Triomf

by Marlene van Niekerk

  They laughed at her about that ‘exercise in white’, all of them, not that she could see what was so funny, but she didn’t care. Everything had gone off well at that post-mortem.

  She was still in bandages the day Pop was cremated. Treppie’s fingers were in plaster and Lambert was on his crutches.

  She insisted: no coffin. And no hole in the ground, either.

  Ash.

  Ash is light.

  First she said they must throw out the ashes next to the Brixton tower where they’d gone to eat their take-aways that time, when they watched the lightning. The day Pop got so lucky with his scratch-cards. When Gerty was still with them.

  Treppie said fine, that was also where he remembered Pop the best after that sermon Pop gave him about the high current and the dead earth. But he couldn’t very well scatter ash with his fingers in plaster now, could he?

  A week or two later, Treppie took off the plaster with a screwdriver, right here in the lounge. All you saw were plaster-chips flying everywhere. Lambert’s foot was another story. It didn’t want to get better in the plaster. Had to be amputated. And all the time that box of ashes just stood there on the sideboard. Then one day she thought to herself, no, now she was going to make a plan before that ash got cold and forgotten. So she dug a hole in the yard, next to Gerty, and threw the ashes into the hole. Not even three hands’ full. And half of it blew away, too.

  She added to the writing that was already there on the wall, with a ball-point. They didn’t have any yellow left:

  Here lies Gerty Benade (and now also the ash of Pop ditto)

  Mother of Toby Benade

  and sweetheart dog of Mol ditto (and beloved by Mol ditto).

  (Both) dead from lack of breath.

  they’re

  Now in dog’s heaven

  where the dogs are seven eleven.

  There was some new space underneath, where Gerty’s grave had sunk down a bit, so she added:

  Just the way Pop dreamt it.

  Mol looks up into the sky. Now her tears mustn’t start running down her cheeks.

  Last time there were even roses for fireworks.

  ‘What you looking at, Mol?’

  It’s Treppie. He’s come out on to the stoep.

  Here comes Lambert, too. In his wheelchair. His other ankle’s also giving in, the one that was always so weak.

  Lambert’s much calmer ’cause of the stronger pills the doctor put him on. Patty-something.

  He’s boss of the house now, he thinks. But that’s okay. He can’t corner her anymore like he used to. Now she’s faster than him. And she’s glad, ’cause when he doesn’t take his pills he’s especially full of shit.

  Ever since Wonder Wall painted over his paintings, and since he’s been in the wheelchair, he doesn’t paint any more. And he doesn’t dig his hole either. Now he sits and watches TV all day. There’s just about nothing left of that big heap he dug out for his hole. Most of it got rained away and then things started growing on it. Last year, on Christmas Day, Treppie threw that watermelon on to the heap, the one they were too full to eat after Lambert’s braai. The watermelon went rotten, right there on top of that heap. Then, would you believe it, the other day she looked out of the back window and saw shoots growing all over the heap. And before long the heap was full of big, green leaves with watermelons sticking out like bums in the sun. Treppie says it’s a miracle. He says it wasn’t exactly seed that fell on fertile soil. But then again, he said, watermelons were like that. Very grateful plants. They grew from fuck-all, anywhere, any time. That’s why there was a song like ‘Sow the seed of the watermelon’. A folk song, said Treppie, was something that became popular ’cause everyone understood it, and in this case everyone ate it, too. He said he’d never heard of anyone who hadn’t enjoyed watermelon at some time or another. He hadn’t thought of it before, but that would really be a good idea for the NP’s flag, if they ever needed a new one, ’cause that little sun and those stripes hadn’t fooled anyone. That’s in the election, of course. Not that she can be bothered. The ANC party after the election looked a lot more jolly. At least they sang and danced, even old Mandela, though he took just one tiny sip of his champagne. And guess what, someone had taught that Niehaus how to dance. Treppie said it just showed you, you’d never think a dominee would be game for such high kicks. If FW wanted to get anywhere he’d have to take dancing lessons from the ANC. Marike too. It was good for frowns, Treppie said.

