Philida (29 page)

At the back of the house she goes to Labyn’s workroom. He’s busy with his wood. Today, as so often in recent weeks, it is a coffin. Smooth pale panels, with fine stinkwood struts in between. Too beautiful, really, to be buried in the earth.

He glances up and goes on with his work.

Who was that man? he asks when she says nothing.

He used to be my Baas, says Philida. It’s he who bring me to the auction.

There’s many people who churn up a lot of dust these days coming after you.

They want me to go back.

And?

I’m staying right here. This is my place now.

What did he say about that?

Said I must move back to live with Christian people.

Labyn sniffs, but says nothing.

I tell him I’m with the Slamse people now. That’s what I decided. I want you to tell Al-lah that when you see him again.

Inshallah
, says Labyn and goes on smoothing one of the darker struts between the pale panels.

Another silence. At the best of times Labyn doesn’t say much.

Now you got to help me, says Philida. I want to know more about this Islam of yours. I want to know what I’m doing here with you.

He gives a crooked smile, but she can see his eyes shining. I shall tell you everything I know, he promises. The Koran says,
Some of us are Muslims and some are wrongdoers. Those that embraced Islam pursue the right path; but those that do wrong shall become the fuel of hell
.

And as always, these first words open the roads to more. It is as if the smooth dark wood in his hands brings to life something inside him. He says:
Consider the water which you drink. Was it you that poured it from the cloud or we? If We pleased We could have turned it bitter. Why then do you not give thanks?
Always remember this, Philida:
Indeed, Al-lah does not need you, but you need him. If you give no heed, he will replace you by others different from you
. Whatever happens, remember what I tell you:
Your God is one God. There is no God but him. He is the Compassionate, the Merciful
.

And then he says: If you wish, we can start with your lessons again tonight.

XXIII

In which two more Visits to the de la Bats in Worcester are narrated, both of which will have long-term Consequences for Everybody involved

AROUND THE TIME
of that unexpected visit two more visitors turn up at the de la Bats’ home in the Church Street in Worcester. On both occasions the visitors come to stay. The first, quite out of the blue, only a few days after Francois Brink rode off, is Kleinkat.

She looks a bit dishevelled, somewhat rough at the edges, rather thin and clearly hungry, but her paws do not look worn. Because this occurs quite soon after Francois’s departure, the de la Bats come to the conclusion that the cat must have run away very soon after she’d left Worcester. Philida, who has had a very good look at her and discovered that her face around the mouth looks chafed and bloody, concludes that she must have struggled pretty fiercely to get out of the bamboo cage and most probably chewed her way through the thin slats. But she was not badly hurt. The only thing that rather surprises Philida, even though it is also cause for relief, is that she hasn’t chosen to escape to Zandvliet like the previous time, but decided to take the short cut to Worcester. Presumably Kleinkat has decided, after all her tribulations, that her real home is with Philida after all. And the slave woman welcomes the cat like a prodigal child from the Bible. She caresses her behind the ears and smells her feet and rubs her cheeks
against
the little pointed face and kisses her on the nose. And Kleinkat chirrups like a bird and quietly revels in Philida’s caresses as if her whole small life has briefly become concentrated on this moment of warmth and safety and pure bliss.

Philida has a bad fright on the day Cornelis comes to visit, for her first thought is that he has come to claim the cat again. But she quickly realises that something so ordinary would never have upset the old man so much. Even so, as a precaution she locks up the cat in the room she shares with Delphina and keeps her there for a few days. But she soon finds that there is no need to get so upset, and from then on she does not worry about Kleinkat any more, and she and Delphina, and the children, become inseparable from the cat.

The second visitor is of an entirely different kind. His name is Floris and it turns out that he is a slave who previously belonged to Meester de la Bat, a man of forty or thereabouts, who absconded from Worcester about a year before and, when he couldn’t be found again, was completely written off by the de la Bat family. He has now unexpectedly decided to come back of his own accord.

It is late on a Wednesday afternoon, when the sun is already sinking, that he turns up at the back gate to the property, a greyish man covered by what seems like weeks of dust, wearing a cap of dassie skins with a sprig of rosemary on top, a long buttonless shirt and a chameleon on his right shoulder. He is clearly exhausted and grey with hunger, yet there is an irrepressible spring in his step. When Delphina comes from the back door to offer him a bowl of water, he starts gulping it down like a horse. Afterwards he goes into the kitchen uninvited – which makes Philida realise
that
he is familiar with the place, that he belongs there – and dunks his whole head into the washing barrel, keeping it under water for so long that Philida begins to fear that he may never come up for air again, then shakes off the excess water like a frisky dog with an exuberant shout: Yooohooo!

The noise attracts the two bull mastiffs from the
voorhuis
, and they tumble over each other to get to him first, and for a moment Philida, not knowing how they will react to a stranger, fears that they may tear him to shreds right there.

Labyn! she shouts. Here’s trouble! Come and help!

Labyn jumps up from his workbench where he is putting together a delicate table standing like a small steenbok on tall thin legs. But to Philida’s amazement he gives a broad grin, like a rising sun. She sees the two large dogs charging towards the visitor in a tumult of barking and taking a flying leap at him. Instinctively she closes her eyes. But when she dares to look again, she sees the stranger on his knees, exuberantly fondling the dogs as they both dance around him to lick his face from all sides.

Just then Meester de la Bat makes his appearance like a large black bat with folded wings.

He stops on the threshold. Floris …? he asks.

