I must work quickly before it gets dark. I take small branches and pack them into a triangle in the middle of the circle of stones. Then I light the fire but it dies. I go outside and tear up longish strings of dried grass. I roll them up into a ball. And then I take dried needles from the Lebowitz tree. I put the needles and the dried grass between the gaps in the triangle. I light the dried grass and needles. They crackle and burn quickly. The branches also catch the fire. They start burning. I blow to encourage the fire. Feed me, it says. I go outside and come back with more branches. I feed the fire slowly, making sure that all the branches are on fire. And when the ends are not on fire, I push them into the flames. It burns slowly at first. I watch it, my eyes smiling with fire. When I see that the fire is burning properly I bring in the first victim. I bring in a branch that looks like an arm.
I place it carefully over the fire. It burns easily. It was begging for destruction. I watch the flames cover it. A quiet hissing sound fills the cave. The arm starts turning black. Its skin peels off. I watch the fire eating it. Underneath, the branches are orange hot. It is hell in here and I’m the devil, I say. Let’s get T-rex. I go outside again and return with a branch that looks like a monster’s head. I put it on top of the arm. There is some dried fluff around it. It is the first to burn. Ja, Gerald, I say as I look at the monster’s head. Burn. You want fire, don’t you? You want me to burn you, don’t you? And then I think of something. I take off my T-shirt and look at my jacket. Then all of a sudden the fire gets too big and feels hot against my face. I get out of the cave and give it space.
Outside I can see smoke rising, drifting into the sky. And I can hear the stream running outside. It is quiet and dark. And the moon is out; all of it. I feel calm and fear nothing. I climb onto the roof of the cave. The rocks seem to glow in the moonlight and the orange of my jacket also seems to glow. The rocks look like strange creatures. They have horns and some of them look like people from afar.
16
I have never been on my own this long in Cape Town. It feels good. I don’t feel rushed. I sit in a pothole in the rock that looks like it was shaped for sitting. The sun has become the moon. All the cats will be roaming the streets. The moon does that to them. They can’t sleep and stay awake to bury their secrets outside. I don’t like cats much. They don’t really need people. There’s something stubborn and alone about them. And in their eyes you can see that they are smart. They know things, like what to do when the moon is out.
I stand up to take a piss. The water glistens in the moonlight. I think of the seagulls and what they did for me that day on the roof.
I go back to the cave and find that the fire is almost out. It is dark in there. I get more dried grass and needles. I put them on the red embers and put small branches on top. They burn quickly. I add more branches. The fire picks up. Feed me. Feed me, it says begging me for total destruction. I bring in a monster with many arms and legs. I break off its limbs and throw them in the fire. They burn and the skin peels. When I throw in the rest of the monster the fire jumps a little and makes a hissing noise like it’s watching me. I watch the flames play with all the colours of the rainbow. But I like orange best. I like the burning embers underneath. The more I watch the fire, the more I feel like dancing. I take off my jacket and put it in the corner. It will be my bed. Then I start slapping my thighs like a drum. My back straightens and I close my eyes. The smoke fills my head. The fire makes me sweat.
I close my eyes and see the night. I sway my neck, drums playing in my head. I slap my thighs. The fire burns. I start to travel through the night. I see a grey wolf running in the moonlight. With powerful paws it leaves its prints on the ground. I move with the speed of this wolf. It runs to the edge of a cliff and becomes a big bird that spreads itself across the sky. It holds a rat in its mouth. The bird flies to its nest and feeds its babies. They tear up the meat. I feel their hunger. I drift again till I see a monster in the darkness. It breathes fire but it is dark like the night. Its skin is made of darkness and stars like the night. When it moves you see stars moving in a string. It moves in the form of the number eight and breathes fire. Fire! It breathes fire, this beautiful monster, and fills the sky. I move with it and follow it. It goes higher and higher into the air. I follow it. I move further and further away from the ground. I move so far away from the earth that it becomes smaller and smaller till I can only see a ball. I keep following the monster that breathes fire. Every time I think I’ve lost it, it opens its mouth and out comes fire. We move past many balls and in the distance I start to see a murky soup. We get closer and the soup becomes stars. Millions and millions of stars that look like floating diamonds. We move through many colours and soups and stars. Then we start to see the sun. It is a large fireball with brilliant explosions.
I start to feel warm as I get closer to the sun. I watch the monster go into the fire. A big explosion happens. Boomda! I take in a deep breath and open my eyes. There is a man standing at the entrance of the cave. He startles me.
“Can I come in?” he says.
I wipe my face of sweat and call him in with my arm. I wonder how long he was standing there. He bends down to come in. The first thing I see in the light is his long brown hair. He is wearing sandals, shorts and a vest. He also carries a bag. He leaves it outside the cave, there isn’t enough space inside. I watch him closely. He sits next to me and stretches his hands towards the fire like he’s greeting it.
“I’ve been walking all day. The night caught up with me.”
“Oh,” I say and study him.