  They spent whole days in front of the TV, watching all the parties after the election and listening to the speeches and things at the Union Buildings. If Pop had been here he would’ve wanted them all to go to Pretoria together, just for the occasion. That’s what she told them. But Treppie said they’d be able to see everything much better on TV. And, they should remember, there wouldn’t be any bullet-proof glass for the likes of them. But as far as she was concerned that wouldn’t have been necessary. Heathens, Jews and Mohammedans were gathered there together, and everyone was quite jolly, without bullet-proofing. Even the aeroplanes didn’t shoot. They flew over with rainbows of smoke coming out of their tails. The cannons were shot off, yes, but that was just into the sky for the new president. And, mind you, if she had a cannon she would also have shot off a cannonball here out of the heart of Triomf for old Mandela, ’cause he walks so upright and he took everyone’s hands and he said, what was past was past, everyone must roll up their sleeves and look to the future now.

  Treppie said, ja, well, no fine, with or without rolled-up sleeves, but he wasn’t so sure about Marike. She looked even more like a missionary in Africa now with that bandaged hat of hers. If she didn’t watch out, they’d throw her into a three-legged pot and make pot luck out of her. But that wasn’t the most important thing, Treppie said. The most important thing was that they should never again say the word ‘kaffir’. Not in their own house and also not outside. What was past was past, he said, and it applied to them too. Lambert said he wasn’t so sure about that, but it was fine with her.

  Black people are living across the road now, too. And they’re okay on the whole, except they grow mielies on the pavement. Treppie says it’s an excellent development. He says he wishes those two dilly dykes would come and see their old house so they could take a lesson or two from its new inhabitants. In times like these no one can afford to buy fertiliser for sweetpeas.

  Ja, Treppie. He also just stays the same, except now he’s unfit for work, ’cause of his fingers. He doesn’t work at the Chinese any more. So, no more toilet seats or free crackers for them. And just one bottle of Klipdrift a month. Lambert’s in any case not allowed to drink so much any more. It doesn’t go well with his new pills.

  Just look at all the stars. Big, wet, runny stars. Old stars. And now she’s also almost a whole year older.

  After Pop’s ashes were put to rest she took the rose bush that Pop bought for her on her birthday last time, shame, and she planted it on top of his and Gerty’s grave. It was Treppie who said it would be a good place. Ash is supposed to be good for roses. She told them that’s where she also wanted to be buried one day. Scattered under the rose.

  ‘Hey, Ma, stop staring into the sky like that, or next thing you know a Martian pisses into your eye,’ says Lambert.

  ‘I’m looking at Orion. Look, a man of stars with three jewels in his belt.’

  ‘Where?’ asks Lambert.

  ‘There,’ Treppie points for Lambert to see.

  ‘Light blue, my beloved, for ever and ever. Orion washes my feet.’

  ‘What shit you talking now, Ma?’ says Lambert.

  ‘It’s not shit, it’s what you said last time, when you fitted out so badly and you were lying there in the den with a matchbox between your teeth. Pop also heard it. If he was here he would have told you.’

  ‘Lack of breath,’ says Lambert.

  ‘Multiple skull fractures,’ says Treppie.

  Let them think what they want. He was her warhead, through thick and thin.

&
nbsp; ‘Pheeew-doof!’

  She sees Lambert and Treppie look at each other. She knows what they’re thinking. They think she’s losing her marbles. But they can think what they like. And she thinks what she likes. And it’s okay that way.

  ‘In Orion,’ she says. That’s all she thinks about.

  ‘What?’ says Lambert.

  ‘I think Pop’s taking a rest up there, in Orion’s belt, in a hammock that hangs from the two outside stars.’

  ‘And look, Toby,’ she says to the dog, who’s come outside now to see what everyone else’s doing. ‘Look, Gerty’s resting between the two stars on the other side. All you can see is her tail sticking out.’

  ‘Ma, do you think you’re a whatsitsname or something who can see what’s going on in the stars?’

  ‘Astrologer,’ says Treppie. He’s smoking a cigarette with his crooked fingers. The bones grew back all crooked. Now he looks even more like the devil.