Meester, he says, here I am. I been walking all over the place and now I got home again. You can go and fetch the
riem
and give me a proper hiding because I got a lot to talk about. But we can only talk after you beat the shit out of me.

This leads to a long discussion, as Meester de la Bat is thrown quite off balance by Floris’s return, but the runaway insists he can only talk after all the formalities have been complied with – and that will only be possible once he has
had
his prescribed punishment. In the past this used to be completely in the hands of the Baas, but ever since the English took over there has been a rule and a regulation for every damn thing.

We can talk about it tomorrow, says Meester de la Bat.

If it’s all the same to Meester, I’d rather get it over and done with straight away, says Floris, meek but adamant.

All right, then come with me, says de la Bat with a sigh. I don’t like it but the law is the law.

Is what I also say, Floris agrees.

They go round the house in the direction of Labyn’s workroom at the back, followed by the others. Labyn and Floris move the heavy workbench into the backyard. Only now does Philida realise that the workbench is also the flogging bench and that all the brown stains on the surface must be old blood. Low down on each of the massive legs are rusty iron rings to which Meester de la Bat and Labyn are now preparing to attach Floris with thongs from the stable.

Lie down, orders Meester de la Bat. Floris removes the chameleon from his right shoulder, and stands looking around him for a moment.

You come and take this, he tells Philida. Will you keep him for me?

Won’t the thing bite? she asks hesitantly.

No, he’s used to people, man. Just hold him gently so that you don’t scare him.

She gingerly takes the chameleon from him, still not quite reassured. So far, she has cautiously kept away from the little creature because of Ouma Nella’s persistent warnings over the years: You better watch your step with this thing, my child, he brings death with him.

Philida stands a few steps aside. Lena approaches with
great
caution to see better, but keeps ready to scamper off as the chameleon turns his big eyes in her direction.

Delphina helps Floris to take off his long loose shirt. Then the breeches that reach down to his knees. His entire back and lean buttocks bear the dark criss-cross marks of old floggings. It is clearly not the first time Floris has had a run-in with the law. He tries to find a comfortable position on the flogging bench, on his stomach, letting his arms hang down the sides of the heavy bench. Meester de la Bat goes down on his heels to attach the wrists to the rings on the side. As he struggles laboriously his pale face flushes a deep red from the effort. Once he is satisfied that the arms are firmly attached, Meester de la Bat gets up again to take the two remaining thongs from Labyn. Floris’s thin ankles barely reach the foot end of the bench.

Help me, orders the Meester as he passes one thong up to Labyn while he pulls the second one tight around Floris’s left ankle, closest to him. Now tie it properly, he orders.

But Labyn turns out to be very reluctant. He makes no attempt to come closer and take the thong.

Meester de la Bat looks at him with a frown. What’s up with you now? he asks irritably.

I am sorry, Meester, Labyn says with tight lips. But I cannot help you with this thing. Floris and I come a long way together. He is my friend and I am his.

And if I order you to beat him?

Labyn shakes his head. Then I shall have to say no to the Meester. That is not my work.

You are a slave, Labyn. You will do what I tell you to do.

Not if Meester asks me to beat him.

Labyn?!

I think it is against the law nowadays, Labyn says quietly.

In this place
I
am the law, says the Meester through his teeth. You are a slave like Floris.

In a month, in a few months, we shall both be free.

Until that time you will do what I say.

I am sorry, Meester, Labyn says very calmly. I told you: not if you ask me to beat him.

Floris ran away, the Meester says curtly. A year ago he absconded from Worcester. The law is very strict about desertion.

He came back of his own free will.

He stayed away for a full year.

That doesn’t make a difference. Now he is here.

Do as I tell you, Labyn!

Al-lah will hear about this, says Labyn, more to himself than to the Meester, and very calmly and politely.

What do you say?

I’m just saying about Al-lah, Meester. He sees everything and he knows everything and he will not like this.

I have the LordGod on my side! shouts Meester de la Bat, more furiously than anyone has ever heard him. Some of the children who are watching from a distance with wide eyes, start crying.

Then bring your LordGod, Meester, says Labyn. I shall call Al-lah. They can fight it out. In his quiet way Labyn adds, He is the God of all the slaves and all the oppressed people in this land, so I already know who will win.

Now you are looking for trouble! snarls the Meester.

Conceived and born in sin, Meester, says Labyn. Made like that and left like that. All of us, Baas and slave.

Meester de la Bat mumbles something, but no one can make out what it is. After a moment he marches back to the house in a military manner. But at the back door he
looks
round: You can lie and wait here, he tells Floris. I shall come back when it suits me. He firmly pulls the door to after him.

For some time no one says a word. It is as if they’re all waiting for him to come back, but the door remains closed.

I think we got a long night ahead, Delphina says at last.

Then why don’t we just sit and make ourselves comfortable? asks Labyn.

What do I do with the chameleon? asks Philida.

Just keep him with you, says Floris from the flogging bench without turning his head. Find a place to sit so long.

Now it is in Al-lah’s hands, Labyn says, resigned to his fate.

Philida comes to put a hand on Floris’s bare shoulder. Can I bring you some water? I can see you brought a big tiredness with you.

Yes, thank you, he says. That will help.

They make themselves comfortable around the flogging bench.

Delphina was clearly right. It is going to be a long night. As the sun goes down in a big show of red, the huge moon appears in the east, like a cow bladder bleeding against the sky. The air smells of khaki weeds and bruised grass. The first stars appear. The night spreads itself in all directions.