Let me switch off the lights so that you may see better.
Do you see?"
Yes.
“Uhm.
Fish tank.
Real, yes.
What do you mean?
Exactly like the tank from Finding Nemo.
Look.
Live fish.
Go and see.
I’ll pay the deliver dude quick."
(My Interpretation comes to an end and Love today Mika starts playing softly over CD player.)
"Why do you tippy toe like that?"
So light on the marble floor.
Like a fairy.
Who would've guessed they really exist.
You.
Sweetpea.
"Come.
Everyone is in the tank.”
Uhm.
“Nemo sure cost me."
A lot.
"Sharky was the easiest to get.
Who would think there are such a lot of these... (creepy) fish.
Bubbles is in there too.”
Uhm.
Ha-ha.
“Yes.
But...
Here..."
That surprised confused look on her face.
What should I do with this crap?
Ha-ha-ha!
"It's a vuvuzela."
Yes.
"Vuvuzela.
Noisy contraption.
Deafens people.
Literally.
You should say thank you you’re not here with the Football World Cup now.
Oh!
They’re making a noise before the cocks are crowing.
Monotonous.
The dogs go crazy too."
Can’t stop myself from laughing.
"But I have a secret I want to share with you."
Now she looks serious.
Secret.
What secret is this?
Let us hear.
Ha-ha-ha.
She sure does make me laugh.
"The trick with the vuvuzela is that you use it where no one can hear it.
Can you guess where?"
She doesn’t even try.
Blank expression.
More a “what the
[email protected] do you want me to say” look.
Ha-ha.
Uhm.
"Under water."
Yes.
"Check out what happens when you blow the vuvuzela underwater.
You can go through the bathroom to the tank.
Through the small door.
Just push the vuvuzela, through the flap, nice and deep.
Then blow with all your might.
Go ahead."
She leaves for the bathroom.
On her tippy toes.
Fairy.
I sat down and put the uplifting CD louder.
(Relax Mika starts playing moderately loud on CD player.)
I can do with a bit of upliftment.
Of any kind.
I need it.
These parts of the dream are the hardest.
The silence.
I cannot hear her.
Can only guess what she thinks or says.
I can see her before me.
So real.
Can almost touch her.
But she is far away.
So near and yet so far.
Yes.
But, I cannot chicken out now.
It must happen now or...
No.
We will make it.
Just finish eating and then we must leave.
Time is running out.
I can feel it.
Oh, Lord.
Be with me.
Protect her.
More than anything, God.
Please protect her.
Amen.
♪ ♫
It's as if I'm scared.
It's as if I'm terrified.
It's as if I'm scared.
It's as if I'm playing with fire.
Scared.
It's as if I'm terrified.
Are you scared?
Are we playing with fire?
♫ ♪
vi
"Blow!"
She sure looks comical with her face against the side of the tank.
Seems like her big tongue is sticking into the tank.
Her face squashed flat due to the angle of the glass.
Now she looks more like a fairy.
With her hair as short as a pixie’s.
She is beautiful.
"Blow."
This time you see big bubbles come out of the vuvuzela.
Humungous ones.
My girl has a pair of lungs that can huff and puff.
Just then you see a yellow fish swim into the bubbles and starts dancing.
More like it’s gliding through the bubbles.
But fast.
The fins are so loose; it twirls like ribbon through the bubbles.
The darker orange colour of the fish with the dark, red head makes it look like a red ball with red, orange, yellowish, twirly things.
I cannot describe it.
But it's amazing.
Awesome.
"It's more than you blowing air into the water.
It’s actually the sound of the vuvuzela that’s making the fish dance like that.
Underwater, sounds are clearer.
You'll see if I show you the pool.
I specially installed screens and speakers under water.
It connects with the tank, but the water never mixes.
I’ll show you, if we have time."
Doubt it though.
♪ ♫
Relax.
♫ ♪
"Come.
Come sit beside me again.
I’ll put this all off.”
The screen roles into the roof and the speakers go back into the wall.
The wall is from stone that I bought in Karibib, town towards coast of Namibia. The marble of the floor I got there too. First thought of wooden floors, but thought, instead, the high ceiling should be wood. The dark, black beams in contrast to the dark green floor. The thick, soft, white cream carpet I got from Karasburg, southern town of Namibia. Of the nuns at the Catholic Church, in Lordsville, made it for me. They’re friends of my father's family.
As she enters the room, the light goes brighter and she’s like a fairy, on her tippy toes, beside me on the couch.
As she tippy toes, I remember the day we first met.
