Like riding a horse, you remember how often you fell off before you learned to ride? But can I start now? Ada reached for the spirits bottle, Poured a little into her cupped hand and spread it on the stump.
We’ll have to wait until Doctor Van Rooyen tells us you’re ready. It won’t be long now It wasn’t. After his next visit Doctor Van Rooyen spoke to Waite as they walked together to the doctor’s trap. You can try him with the peg-leg, it’ll give him something to work for. Don’t let him overtire himself and watch the stump doesn’t get rubbed raw. We don’t want another infection. Peg-leg. Waite’s mind echoed the ugly word as he watched the trap out of sight. Peg-leg’: he clenched his fists at his sides, not wanting to turn and see the pathetically eager face behind him on the veranda.
The you sure thats comfortable! Waite squatted in front of Garrick’s chair adjusting the leg and Ada stood next to him. Yes, yes, let me try it now. Gee, old Sean will be surprised, hey? I’ll be able to go back with him on Monday, wont I? Garrick was trembling with eagerness.
We’ll see Waite grunted noncommittally. He stood up and moved round beside the chair.
Ada, my dear, take his other arm. Now listen, Garry! I want you to get the feel of it first. We’ll help you up and you can just stand on it and get your balance. Do you understand? Garrick nodded vigorously.
All right, then up you come. Garrick drew the leg towards him and the tip scraped across the wooden floor. They lifted him and he put his weight on it.
Look at me, I’m standing on it. Hey, look I’m standing on it His face glowed. Let me walk, come on, Let me walk. Ada glanced at her husband and he nodded. Together they led Garrick forward. He stumbled twice but they held him. Klunk and klunk again the peg rang on the floor boards. Before they reached the end of the veranda Garrick had learned to lift the leg high as he swung it forward.
on the way back They turned and he stumbled only once to the chair.
That’s fine, Garry, you’re doing fine laughed Ada.
You’ll be on your own in no time, Waite grinned! with relief. He had hardly dared to hope it would be so easy, and Garrick fastened on his words. Let me stand on my own now. Not this time, boy, you’ve done well enough for one day. Oh, gee, Pa. Please. I won’t try and walk, I’ll just stand.
You and Ma can be ready to catch me. Please, Pa, please. Waite hesitated and Ada added her entreaty. Let him, dear, he’s done so well.
It’ll help build up his confidence, Very well. But don’t try to move, Waite agreed.
Are you ready, Garry? Let him go! They took their hands off him cautiously. He teetered slightly and their hands darted back. I’m all right, leave me. He grinned at them confidently and once more they released him. He stood straight and steady for a moment and then he looked down at the ground. The grin froze on his face. He was alone on a high mountain, Ins stomach turned giddily within him and he was afraid, desperately unreasonably afraid. He lurched violently and the first shriek tore from him before they could hold him. I’m falling.
Take it off! Take it off! They sat him in the chair with one swift movement. Take it off! I’m going to fall! The terrified screams racked Waite as he tore at the straps that held the leg.
it’s off, Garry, you’re safe. I’m holding you. Waite took him to his chest and held him, trying to quieten him with the strength of his arms and the security of his own big body, but Garrick’s terrified struggling and his shrieks continued.
Take him to the bedroom, get him inside Ada spoke and Waite ran with him, still holding him against his chest.
Then for the first time Garrick found his hiding-place.
At the moment when his terror became too great to bear he felt something move inside his head, fluttering behind his eyes like the wings of a moth. His vision greyed as though he was in a mist bank. The mist thickened and blotted out all sight and sound. It was warm in the mist and safe. No one could touch him here for it wrapped and protected him.
He was safe.
I think he’s asleep, Waite whispered to his wife, but there was a puzzled expression in his voice. He looked carefully at the boy’s face and listened to his breathing. It happened so quickly though, it isn’t natural.
And yet, and yet he looks all right Do you think, we should call the doctor2 Ada asked. No. Waite shook his head. I’ll just cover him up and stay with him until he wakes. He woke in the early evening, sat up and smiled at them as though nothing had happened. Relaxed and shyly cheerful, he ate a big supper and no one mentioned the leg. It was almost as though Garrick had forgotten about it.