“My name is Oscar,” he says and reaches out to shake my hand. He has a firm grip. “And yours?”
“Just call me Blue.”
“Okay, Blue.”
He has a funny way of speaking.
“You’re not from around here, are you?”
“Who is in Cape Town?” he says and ties his hair back. He has powerful arms. I can see his arm muscles flexing and aching to do something.
“Nice fire.”
“Nice place to sleep, don’t you think?”
“Yes, but I don’t think there’s enough room for two.”
“Ja,” I say and look at him. You’re making yourself welcome, I think, smiling.
He takes out a small pouch from his bag and some Rizla. I watch him closely. He rolls a joint.
“Cherry tobacco.” He smiles as he lights it.
“Ah,” I say stupidly, but it isn’t like that. I’m just comfortable.
I go outside to get some more wood. I bring back a snake and hope for the best. I put it carefully in the fire. He takes small puffs and plays with the smoke, blowing out small circles and other interesting things to watch. He passes me the last half of his joint. A nice cherry smell fills the cave.
“You come here often?”
“No,” I say. I wanted to say yes but decided against it.
“I stay on the other side in Hout Bay.”
“You mean you walked from there?”
“Ja.”
“It isn’t that far,” I say and he is not surprised to hear me say that.
“Then you must walk a lot.”
“I do.”
He looks at my feet but says nothing. He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes and then he puts his glasses on again. He goes to his bag and takes out something. He brings back a silver thing and starts unwrapping it. He offers me four slices of bread. He eats the other four. He doesn’t waste time. He crunches into his food. He probably smokes zol, I smile inside, and eat my food quickly. We just about finish at the same time.
“What was that thing?”
“Hummus and cheese.”
“What?”
“Hummus,” he says licking his fingers. “I make it myself.”
“It’s nice.”
We go outside to have a drink in the stream.
“How did you find this place?” I ask him.
“I was lost. It was dark. I saw smoke in the distance. So I went towards it,” he
says and kneels down to drink. I put my face near the water and suck.
“And you?”
“First time here. I found it by luck.”
“You tired?”
“Not really,” he says and splashes his face. “It’s nice and hot though.”
“Pity there isn’t a pool around here.”
“Actually there’s a nice reservoir on the other side.”
“How far is it?”
“About two hours’ walk there.”
I think about it.
“Take me there.”
“Are you crazy?”
“There’s plenty of light.”
He rubs his hair and thinks about it.
“How will we ever find this place when we get back?”
“I check.”
“We can always go tomorrow.”
He’s inviting himself again, I say.
“Where did you say you were from?” I ask as we sit on a rock.
“Hout Bay. After Clifton and Camps Bay.”
“Okay, now I see. So you must be rich.”
“You never told me where you come from.” He ignores my comment.
“I live under a bridge.”
“Which one?”
“The one near Green Point.”
“Oh, you mean the one that was under construction but was never completed.”
“If it is, I never noticed.”
“Ja, it’s an incomplete bridge. I’ve heard weird stories from there.”
“Like what?”
“Well, there’s this guy who lives there, right, and he’s supposed to control the entire rat population in Cape Town. It’s kind of an urban legend.”
“That’s nothing. I know a guy who lives there and he can make anyone, take you right, he can change you into a pigeon or a rat.”
“It’s probably the same guy I’m talking about.”
“I doubt it. He never leaves that place. When he does he’s always in his car.”
“What does he drive?”
“A white Ford Grenada.”
“Lot of white cars in Cape Town. Ever noticed that?”
“No.”
“Anyway, people are always talking shit. You never know anything really unless you’re there,” he says.
“I know what you mean. Ja, it’s like have you ever tried to explain what it feels like to swim, to someone who’s never been in water like that?”
“No.”
“It’s crazy. You can’t. I tried to explain swimming to this one friend of mine called Liesel but she’s being a bitch to me. And I couldn’t.”
“I get like that when I talk about the mountain.”
“What do you do?”
“It doesn’t matter. Nobody understands why I do this three times a week.”
“How long have you been here?’
“Three months.”
“Don’t worry, it’s normal. She’s bad, Cape Town. She takes you in, in the beginning, but be careful. She’ll destroy you if you’re not watching.”
“That’s what my boyfriend says.”
I’m a little surprised.
“I didn’t think you were a moffie,” I say.
“Whatever,” he says.
“I work with them.”
“What do you mean, you work with them?”
I pat my dick.
“Oh I see, that sort of thing. Well, I’m not into that.”
“Good, ’cause I was about to tell you to fuck off,” I joke.
He doesn’t take it kindly but doesn’t make too much of a big deal about it.
“You’re quite full of shit for a little guy, aren’t you?”
“I bet you haven’t done some of the things I’ve done,” I say and feel nothing.
He takes out a joint from his pocket.
“Malawi,” he says.
We smoke it together, passing it between us after a few drags.
I start to feel high. The sky seems close, like I can touch the stars.
