Ag, that’s a pity. How did you break it?

  — It fell on the floor in the office.

  — Careless man, she said, and kissed him.

  Then she gave him one of the new rusks, and he said to her, this is the finest rusk that was made in the history of the world.

  So they laughed, for so in love can one laugh at the swartgalligheid as though it were something of no account. And they talked of this and that, and of the wonderful rugby match in Pretoria, and the girl Martha in love, and she put her hands and feet to the fire, and sat there like a child, which was a thing he loved. Then they finished the coffee, and the rusks, and he put away his pipe, and drew her down again into his arms, and they renewed their love.

  Twelve o’clock was striking from the tower of the church when they went up to their room, and he thought to himself with wonder that it was the only striking he had heard that night.

  THE NEXT morning he took his lieutenant’s cap and stick and went out towards van Onselen Street. Old Herman Geyer was at his gate, and the lieutenant called out to him before he could turn, Goeie more, Meneer Geyer, it’s a beautiful day. Then old Geyer turned and would not say a word, and the lieutenant went smiling on his way.

  When he entered the Police Station the boy stood and smiled at him with adoration, and Sergeant Fourie said to him, when shall I come for the inspection, lieutenant? And the lieutenant said to him in a great voice, any time you like, of the morning, noon, or night, so that the sergeant looked at him with astonishment and the boy with pride. For Sergeant Steyn had gone on his leave, to the beaches of Natal, where the small coloured shells lie in their thousands on the shore. When he was in his office, the captain came to him, so he stood up till the captain said, sit down, van Vlaanderen.

  Then the captain said, I’m going on leave next month.

  — Yes, sir.

  — I wanted to leave you in charge, but they think you’re too young. So they’re sending Captain Jooste from Pretoria. Are you disappointed?

  — Not very, sir.

  — Good. You’ll find Jooste a decent fellow. In any case, if they put you in charge, you couldn’t run about playing rugby.

  The captain did not smile, but suddenly his whole brow lifted, which was a queer trick of his, and was really some kind of smile.

  — We mustn’t allow duty to interfere with rugby, he said.

  Then he walked out of the office saying, about the car, they say we needn’t pay for it.

  So that day would have been complete, but that the girl went back too soon to the rule and custom. And he knew, both when he went back at lunchtime and when he returned at night, that she was already withdrawing, to some safer ground, to some world where she was safe and sure, not knowing that the world she left was safer and surer, because of that idea that she had, which was good and true and twisted, that the love of the body had a place where it stayed and had to be called from, and how it got called and what called it, God knows, I do not know. And why she should withdraw so soon from such a happiness, God knows, I do not know.

  And had he that day been offered any gift, he would have chosen neither honour nor riches, but another night with her before the fire. Ah, how great is God’s gift of love, that love which is of body and mind and soul, and why should she who had it, not understand, and why should I understand who never had it? And why should I who understand never have had it? For I would have given, without rule or custom, nor any withholding. And had he been thus given, then I say he would never have been destroyed. For have I not seen a score of times with my eyes, when men and women are denied, how they go seeking? Like a man who is robbed of a jewel, and goes seeking it amongst the dross and filth, and all men look at him with pity and contempt, not knowing of his distress. And did not Maria Duvenage, after twenty years of married life and child-bearing and going to the church, suddenly go off with a worthless scamp, who left her afraid and desolate, so that now she sells herself to any stranger in Johannesburg? They called her by evil names, but I have heard her story, when she sent for me to come to the wattle trees on Buitenverwagting; and even before, I knew her husband for a hard and loveless man, who broke her spirit and enjoyed her flesh, and drove stern and strict in the black Sunday clothes. But may God forgive me if what I write is wrong, and against His laws; for I believe His laws are made in love, and though one does not understand, one should be obedient. And it is because I am obedient that I write these words. Yet, child, I understood you, and every word you ever wrote. And I say to myself, my God, my God, what did he do to be destroyed?

  Therefore when he went to the house she was already withdrawn. And that night when they went to sleep she said her prayers and kissed him, and got into her bed. And carelessly he got into his bed too, and put out the light, and lay there alone, yet not alone, for the black mood, the swartgalligheid, came and lay with him and listened with him to the striking of the hours.

  BUT YOU must not think I judge, nor must you think I write as a child and ignorant. For I know there is a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing. And we eat and drink by rule and custom; and men like my brothers take their liquor by rule and custom, except for the time when he was sick. And to have a feast is good, and to eat and drink and be merry, but one cannot live on feasting. Therefore I cannot judge.

  Yet why did she not understand that this was a hunger of the soul, for safety, even if not for love? For I tell you that he would have foregone his fame and honour to have been safe in love; and he would have foregone the holding in respect, and been an ordinary man, if he could have been safe in love. And had he been safe in love, he would perhaps have been less courteous and grave, and held, himself less tall and straight, and would have joked a little coarse and rough, and had the faults of ordinary men. They would have said, ah, van Vlaanderen, there’s a fellow for you; they would have said, Pieter, you old (with a word they use), come and have a drink. Instead they said, yes, Pieter, or no, Pieter; or yes, lieutenant, or no, lieutenant. And some of them even said, lieutenant, allow me the honour of standing you a drink.

