ignored me flat, so I returned the compliment by browsing among the graves and reading the hand-carved inscriptions. There were more High Dutch verses from the Bible than names, with no date anywhere in sight. Some of the oldest stones, judging by their weatherbeaten appearance, bore surnames like Portier, Koen, or Nel; all the others were inscribed with the Lermiet name. One stone was totally blank, except for a large question mark.
From the size of the graves I gathered that children were in the vast majority, some stones bearing as many as five or six names. Then came something unexpected: one headstone, considerably larger and more ornate than the rest, decorated with naive carvings of angels and devils rather indecorously intertwined, was simply marked LUKAS LERMIET, with a second line proclaiming: ZIENER GODS or ‘Seer of God’. But the surprising part was that the grave looked empty, a simple rectangular hole covered with boards. I lifted one and peered inside. It was indeed empty. This sent me to a bent old man raking gravel on a grave.
“Excuse me, but could you possibly tell me something about Seer Lermiet’s grave over there?”
“I’m busy,” he muttered without looking up.
Windblown Black Stork
Frustrated, I beat a retreat. Past the little house where Ouma Liesbet Prune was perched on the roof, as always, like a windblown black stork.
“Good morning, Tante.”
“Satan, be gone. I’m waiting upon the Lord.”
Lewdness of Thy Youth
On to Brother Holy, striding stiff-legged like a secretary bird along his rows of withered cabbages, hands behind his back, perorating at the top of his voice.
“Good morning, Brother, and how are you this fine morning?”
“Terrible, terrible. It’s a weary life on this wretched earth.”
“Lovely weather we’re having.”
“We’ll pay for it, don’t worry.”
“Big vegetable patch, this.”
“But dry.”
“The cabbages seem, to be doing well.”
“A good harvest ruins the soil,” he commented morosely. Then, without warning, he intoned, “The word of the Lord came again to me saying: Thus saith the Lord God, Thou hast defiled thy sanctuaries by the multitude of thine iniquities; therefore will I bring forth a fire from the midst of thee, it shall devour thee, and I will bring thee to ashes upon the earth in the sight of all them that behold thee. All they that know thee among the people shall be astonished at thee: thou shall be a terror, and never shalt thou be any more.” Under the onslaught the cabbages were wilting visibly.
“Cigarette?” I proffered.
“A sin, Neef, a venal sin.” He glanced round quickly to make sure there was nobody near. “But if you insist.” He hastily thrust it into his inside pocket, preparing in a spray of spittle to lunge into the next passage: “Thus thou callest to remembrance the lewdness of thy youth, in bruising thy teats by the Egyptians for the paps of thy youth.” The cabbages began to look up again, but he suddenly interrupted his sermon to ask, “Did you know we had a man here who travelled through the whole world, including Egypt and the Great Karoo? And he brought back wondrous things from far places.” I thought it was merely his way of speaking. Only much later did I discover how literally he’d meant it. At any rate he gave me no opening to put any questions, as without pausing for breath he broke into a new tirade on paramours whose flesh is as the flesh of asses, and whose issue is like the issue of horses. By that time I was already out of reach both of his showers of blessings and his lecherous imprecations.
Milk
In the main doorway of the church, propped up against the massive doorpost, legs languidly outstretched, I found Bettie Teat with her brood, looking for all the world like a complacent pink sow with a litter of piglets. God knows how many of them there were, as they were squirming and wriggling and climbing all over her, squealing and shrilling and grunting as they jostled
From the size of the graves I gathered that children were in the vast majority, some stones bearing as many as five or six names. Then came something unexpected: one headstone, considerably larger and more ornate than the rest, decorated with naive carvings of angels and devils rather indecorously intertwined, was simply marked LUKAS LERMIET, with a second line proclaiming: ZIENER GODS or ‘Seer of God’. But the surprising part was that the grave looked empty, a simple rectangular hole covered with boards. I lifted one and peered inside. It was indeed empty. This sent me to a bent old man raking gravel on a grave.
“Excuse me, but could you possibly tell me something about Seer Lermiet’s grave over there?”
“I’m busy,” he muttered without looking up.
Windblown Black Stork
Frustrated, I beat a retreat. Past the little house where Ouma Liesbet Prune was perched on the roof, as always, like a windblown black stork.
“Good morning, Tante.”
“Satan, be gone. I’m waiting upon the Lord.”
Lewdness of Thy Youth
On to Brother Holy, striding stiff-legged like a secretary bird along his rows of withered cabbages, hands behind his back, perorating at the top of his voice.
“Good morning, Brother, and how are you this fine morning?”
“Terrible, terrible. It’s a weary life on this wretched earth.”
“Lovely weather we’re having.”
“We’ll pay for it, don’t worry.”
“Big vegetable patch, this.”
“But dry.”
“The cabbages seem, to be doing well.”
“A good harvest ruins the soil,” he commented morosely. Then, without warning, he intoned, “The word of the Lord came again to me saying: Thus saith the Lord God, Thou hast defiled thy sanctuaries by the multitude of thine iniquities; therefore will I bring forth a fire from the midst of thee, it shall devour thee, and I will bring thee to ashes upon the earth in the sight of all them that behold thee. All they that know thee among the people shall be astonished at thee: thou shall be a terror, and never shalt thou be any more.” Under the onslaught the cabbages were wilting visibly.
“Cigarette?” I proffered.
“A sin, Neef, a venal sin.” He glanced round quickly to make sure there was nobody near. “But if you insist.” He hastily thrust it into his inside pocket, preparing in a spray of spittle to lunge into the next passage: “Thus thou callest to remembrance the lewdness of thy youth, in bruising thy teats by the Egyptians for the paps of thy youth.” The cabbages began to look up again, but he suddenly interrupted his sermon to ask, “Did you know we had a man here who travelled through the whole world, including Egypt and the Great Karoo? And he brought back wondrous things from far places.” I thought it was merely his way of speaking. Only much later did I discover how literally he’d meant it. At any rate he gave me no opening to put any questions, as without pausing for breath he broke into a new tirade on paramours whose flesh is as the flesh of asses, and whose issue is like the issue of horses. By that time I was already out of reach both of his showers of blessings and his lecherous imprecations.
Milk
In the main doorway of the church, propped up against the massive doorpost, legs languidly outstretched, I found Bettie Teat with her brood, looking for all the world like a complacent pink sow with a litter of piglets. God knows how many of them there were, as they were squirming and wriggling and climbing all over her, squealing and shrilling and grunting as they jostled
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