“So what’s it like living under a bridge?” he says.
“You see the stars at night. If you stand close to the fence.”
“So what, you live with homeless people?”
“We have a home. It’s just not your normal kind of home with a kitchen and all that stuff but it’s still a home.”
We finish the joint.
“We better get some sleep,” he says in a grown-up voice.
I hate it when they do that. It just changes everything. It’s like they become something else. Sorry, I’m a grown-up now. Time to sleep. Fuck off, you cunt.
I go down first. I found the place, I say. I walk quickly in the dark and soon find my way into the tunnel. I can hear him behind me. He’s big and tall and bumps himself. On the ground when he walks he isn’t gentle. He makes the plants make a noise like a clumsy giant. In the cave it’s dark. The fire is almost out. I see him at the door. He takes his big bag. “I’m going on top,” he says. I don’t say anything. I put on my jacket and zip it up to the top and lie on the ground.
I feel irritable and can’t sleep. I go back outside and pull out more grass. I get some needles and put them in the dying embers. I blow hard. Nothing happens. I take more small branches and make another triangle on the old fire. I put the needles in carefully and more grass and forget about my visitor. I blow hard and only think about the fire. I must feed it, I’m hungry. It starts to burn. I feed it gently. It burns slowly, it’s tired. I only feed it a little arm and watch it. When that’s gone, I’ll sleep, I tell myself. He comes back again. “Are you starting up another fire?”
“Why not?” I say. He doesn’t say anything, he leaves. I hear him crunching the plants outside. He bumps his head and yells out. The fire burns slowly.
He won’t last, I think to myself. The mountain will eat him up. It’ll make him mad. It’ll make all his friends mad. He’ll stop coming to work and will only want to spend all his time on the mountain. His friends will think he’s mad and that moffie guy of his, he’ll leave him.
I watch the smoke rise out the cave. It’s driving him crazy. That’s why he couldn’t sleep. I didn’t ask him to come here. There’s plenty of room on the mountain. Why did he have to come here? White people are full of kak. I watch the fire and ache to throw in a monster but it burns slowly so I leave it alone. I hope he goes in the morning, I think to myself. I can find that pool by myself. Just because they smoke with you, they think they can do and say anything to you. Well fuck you, asshole. Jou poes, man. Jou ma lek hol. The fire burns. I hug my knees and stop thinking about him. Who does he think he is?
The fire sputters and the cave goes a little darker. I must sleep now, I say. Tomorrow I will swim. I’m going to destroy that water. I’m going to swim like it’s my last day to swim, I say as I curl up to sleep. The ground is soft. I don’t mind the dirt in my hair. The fire is my blanket. I close my eyes and drift.
17
In my dreams I walk all over Cape Town. I meet everyone I know and they all say nothing to me. Their lips are sewn together with wire and they bleed. I see everyone I know except Gerald. I even see myself walking up the mountain. My skin is thin and looks like a lizard’s with all the markings. I watch myself crawling up the mountain. Along the way I meet a crash of rhinoceroses. They ram over people and injure them. My trail up the mountain is covered in blood. I follow the blood path as I climb.
At the cave I meet a woman who looks like she lived a very long time ago. She is short and her bum is big but she has the lightest smile I’ve ever seen. She wears only a leather thong and her long breasts are like fruit, like fat pears. She is shy and hides in the cave. I follow her in, careful as I walk. She sits in the corner of the cave while a small fire burns. I go inside and sit next to her. I can’t stop looking at her face. She has a beautiful face and a yellow skin that seems to glow. In the cave she looks at home. It is neat. There are carved bones, herbs that make you want to smoke them, clay animals and lots of other small beautiful things. And the floor is
the earth. It is the softest sand I have ever sat on. I play with it while I stare into her eyes. They are big and sad.
“What’s your name?” I ask her.
She begins to sob.
“Saartjie,” she says and stops crying.
I throw some sand onto the fire. It sputters. She giggles.
“I have come from very far.”
“How far?” she asks.
“Maybe over the ocean, I don’t know.”
“That is a very hard thing, not to know where you come from.”
“It has always been like that,” I tell her. “Do you live here alone?”
She starts to sob again.
“Forget that. Do you like swimming?” I ask her.
“I was once a fish,” she says and stops crying.
“I was once a seal. I used to love water but then I got lost and now I’m here. Do you know the way home?”
“This is home for me. I don’t know anything else.”
I think about her answer.
“Do you know anyone else?”
She rubs her eyes and two drops fall from one eye.
“Forget that. You mustn’t cry,” I tell her.
“Will you be staying here long?” she asks and wipes her tears.
“I don’t know but I like it here. I live down below.”
“The city. I don’t like all their noise.”
“I know. I have been lost there for a long time. I’m trying to find my way home. They said I must find T-rex first. Have you seen T-rex?”
“Oh, you want T-rex?” she says and claps her hands with excitement. “He is out today.”
Thirteen Cents: A Novel (Modern African Writing Series) Page 12