CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The sun was getting low on the horizon now, showing off the soft curves of the hills. There were big smudges of cloud, preparing for a colourful sunset. The kudu was standing next to Ousies again; they both looked into the fire.

I opened my mouth; I thought I was going to talk about the kudu that I kept seeing, but instead I found myself saying, ‘It’s the taste of him in my mouth. His face is so close, his breath ugly and sour, like a rotten potato. And then the weight of him on my body . . .’ I felt nauseous just talking about it. ‘He is on me . . . inside me and I want him out. I want to vomit. It’s the taste of him I want to throw up. But also the taste of my own shame.’

I didn’t want to see the faces of the people around me. I was afraid I would see disgust. Or pity. I looked down at my lap, where I was clutching my Tupperware of cheesecake. I needed cheesecake; I wanted its lemony sweet flavour and smooth texture in my mouth.

‘Shall we have some cheesecake now?’ I said, looking at Ricus.

His expression was not disgust or pity. It was a kind look that made me want to cry. He gestured to Ousies, who came and took the Tupperware from me and opened it. The kudu had disappeared again. Ousies had some napkins in her hand; she offered one to me along with a piece of cheesecake. It seemed rude to take my own food first, and I gestured towards Fatima. Ousies gave her some cheesecake, then offered it to me again. This time I took a piece. I closed my eyes as I ate. The texture was now perfect. My mouth did not have to do any work. The cheesecake ate itself. It slid down my throat and filled my belly with a sweet yellow happiness.

‘Jirre, this cake is amazing,’ said Dirk.

There were sounds of agreement from everyone, and I looked at them. They all had warm faces, shining at me. I felt like a flower in the sun.

Ricus asked, ‘Do you feel that your delicious food helps to chase away the bad taste inside you?’

‘Ja,’ I said, ‘that’s what it does. I made Henk’s Favourite, my version of Japie se Gunsteling, and last time I had one of those awake nightmares, it really helped.’

‘Japie se Gunsteling,’ echoed Dirk, like it was a prayer.

The clouds were a soft apricot-pink. These people accepted me, even after they’d heard such bad things. Not the worst I had to tell, but still, things I’d never told anyone else. The ring of panel vans seemed like a herd of buffalos, protecting me.

Behind me, Ousies was sweeping. She swept in a circle; when she got to the entrance path, she twisted and flicked her broom as if she was sweeping something out. And as she did this, I felt a weight lifting off me, off my shoulders. I heard the flapping of wings, and I saw the goshawk flying away, towards the sinking sun.

‘Let’s have supper,’ said Ricus.

Ousies and Fatima served us the most delicious spicy Somalian dish of lamb’s liver and rice. The liver was cut into thin strips and the food was full of delicate flavours, like saffron and coriander. The basmati rice had peas in it, and some of the spices that I’d tasted in the tea: cinnamon and nutmeg. Lemoni offered to make moussaka for our next meeting, and I said I’d bring pudding again.

When we’d finished eating, Ricus and Ousies cleared up. The sky changed from blue to turquoise, and the clouds were streaked with gold and rust.

Dirk let out a big sigh, as if he was about to speak. But then there was the sound of bleating and animal hooves. Lemoni jumped but stayed in her seat. A flock of about twenty sheep wandered into the laager.

‘Hey,’ said Ricus, waving his hands about. ‘Voetsek.’

Johannes scrambled out from under his panel van and tried to shoo them out, but most of them ignored him. One was sniffing at my shoe with its white woolly snout; it reminded me of Kosie, although it was a bit bigger, its horns starting to curl.

‘Where’s Mielie?’ Ricus said, then whistled a long high note.

Johannes looked around and shrugged, then carried on trying to chase out the sheep. But they came back in between the panel vans.

Ricus whistled again. After a while, a sheepdog appeared and stood in front of him, looking a bit sheepish.

‘Mielie! You been chasing rabbits again? Take the sheep to their kraal. Gou-gou.’ Quickly.

In two minutes, the sheepdog cleared the laager. The clouds were a burnt red now. I heard some birds saying goodnight to each other.

‘We were like sheep to the slaghuis,’ said Dirk. ‘Ja, like sheep we went, but it was worse. Because we also had to do the slaughter. We had to kill each other.’

He shook his head and looked down at his hands. Then he pushed them away from him, like he didn’t want to see them. Ousies was now behind him, moving quietly with her broom.

‘It was in Angola. In Cuito. Fok. I know what you mean about smells and sounds. Dust. Blood. Gunpowder. Grenades. Thirty years later, I can still smell that shit.’ He pulled his hands onto his belly. ‘But it’s the feeling in my body that’s most crap, that stays with me. To start with, we were all wired; we were amped to kill the terrorists. But then, after a while, there was just so much killing. Our men and theirs. Lots of my mates died. I shat myself; I wanted to stop, but I kept on going. Then we were ordered to retreat. I thought it would be okay then. But it was too late.’

He looked up at the sky, and I followed his gaze to the big torn clouds that were now stained a deep red. The Rooiberg was bright red too, and the Swartberge a crushed purple colour. Dirk shook his head. His hands were tight fists on his thighs.

‘You said you had a feeling in your body?’ said Ricus. ‘That stayed with you?’

Dirk brought his fists to his belly.

‘Ja, it is hard to describe; it’s like a moerse big anger that sits just here. Like a wild ratel that wants to fuck you up. Not the armoured cars we were in that were called “ratels”. But one of those little crazy guys, you know, badgers. A wild ratel that just wants to jump up and moer you, fuck you up. But it’s like the ratel’s teeth and claws have been pulled out. I don’t know, it’s hard to describe.’

‘It sounds like you feel very angry and also powerless,’ said Ricus.

‘Ja, that’s it. Those bastards made us kill each other, and we let them. There was nothing I could do. And now it’s over, and there’s still nothing I can do.’

‘You could forgive yourself,’ said Ricus.

‘Nee. Fok that, I’m a bastard too. It would’ve been better if I died out there.’

The sky was red all around us. Ousies was flicking the broom away again and again. The sky got redder still.

‘Forgive yourself, Dirk.’

‘No,’ he said. ‘Fok, nee.’