Sean came home on the following Friday afternoon. He had a black eye, not a fresh one; it was already turning green round the edges of the bruise. Sean was very reticent on the subject of how he had obtained it. He brought with him also a clutch of fly catchers, eggs which he gave to Garrick, a five red-lipped. snake in a cardboard box which Ada immediately condemned to death despite Sean’s impassioned speech in its defence, and a bow carved from M’senga wood which was, in Sean’s opinion, the best wood for a bow.
His arrival wrought the usual change in the household of Theunis Kraal, more noise, more movement and more laughter.
There was a huge roast for dinner that evening, with potatoes baked in their jackets. These were Sean’s favourite foods and he ate like a hungry python. Don’t put so much in Your mouth, Waite remonstrated from the head of the table, but there was a fondness in his voice. It was hard not to show favouritism with his sons. Sean accepted the rebuke in the spirit it was given.Frikkie Oberholster’s bitch had pups this week, six of them No, said Ada firmly. Gee, Ma, just one. You heard your mother, Sean poured gravy over his meat, cut a potato in half and lifted one piece to his mouth. It had been worth a try. He hadn’t really expected them to agree. What did you learn this week? Ada asked. This was a nasty question. Sean had learned as much as was necessary to avoid trouble, no more. Oh, lots of things, he replied airily and then to change the subject. Have you finished Garry’s new leg yet, Pa? There was a silence. Garrick’s face went expressionless and he dropped his eyes to his plate. Sean put the other half of the potato in his mouth and spoke around it.
If you have., me and Garry can go fishing up at the falls tomorrow., Don’t talk with your mouth full, snapped Waite with unnecessary violence. You’ve got the manners of a pig. Sorry, Pa, Sean muttered.
The rest of the meal passed in uneasy silence and as soon as it finished Sean escaped to the bedroom. Garry went with him hopping along the passage with one hand on the wall to balance himself.
What’s Pa so mad about? Sean demanded resentfully as soon as they were alone.
I don’t know Garrick sat on the bed. Sometimes he just gets mad for nothing, you know that. Sean pulled his shirt off over his head, screwed it into a ball and threw it against the far wall.
$You’d better pick it up, else there’ll be trOuble, Garrick warned mildly. Sean dropped his pants and kicked them after the shirt. This show of defiance put him in a better mood. He walked across and stood naked in front of Garrick.
Look he said with pride. Hairs! hairs.
Garrick inspected them. indisputably they were hairs.
There aren’t very many. Garrick couldn’t disguise the envy in his voice. I bet I’ve got more than you have, Sean challenged, Let’s count them. But Garrick knew himself to be an outright loser; he slipped off the bed and hopped across the room. Steadying himself against the wall he stooped and picked up Sean’s discarded clothing he brought it back and dropped it in the soiled linen basket beside the door. Sean watched him and it reminded him of his unanswered question. Has Pa finished your leg yet, Garry? Garry turned slowly, he swallowed and nodded once, a quick jerky movement. What’s it like? Have you tried it yet? The fear was on Garrick again. He twisted his face from side to side as though seeking an escape. There were footsteps in the passage outside the door. Sean dived at his bed and snatching up his nightgown pulled it over his head as he slid between the sheets. Garrick was still standing beside the clothe
s basket when Waite Courtney came into the room. Come on, Garry, what’s holding you up? Garrick hurried across to his bed and Waite looked at Sean. Sean grinned at him with all the charm of his good looks and Waite’s face softened into a grin also. Nice to have you home again, boy. It was impossible to be angry with Sean for long.
He reached out and took a handful of Sean’s thick black hair. Now I don’t want to hear any talking in here after the lamp’s out, do you understand? He tugged Sean’s head from side to side gently, embarrassed by the strength of his feeling for his son. The next morning Waite Courtney rode back to the homestead for his breakfast when the sun was high. One of the grooms took his horse and led it away to the paddock and Waite stood in front of the saddle room and looked around him. He looked at the neat white posts of the paddock, at the well-swept yard, at his house filled with fine furniture. It was a good feeling to be rich, especially when you knew what it was like to be poor. Fifteen thousand acres of good grassland, as many cattle as the land would carry, gold in the bank. Waite smiled and started across the yard.