She was also tippy toeing.
Umf.
But let me start at the beginning.
On the Tartanbahn.
In Windhoek, Namibia.
The main stadium of the city.
1999
I was in Grade twelve.
It was Zone A.
Inter school athletics
I was there for the 100, 200, and 400 meter dash. High jump and long jump.
That was the last year I ran the 400 meters.
I chose it above the 100 and 200 because you had to run smarter.
Stick to the pack, but still save enough energy to finish the last hundred.
Your lungs start to burn the last two hundred meters.
Or at least mine did.
I enjoyed it.
Made me feel alive.
Now for the last time.
It was fitting that it would be Grade twelve.
It was now eight years... since...
Yes.
Cape Town.
I was in the fourth lane from the pitch.
Bare feet.
The rubber of the track felt funny under my feet.
Rough and hard.
I could not afford stud sneakers like the other guys had.
The guy that looks to see that your fingers are behind the line, just past me.
As I waited for the gun to go off, I closed my eyes.
Oh, Lord.
Be with me.
Protect my mother.
Please forgiv
e me, my Lord.
Protect Georgie too.
Please.
I'm sorry.
Protect her.
Please.
* DWAH! *
It was my first time on the Tartanbahn.
It was much bigger than the track at Kosmos, where I went to school.
My feet hurt.
But I endured the burning pain.
The last hundred meters were in sight.
I was in fifth place.
I still had much left in me.
I could run much longer and even faster, if I wanted to.
But why?
Where to from here?
The athletics was all I had.
After this, there was nothing.
Regionals, yes.
But I mean after school.
I was not Frankie Fredericks, so nothing would come of it.
Why not just end it all now.
I've ran long enough.
Eight years.
The skeletons were skeletons.
Buried.
In shallow graves.
Near the Baxter theatre.
Rondebosch, Cape Town.
Eaten by worms.
Not even in coffins.
Just the dirt and worms.
Maybe a mole ate the toes and fingers like hotdogs.
Gone.
Forgotten.
I could spend more time on English and Maths.
It was now differentiation and integration.
Calculus crap.
Much worse than twelve times twelve.
Luckily I was English second language and standard level.
No Cambridge Higher Level British nonsense.
Maybe I could pay more attention to my senior project.
Could sleep more.
The after-school practice was a nightmare.
I wasn’t in the mood for that any longer.
In those last hundred meters my whole life flashed in front of my eyes.
His face.
The red.
Just the red.
The golf club.
Mommy.
Anubis.
The leather pouch.
Darn.
The leather pouch.
Him.
I trembled.
I felt the adrenaline pump in my blood.
I took a deep breath in.
Stepped harder and firmer into the track.
I was alive.
Why not?
It was all in the past.
Now it was just me and the track.
Why not do it for her.
For Anubis.
Barnard De Wet trained long and hard with me.
Why not give it back.
I moved forward faster.
Eighty meters left.
I was right next to the Chinese from HTS.
He was really running on just fumes.
He ran thick spectacles and all.
Sorry, mate.
Eat more tofu.
I was now in third place.
WHS and Academia was ahead of me.
These Boers had a lot of heart in them.
But I was soon past Academia.
Just behind WHS.
There was just about fifty meters left.
I heard someone cheering.
Keep going! Keep going!
Whether it was meant for me, didn’t really matter.
It prompted me.
Thirty meters left.
I was right next to WHS.
I realized the guy was cheering for WHS.
I’ll show him.
I gave my all.
Only fifteen meters.
Ten.
Five.
Three.
No stopping WHS.
No stopping me.
Sherwynne, I love you.
Sherwynne, I do.
Not again.
We crossed the line together.
There was no stopping me.
I ran about thirty meters further.
Could not say who won.
WHS was lying on the side of the pitch groaning.
The lactic acid must be eating him badly.
He was on his last before the last ten meters.
His timekeeper was talking to him.
Mine came running over to me.
Skirt high, as she tippy toed, closer.
Her legs were long.
She was tall.
"Not too bad."
Her voice was high, but not unpleasant.
Blonde.
More white hair.
Almost like mine.
Her eyes were dark.
Brown.
But you could say black.
Her breasts were...
Oh, boy.
Hair in braids.
One on each side of her head.
Pippi Longstocking.
She was beautiful.
"Tha... thank you."
I have never spoken to a Boer girl before.
"I still say you've won."
Her doe eyes were fluttering.
Freckles along her neck.
But not in her face.
Her skin was white.
White powder.
"Got that right.”
I was full of it.
“Full of yourself, Mr Sexy legs."