  Yet I cannot judge, for where is the end of judging? Shall I judge myself, that should have hammered at the door, and cried out not ceasing? Or shall I judge my brother, that was proud of the boy with the wild horse and ashamed of the girl with the wild flower? Or shall I judge the sergeant for his hate and joy? Or Coenraad Willemse, that put the girl Stephanie into the street? Or the girl herself, who was like a tigress for the child?

  And shall I judge the dark unhappy boy, who had such strange and lonely pleasures, and was brave and gentle, and was master of all things save one, and of his choice and will went seeking in the filth? And shall I judge my God, and the Lord of all compassion, who made us all, and filled us with dark strange things, that one goes lawful and obedient, and another is destroyed? Therefore I cannot judge at all, except to wish she had been otherwise.

  SO THE black mood returned, the swartgalligheid. And they quarreled again over some foolish thing. Therefore she sat in a misery, not knowing what could be done, and wishing she were back again on the farm Vergelegen, safe with her father and mother and her children, with a safer kind of love; and hurt too, deep in her soul, that this was the thanks she got for her shy and shining gift. And he flung out of the house in a misery, and walked about the town in his anger and the dark, and went again to the vacant ground and the stinking weed, and broke the law, of his own will and choice.

  AND HIS TERRIBLE KNOWLEDGE OF HIMSELF lay in him darkly and heavily, and took away his laughter, and the laughter of his wife, so that the children were the only creatures that laughed in that house. He went to his work darkly and heavily, and he came back darkly and heavily, and played with his children in the bath, because that was his habit, but his wife could hear and see that it was not the same. Yet what could she do but suffer
it?

  Japie came to him with his case of papers, and said to him, old brother did you speak to your Aunt Sophie about the girl Stephanie, because she is still after me to send the girl away?

  — No, I didn’t speak.

  — It’s no use, said Japie. Each community must carry its own weaklings. But your aunt won’t listen to me, and if you won’t speak to her, what can I do?

  — Perhaps, said the lieutenant, it would be better to send her away.

  And Japie was angry and said, in God’s name, why? But the lieutenant could not answer him.

  Then Japie struck the table with his fist and said, under what law?

  But again the lieutenant could not answer.

  So Japie got up and said, I always thought you were for the black nation. The girl’s working, she’s working well. Isn’t she doing what the magistrate told her to do? Why the devil should she be sent away?

  And the lieutenant did not answer. Japie looked at him with irritation.

  — Pieter, I don’t understand you, he said.

  And that was true, that he did not understand, and he went out of the lieutenant’s room, wondering why his friend should treat him in this way.

  That was the night that the young dominee came to my nephew’s house, and asked Nella with that boyish charm of his if he could speak to her husband privately. So the two men went into the room where the books and the stamps were kept.

  The young dominee sat down, and he said to the other with his face all shining, Pieter, I’m in love. And the other was desperate that men should come to him with their tales of love, but he summoned all his strength together, and made his face into the fashion of a smile, so that any man could have seen it was no smile, except a man in love.

  — Ah, you’re in love, he said.

  Then he said with the smile, you surprise me.

  — Have I any hope, Pieter?

  — Are you blind then?

  — No, I’m not blind. I think she likes me, Pieter. But I don’t wish to presume.

  — Haven’t you seen her eyes?

  — What do you mean, Pieter?

  My nephew got up, and walked about the room.

  — If we talk about you at the house, he said, my mother says she likes you, and my aunt says she likes you, and I say I like you. But that sister of mine doesn’t know what to do or say; she sits there afraid that someone will suddenly stand up and shout at her, do you like him? Then she would run crying from the room.

  The young dominee sat there, breathless and enraptured.

  — You don’t say, Pieter?

  — I am saying. Didn’t you hear me?

  — I heard you, Pieter. But I can’t quite believe it.

  — Do I look like a liar?

  Then the young dominee said, no, no, he did not think that my nephew looked like a liar, and my nephew must forgive him, because he didn’t quite know what he was saying, because he was deurmekaar, which means all confused, and he was onderstebo, which means upside down, and his position was ellendig, which means something stronger than miserable, and it can better be said that his position was one of misery. And he did not know that he might as well have stabbed his friend with a knife, as to say that this rapture was misery.

  And his friend said, ellendig, ellendig.

  And the blind man said, yes, ellendig, and went on to explain that the misery was a rapture, and the rapture was a misery, till the other wondered how long he could endure to hear the tales of a man in love.

  — And Pieter?

  — Yes?

  — What about your father?

  — What about my father?

  — I’m scared of him, Pieter.

  My nephew laughed, even as his father laughed.

  — You wouldn’t be the first, he said.

  — Sometimes I think he doesn’t like me, Pieter.

  — Ag, he likes you. Otherwise he wouldn’t tease her.

  — Does he tease her, Pieter?

  — He tells us she’s a good girl, always at the church.

  And the young dominee went off into a second rapture.

  — Shall I ask him then, Pieter?