  ‘You think Pop checks his postbox every day?’ she asks. ‘I send my letters express, every night, in my dreams. Nice fat letters. Dear Pop, were you in the Spur today, and how was your T-bone? And did you and Gerty enjoy playing ball? The one that tastes like sherbet in your mouth? Now you’re out of the beast’s belly, hey, Pop, and you’re not looking from afar through a hole in his head any more. Now you’re nice and jolly, every day, hey! Not much longer, Pop, then I’ll be with you. Then I’ll feed you pieces of toast with honey. You and Gerty!’

  She shows them with her thumb and index finger how big the pieces will be.

  ‘And you needn’t worry, Pop, I won’t forget my driving lesson. Flossie’s over the hill now, but I practise the gears every night in Molletjie, here under the carport while the others watch the news. First, second, third, fourth, reverse. So I won’t be stranded one day if there’s a crisis here. For my head, so it won’t go rusty. And for my eyes, so they’ll stay sharp, okay?’

  All three of them look at the stars. They look at the big aeroplanes flying overhead, and the small ones too. Treppie points to a sputnik. It dips, on-off, on-off, through the sky. They talk about this and that. She talks along, with them, even if it is about other things. They’ve learnt by now to leave her alone.

  They stay there for a long time as the crackers get fewer and fewer.

  Until Orion tilts over to the west. He begins to dip, head first behind the roofs of Triomf. After a while you can’t see the jewels in his belt any more. All you can see are his heels sticking out above the overflow.

  Treppie points.

  ‘No more North,’ he says.

  Before heaven’s gates. As she predicted.

  North no more.

  GLOSSARY

  Aikona – South African vernacular for ‘no!’, ‘not on your life!’, ‘forget it!’

  AKs – AK-47 automatic guns used by ANC guerillas during the liberation struggle.

  Ampie – name of poor-white, backward character from the Ampie trilogy by Afrikaans writer Jochem van Bruggen (Die Natuurkind, 1924; Ampie: Die Meisiekind, 1927; and Ampie: Die Kind, 1942). Van Bruggen received the Hertzog Prize a record four times.

  AWB – Afrikaner Weerstandsbeweging (‘Afrikaner Resistance Movement’). Extremist militant and right-wing movement known for its struggle for territorial autonomy for the right-wing sector of the Afrikaners.

  Backvelders – poor Afrikaner whites of rural descent or who still live in the country.

  Beeld – name of a daily Afrikaans newspaper published in Johannesburg.

  Biltong – dried, salted and spiced fillet of meat (mutton, beef, venison, either in strips or grated); South African delicacy first developed by the Boer pioneers.

  Boer – white farmer; denotation for white farmer male; vernacular for police; a pejorative label.

  Boerewors – spiced sausage, usually barbecued on an open fire.

  Braai, braaivleis – (n) barbecue; (n) barbecue meat; (v) to have a barbecue. Common element of South African lifestyle.

  Brood van Heerden – former Apartheid security operative. ‘Brood’: ‘bread’.

  Bywoners – tenant farmers; pejorative denotation for rural poor whites.

  Cattie – a home-made catapult.

  Dagga – South African vernacular for cannabis.

  Daisy de Melker – (hist.) name of notorious woman poisoner, who murdered three husbands and was sentenced to death in 1932.

  Droëwors – dried spiced sausage.

  Drommedaris – name of the ship on which Jan van Riebeeck, the Dutch pioneer who arrived at the Cape in 1652, sailed when he arrived at Table Bay.

  Eugene Terre’Blanche – leader of the AWB (see entry above).

  Harry the Strandloper – the ‘strandlopers’, or the ‘watermen’, were a band of fifty-odd hunters, herders and outcasts of various kinds in the vicinity of Table Bay in the seventeenth century. These ‘watermen’ received small gifts in return for serving as postmasters, guides, refreshing ships and supplying intelligence about rival fleets. ‘Harry’s real name was Autshumato (1611–63) and he was the most important of the group. He was imprisoned by Jan van Riebeeck in 1658, but escaped from Robben Island in 1659.

  Helpmekaar – (hist.) exclusive white nationalist charity organisation founded in 1917 to assist poor whites.

  H.F. Verwoerd – famous leader of the National Party (see below); architect of legislative Apartheid.