These sticks?
Iron.
Sexy?
Bulls.
Are you having a drink with Barnard De Wet in the stands, perhaps?
"Don’t look like you don’t know what I'm talking about."
Her eyes never leave mine.
What was wrong with this girl?
Carrying on like this.
In public, no less.
I just walked past her.
She watched me for a while as I walked away.
"Woo-hoo! Sexy, sexy, sexy!"
I was sure everyone could hear her.
I walked faster.
"Don’t you even want to know what your time was?"
Faster.
"Hey, Mr Sexy legs."
She teased.
I turned.
"44.8 seconds. Wicked fast. Definitely a new record."
She sounded very excited.
"Don’t think so," I said almost like I didn’t care.
But I did.
New record.
My last 400 meters.
Would be great.
I turned and walked again.
"Hey. What’s your name?"
She wanted to know.
"Sherwin," I said over my shoulder and kept walking.
Soon I was lost in the crowd by the stands.
She could not keep up.
Thank you, Lord.
♪ ♫
Relax.
♫ ♪
vii
She can’t stop staring at the cushion.
Quite mesmerized.
Can I take it that she likes it?
Guess so.
I'm pleased.
Oh, boy.
Uhm.
Now or never.
Sherwynne, I love you.
Sherwynne, I do.
“There's something I must tell you.
Hey.
Look at me…
Nia.”
She slowly raises her head and looks at me.
Right foot on the couch and left on the floor.
Head on her right knee.
Her expression questioning.
"I told you I have something to show you.
A secret I want to share with you.
No.
Must share with you."
Her expression now more curious.
Her eyes were never more beautiful.
"Where we’re going...
Your kingdom.
My heart.
It’s... "
Oh, Lord.
Help me.
Deep breath.
In.
Her eyes never leave mine.
/>
She’s wearing her green dress.
I liked it on her.
And out.
In.
The white-blonde hair, short on her head.
Those doe eyes.
Angel face.
As if she was a flower.
The green dress a stem.
And out.
"It... it's not safe to be there.
Not now.
It’s... dangerous.
It’s on…"
Fire.
"Everything..."
Screams.
"But there is no other way.
I'm sorry."
She looks confused.
"We do not have much time, so listen.
Please.
You must remember all that I am about to tell you.
It is of the utmost importance."
She starts smiling.
I must not be getting through to her.
Or she thinks I'm a drama queen, again.
"Nia.
Marnia.
I'm serious."
She stops smiling.
Looks more like she wants to know what's going on.
"You can’t stay in that dress.
Pants will be better.
We will have to move fast.
Be quick."
Run.
"There are...
Things."
I do not know how to describe them.
“I’ve never really seen them well.
I know it's not something good.
You must stay with me.
You hear.
Listen to me.
It is of utmost importance.
Hold my hand if you must.
If you can get yourself to hold a... Coloured’s... hand. "
I can’t believe I said that out loud.
But this was not then.
When I was madly in love.
It’s now 2010.
Only three months shy of September.
Almost two years.
After that one perfect night.
A prison.
Trapped.
I am not even sure whether you can hear me.
The dream continues.
Soon I’ll have to strut my stuff.
Get my swag on.
To Mika.
Love today.
When she wants to hear it a second time.
Played a few minutes back.
The uplifting CD never stops.
That night, she wanted me to give her a show.
I did too.
I would do anything for her.
Make a fool of myself if I had to.
Umf.
"Just stay with me.
And, I repeat.
Listen only to me.
They are conniving.
Listen only to me.
Would have preferred to show you under better circumstances."
But... alas.
"Why do it now?"
Yes expression on her face.
"Only woke up now.
Only now, do I realize what’s been happening.
The dreams.
The eyes.
Oh.
The red eyes.
The lost time.
The train tracks that keep luring me.
It’s.
It… is.
Him.
He's back.
As if he never left."
Damnit.
Wish I could find the words.
Darn.
Words are at a loss.
Oh, Lord.
"He is..."
Furious.
"Outraged.”
Why?
“Because I messed up his plan.
Because.
I took it.
More like, lost it."
What?
"The black leather pouch."
♪ ♫
Relax.
♫ ♪
I went to the bathroom for a while.
Watched myself in the mirror.
Sherwynne, I love you.
Sherwynne, I do.
I was scared.
I wasn’t sure what I was letting myself in for.
Uhm uhm uhm.
Bond.
James Bond.
*Wooooooooooof!*
James Bond's @rse.
I am not a spy.
Nor am I a hero.
Look at this flat chest.