  And my nephew laughed again as his father laughed.

  — Who else do you think will ask him, he said.

  — That’s true, that’s true.

  — Of course it’s true. And when he speaks to you, say ja if you mean ja, and say it as though you meant it; and say nee if you mean nee, but don’t say, ja, nee, because he’ll think you’re afraid of him.

  — But I am afraid of him, Pieter.

  — Well, he doesn’t know it, and don’t you let him know it.

  — Thanks for the advice, Pieter.

  And my nephew laughed again, and said, raad is goedkoop, which means, advice is cheap. Then he said, do you want some more advice?

  — Yes, Pieter.

  — Ask the girl first.

  — I was going to ask your father for permission to ask her.

  — That’s old-fashioned.

  — All right, Pieter. And Pieter?

  — Yes?

  — I’ve one more thing to ask.

  — Yes.

  — Would you become a diaken in the church?

  And my nephew continued to walk up and down the room.

  — A diaken, he said.

  — Yes, Pieter.

  I don’t know that I’d like to.

  The dominee said, with a gentle kind of reproof, it might be a duty.

  My nephew sat down at the table.

  — A duty, he said.

  — Yes, Pieter. You’re looked up to by the whole community. You’ve been given great gifts by the Lord. Shouldn’t these gifts be given back to Him also? Mightn’t some young fellow say, there’s Pieter van Vlaanderen, and what he does I’ll do too?

  So Pieter van Vlaanderen put on all his armour, and he looked straight at the young dominee and said, I’m not good enough.

  — Ah, it’s right to say that. But often when a man says, I’m not good enough to do it, but I’ll do it, then he finds he has strength to be better.

  — Is that so?

  And the young dominee, unconscious of any irony, said earnestly, that’s so, Pieter, so that the older man envied him his innocence.

  — I’ll think it over.

  — That’s all I ask, Pieter.

  — I’ll think it over, but I’ll promise nothing.

  He looked again directly at the dominee.

  — I’ll have a lot to think over, so I’ll take some time.

  The young dominee said with admiration, you’re modest.

  — Modest, eh?

  — Yes, very modest.

  My nephew laughed his father’s laugh.

  — You need more than modesty to be a diaken, he said.

  He stood up.

  — Come on, he said. Let’s go and tell Nella the news.

  The young dominee held out his hand.

  — Pieter, wish me luck.

  My nephew took him by the hand.

  — I wish you luck, he said. But don’t worry, he’ll say yes.

  And they laughed that the one could so easily read the other’s mind. Then the dark ugly wit came into the gentle man, and he said, tell Nella everything, hold nothing back, there’s nothing she likes better than a tale of love.

  When he had gone, and Nella had gone to bed, I went to my study and thought over the matter of becoming a diaken. I did not know if it would help me or otherwise, for if I could break one sacred vow, why should I be able to keep another? And if I broke one law, why would two be better? Then I thought perhaps it would give me a higher duty, and the very highness of the duty would be a help to me; yet why should a man be able to do a higher duty when he cannot do a low? I thought of those people of the early Church, who put upon themselves incredible vows and sufferings, and went mad, not holy.

  And I thought with envy of the dominee and young Vorster, who had open eyes and faces, so that you could see that nothing was hidden there at al
l. Had I not been once like that myself? Or perhaps I had not, I could not remember. I remember the thoughts and deeds that troubled me when I was a boy, but I think that is true of almost any boy. Surely my face was open. Yet I could not remember. Had I had too great a hunger for praise, so that I turned in on myself, and hid all my weaknesses? But I could not remember. Nor could I remember when I became so evil, for I was not evil in the early days of my love.

  I sat there in great agony of mind, hungering for my youth, to have it all over again and make it better. I thought of the farm Buitenverwagting, and the simple pleasures I had, and the call of the piet-my-vrou that even today can fill me with thoughts and memories unspeakable. Was I evil then, who had such joy of creation?

  I vowed anew that never again would I commit the unspeakable offence, and I decided that I would take no second vow until I could keep the first. And I thought of Nella and Martha and my mother, and my brother Frans’s wife, with their simple chastity, and wished to God I had been made a woman.

  SO THE young dominee came to our house, and went off with my brother to the sitkarner, leaving his wife and the girl and me to wait with apprehension. For my brother had done strange things to the suitors for his daughters. I have told you that my brother had two kinds of jokes, and one was meant to be laughed at, and one was not; and though we knew the one from the other, the young suitors did not always know. And sometimes one would laugh at the second kind of joke, with the whole family sitting there silent and apprehensive, so that the poor boy laughed alone; then my brother would look at him with contempt in his heavy-lidded eyes, and he would not come again. That was why my niece Henrietta did not marry Dick le Roux, who was a good but nervous boy; that was why she married her silent husband, because he never laughed at all, and one joke was the same to him as any other. He would sit in the house at Buitenverwagting, one night after the other, as though he were the only person there. And when Emily’s suitor came, the one who carried her off to Johannesburg, then by the grace of God my brother broke his leg, and by the time it was better the young man was like one of the family, and knew all the ins and outs.