He heard Ada singing in the dairy. How rides the farmer Sit, sit, so Sit, sit, so, tra la The Capetown girls say Kiss me quick Kiss me quick, tra la.
She had a clear sweet voice and Waite’s smile broadened, it was a good feeling to be rich and to be in love.
He stopped at the door of the dairy; because of the thick stone walls and heavy thatch it was cool and dark in the room. Ada stood with her back to the door, her body moving in time to the song and the turning of the butter churn. Waite watched her a moment, then he walked up behind her and put his arms around her waist.
Startled, she turned within his arms and he kissed her on the mouth.
Good morning, my pretty maid.
She relaxed against him. Good morning, sir, she said. What’s for breakfast? Ah! what a romantic fool I married! She sighed, Come along, let’s go and see. She took off her apron, hung it behind the door, patted her hair into place and held her hand out to him. They walked hand-in-hand across the yard and into the kitchen.
Waite sniffed loudly. Smells all right. Where are the boys? Joseph understood English though he could not speak it. He looked up from the stove. Nkosi, they are on the front veranda Joseph had the typical moon-round face of the Zulu, when he smiled his teeth were big and white against the black of his skin. They are playing with Nkosizana Garry’s wooden leg Waite’s face flushed. How did they find it? Nkosianq Sean asked me where it was and I told him you had put it in the linen cupboard You bloody fool! roared Waite. He dropped Ada’s hand and ran.
As he reached the lounge he heard Sean shout and immediately there was the sound of someone falling heavily on the veranda. He stopped in the middle of the lounge floor; he couldn’t bear to go out and face Garrick’s terror. He felt sick with dread and with his anger at Sean.
Then he heard Sean laugh. Get off me, man, don’t just lie there. And then, incredibly, Garrick’s voice. Sorry, it caught in the floor boards. Waite walked across to the window and looked out onto the veranda. Sean and Garrick lay in a heap together near the far end. Sean was still laughing and on Garrick’s face was a set nervous smile. Sean scrambled up. Come on.
Get up.
He gave Garrick his hand and dragged him to his feet.
They stood clinging to each other, Garrick balancing precariously on his peg. I bet if it was me I could just walk easy as anything, said Sean.
I bet you couldn’t, it’s jolly difficult. Sean let go of him and stood back with his arms spread ready to catch him. Come on. Sean walked backwards in front of him and Garrick followed unsteadily, his arms flapping out sideways as he struggled to keep his balance, his face rigid with concentration. He reached the end of the veranda and caught onto the rail with both hands. This time he joined in Sean’s laughter.
Waite became aware that Ada was standing beside him; he glanced sideways at her and her lips formed the words come away. She took his arm.
At the end of June 1876 Garrick went back to school with Sean. It was almost four months since the shooting. Waite drove them. The road to Lady-burg was through open forest, two parallel tracks with the grass growing in between, it brushed the bottom of the buggy. The horses trotted in the tracks, their hooves silent on the thick powder dust. At the top of the first rise Waite slowed the horses and turned in his seat to look back at the homestead. The early sun gave the whitewashed walls of Theunis Kraal an orange glow and the lawns around the house were brilliant green. Everywhere else the grass was dry in the early winter and the leaves of the trees were dry also.
The sun was not yet high enough to rob the veld of its colour and light it only with the flat white glare of midday. The leaves were golden and russet and redbrown, the same red-brown as the bunches of Afrikander cattle that grazed among the trees. Behind it all was the back-drop of the escarpment, striped like a zebra with the green black bush that grew in its gullies. Look, there’s a hoopoe, Sean! Yeah, I saw it long ago.
That’s a male. The bird flew up from in front of the horses. chocolate and black and white wings, its head crested like an Etruscan helmet.
How do you know? challenged Garrick.
“Cause of the white in its wings. They’ve all got white in their wings.