  Horries – psychological condition, being ‘strung out’, derived from the word ‘horrible’.

  Hotnot – pejorative, racist label for Coloured person. Derived from ‘Hottentot’ (Khoikhoi), indigenous tribes found at the Cape by the first colonists.

  Ik heb gezegd – old Dutch expression used in Afrikaans to lend emphasis; ‘I have said it’.

  Inkatha – nationalist Zulu cultural and political organisation and political party.

  Ja – yes.

  J.B.M. Hertzog – leader of the National Party in coalition with the Labour Party, 1924–39.

  J.C. Smuts – leader of the South African Party, supporter of the allied war effort during World War II. Periods in office 1919–24 and 1939–48.

  Johanna van der Merwe – (hist.) Boer folk heroine who is reputed to have been stabbed nineteen times, and survived, during one of the famous Blauwkrantz ‘massacres’ in the conflict between the Zulus and the Voortrekkers (see below).

  Jopie Fourie – Boer folk hero of the Anglo–Boer war.

  Knobkierie – a stick with a round, carved head, used in sparring rituals by the indigenous people of South Africa and as a walking stick by the whites.

  Koevoets – name given to a notorious South African reconnaissance battalion during the war in Angola against SWAPO in the eighties.

  Kofifi – black vernacular for Sophiatown.

  Kombi – a South African word for a Volkswagen eight-or twelve-seater minibus.

  Koppie – rocky hill. Afrikaans word generally used in South African English for low stony outcrop.

  Larnies – South African slang for people from the upper classes who behave in snobbish ways.

  Lekker – ‘nice’, ‘delicious’.

  Lost City – a luxurious theme park based on a kitsch African legend of an ancient kingdom situated in the former homeland of Bophuthatswana. Magnus Mauser – pejorative name for Magnus Malan, former minister of defence in the repressive Apartheid cabinet of former president P.W. Botha.

  Mielies – corn (maize) on the cob.

  Muti – African term for medicine or magic potion dispensed by a traditional healer.

  NG Church – short for ‘Nederduits-Gereformeerde kerk’, Dutch Reformed Church. This is the most important church of the Africaans-speaking community. During the Apartheid years it supported the National Party leadership and gave legitimacy on religious grounds to all aspects of state ideology regarding race, gender, nationhood and political authority.

  NP – National Party. White Afrikaner political party in power from 1948–94.

  Oranje-blanje-blou – colours of the old South Afric
an flag: orange, white and blue.

  Paardekraal – a historical site where there is a monument to commemorate the Boer War.

  Pap – stiff porridge made from maize meal and sometimes eaten with sauce.

  Parktown Prawn – AKA the King Cricket; a common insect in South Africa, notoriously tough and difficult to kill.

  Pik Botha – long-time minister of foreign affairs in various Apartheid cabinets. ‘Pik’ is Afrikaans for ‘peck’.

  Racheltjie de Beer – (hist.) Boer folk heroine known for protecting her siblings during the Anglo–Boer war.

  Reddingsdaadbond – exclusive white nationalist charity organisation founded in 1940.

  Sjambok – a whip with a wooden handle and a plaited flail made from thin strips of leather.

  Slang van Zyl – former Apartheid security operative. ‘Slang’: ‘snake’.

  Stoep – veranda.

  Tsotsi – pejorative, vernacular for urban black male person of a criminal bent.

  Tuisgebak – an old-fashioned bourgeois word for home-made biscuits, tarts and cakes.

  Vaderland – ‘fatherland’.

  Vierkleur – old Transvaal flag.

  Vleis Visagie – former Apartheid security operative. ‘Vleis’: ‘meat’.

  Voetsek – ‘bugger off!’ Slang used to chase away dogs and people.

  Volk – nation; carries particular weight of feeling with reference to pseudofascist Afrikaner nationalism.

  Volksie, Volla – Volkswagen Beetle.

  Volksmoeders – ‘mothers of the nation’.

  Voortrekkers – denotation for the first Dutch colonists who pioneered the land of South Africa in their characteristic ox-wagons, purportedly to escape from the unfair and interfering practices of the British government during the British rule at the Cape.

  Vroue-Landbou-Unie – women’s agricultural union.