They haven’t, only the males. Well, all the ones I’ve seen got white in their wings, said Garrick dubiously. Perhaps you’ve never seen a female. They’re jolly rare.
They don’t come out of their nests much.
Waite Courtney smiled and turned back in his seat. Garry’s right, Sean, you can’t tell the difference by their feathers. The male’s a little bigger, that’s all.
I told you, said Garrick, brave under his father’s protection.
You know everything, muttered Sean sarcastically. I suppose you read it in all those books, hey? there’s the train. Garrick smiled complacently. Look, there It was coming down the escarpment, dragging a long grey plume of smoke behind it. Waite started the horses into a trot. They went down to the concrete bridge over the Baboon Stroom.
I saw a Yellow fish. It was a stick, I saw it too. The river was the boundary of Waite’s land. They crossed the bridge and went up the other side. In front of them was Lady-burg. The train was running into the town past the cattle sale pens; it whistled and shot a puff of steam high into the air. The town was spread out, each house padded around by its orchard and garden. A thirty-six ox team could turn in any one of the wide streets. The houses were burnt brick or whitewashed, thatched or with corrugated-iron roofs painted green or dull red. The square was in the centre and the spire of the church was the hub of Lady-burg.
The school was on the far side of town.
Waite trotted the horses along Main Street. There were a few people on the side walks; they moved with early morning stiffness beneath the flamboyant trees that lined the street and every one of them called a greeting to Waite. He waved his whip at the men and lifted his hat to the women, but not high enough to expose the bald dome of his head. In the centre of town the shops were open, and standing on long thin legs in front of his bank was David Pye. He was dressed in black like an undertaker. Morning, Waite. Morning, David, called Waite a little too heartily. it was not six months since he had paid off the last mortgage on Theunis Kraal and the memory of debt was too fresh in his mind; he felt as embarrassed as a newly released prisoner meeting the prison governor on the street. Can you come in and see me after you’ve dropped off your boys? Have the coffee ready, agreed Waite. It was well known that no one was ever offered coffee when they called on David Pye. They went on down the street, turned left at the far end of Church Square, passed the courthouse and down the dip to the school hostel.
There were half a dozen Scotch carts and four-wheelers standing in the yard. Small boys and girls swarmed over them unloading their luggage.
Their fathers stood in a group at one end of the yard, brown-faced men, with carefully brushed beards, uncomfortable in their suits which still showed the creases of long hanging. These
men lived too far out for their children to make the daily journey into school. Their land sprawled down to the banks of the Tugela or across the plateau halfway to Pietermaritzburg.
Waite stopped the buggy, climbed down and loosened the harness on his horses and Sean jumped from the outside seat to the ground and ran to the nearest bunch of boys. Waite walked across to the men; their ranks opened for him, they smiled their welcomes and in turn reached for his right hand. Garrick sat alone on the front seat of the buggy, his leg stuck out stiffly in front of him and his shoulders hunched as though he were trying to hide.
After a while Waite glanced back over his shoulder. He saw Garrick sitting alone and he made as if to go to him, but stopped immediately.
His eyes quested among the swirl of small bodies until they found Sean.
Sean! Sean paused in the middle of an animated discussion. Yes, Pa. Give Garry a hand with his case. Aw, gee, Pa, I’m talking Sean! Waite scowled with both face and voice. All right, I’m going. Sean hesitated a moment longer and then went back to the buggy. Come on, Garry. Pass the cases down. Garrick roused himself and climbed awkwardly over the back of the seat. He handed the luggage down to Sean who stacked it beside the wheel, then turned to the group that had followed him across.
Karl, you carry that. Dennis, take the brown bag. Don’t drop it, men it’s got four bottles of jam in it. Sean issued his instructions. Come on, Garry. They started off towards the hostel and Garrick climbed down from the buggy and limped quickly after them.
know what, Sean? said Karl loudly. Pa let me start using his rifle.
Sean stopped dead, and then more with hope than conviction, He did not! He did, Karl said happily. Garrick caught up with them and they all stared at Karl. How many shots did you have? asked someone in an awed voice.