Mine Boy: 'One of my all-time favourite novels' (Tsitsi Dangarembga)

  MINE BOY

  Peter Abrahams

  This book is for ‘Dusty’

  But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor

  Breed nor Birth,

  When two strong men stand face to face,

  Though they come from the ends of the earth!

  kipling

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  About the Author

  Also by Peter Abrahams

  Copyright

  MINE BOY

  ONE

  Somewhere in the distance a clock chimed. The big man listened. One … Two … Three … Three o’clock in the morning.

  He shifted the little bundle from his right hand to his left, hitched up his pants, and continued up the narrow street. A dark narrow street full of shadows, he thought. But then this whole Malay Camp is full of shadows.

  I wonder where I am, he thought. He had lost all sense of direction. Still, one street was as good as another …

  And then he saw the woman at the gate. He would have passed without seeing her, for she was a part of the shadowy gate, but she had coughed and moved. He went closer.

  ‘Sister, do you know a place where a man can rest and maybe have a drink?’ His voice was deep and husky.

  ‘It is late,’ the woman replied.

  ‘It is very late,’ the man said.

  ‘Make a light for me to see you,’ the woman said.

  ‘I have no matches.’

  ‘What have you?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘And you want to rest and drink when it is so late?’

  The man inclined his head, but the woman could not see it in the dark.

  ‘Have you money?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Huh. You’re a queer one. What are you called? Are you new here?’

  ‘Xuma. I come from the north.’

  ‘Well, Xuma from the north, stay here and I will be back with a light. Maybe you can have a rest and drink and maybe you cannot. But stay here.’

  He saw the shadow move but heard no sound. He peered into the darkness of the gate. There was nothing but a wall of blackness to see. He shifted the little bundle from his left hand to his right and waited.

  His legs ached with tiredness. There was a throbbing in his head that flowed from the emptiness of his stomach. His tongue felt thick with want of a smoke and drink.

  Maybe, he thought – but would not allow his thoughts to go any further. Only a fool would break a door when someone had agreed to open it.

  ‘Well, Xuma from the north, I am going to put the light on you. I warn you for your eyes. It is sharp.’

  She had returned without him noticing. Like a shadow, he thought, and smiled to himself. And she has the voice of a strong person, he told himself.

  ‘Put on the light,’ he said.

  The beam of a powerful torch struck his waist and lingered there for a moment, then swept down to his feet. From his feet it moved up inch by inch taking in the whole picture of him.

  It started with the big, old tennis shoes that were kept together by bits of string and wire, and saw the toes peeping out in spite of the string and wire; moved up the dusty, colourless old trousers that were ripped at both knees and looked as though they would burst at the waist because they were so tight; up the immense chest and huge shoulders against which the equally tight and tattered shirt seemed to cling fearfully; it lingered on the broad, good-natured face for a brief moment; then it shifted to the right hand with its bundle and then the empty left hand. Then the torch snapped out and Xuma waited in the darkness.

  ‘All right,’ the woman said finally. ‘You can have your rest and drink, Xuma from the north. Come.’

  Xuma paused in the dark. The woman laughed in a deep rich voice.

  ‘So big and strong and you are afraid!’

  ‘It is dark, woman.’

  Again the beam of light sprang into being, but this time it remained on the ground a few yards away from him.

  ‘Come,’ the woman repeated.

  Xuma followed the beam of light.

  ‘Here,’ the woman said and pushed open a door. ‘Come in.’ Xuma followed her into the room. She shut the door and led the way to another room. This had a light and three men and an old woman sat at a table with a huge can of beer in front of them.

  ‘This is Xuma from the north,’ the woman said. ‘He is tired and hungry. Give him food, Ma Plank … Sit down, Xuma.’

  Xuma looked at the woman. She was tall and big, with that smooth yellowness of the Basuto women, and she had sharp dark eyes. A strong woman, he decided, and those eyes can see right through a man.

  ‘What do they call you?’ he asked.

  The woman smiled and he noticed that only one side of her face moved. The left side.

  ‘Leah,’ the woman said.

  ‘What is it to you what she is called?’ one of the men demanded. Xuma looked at the man. He was tall and thin and the youngest in the room. His mouth was twisted viciously and he glared at Xuma.

  ‘Who is he?’ Xuma asked the woman.

  ‘That one is Dladla. He thinks he is a strong man and he plays with a knife, but he’s a puppy.’

  ‘Ho! And the mistress took the puppy to bed!’ the eldest man at the table said and burst out in a cackling laugh.

  Leah smiled. ‘Yes, Daddy, why shouldn’t the puppy please the mistress!’

  Daddy’s cackle increased. His sides shook. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he gasped for breath.

  Dladla struck out suddenly. His fist caught Daddy on the side of the head and sent him flying into a corner. Xuma stepped forward and saw the knife in Dladla’s hand.

  Carefully Xuma placed his bundle on the table and circled round the long bench. Dladla raised the knife and showed his teeth. Each watched the other. A hush fell on the room. Daddy forgot that the side of his head hurt and gaped with open mouth and dancing eyes at this sudden prospect of a fight.

  Ma Plank, coming into the room with the food Leah had ordered her to get for Xuma, opened her mouth, shut it again, and went back to the kitchen.

  ‘Give me that knife!’ Leah commanded.

  Dladla looked at her, then at Xuma, then back at her.

  ‘No,’ he said but there was a plea in his voice.

  ‘Give!’ Leah said, and this time her voice was hard. Dladla lowered his eyes and gave her the knife.

  ‘Sit down! Both of you.’

  ‘Women!’ said Daddy bitterly from his corner and spat. ‘They always spoil a good fight.’

  ‘Ma Plank! Bring the food,’ Leah called.

  ‘Is the fight over?’ Ma Plank asked without showing her face.

  ‘There’s another.’ Daddy said and spat again. Then he leaned back against the wall and went to sleep.

  ‘Eat,’ Leah said when the old woman had put the food in front of Xuma.

  Xuma looked at her and began to eat.

  ‘You have fixed the holes properly?’ Leah asked, looking at each of the others in turn.

  In turn they nodded. She looked at Daddy’s open mouth and smiled from the side of her face. ‘And his?’

  Ma Plank nodded.

  ‘Then you ca
n go to sleep,’ Leah said.

  Dladla and Ma Plank went out. Only the man who had been silent throughout remained. He looked at Leah then at Xuma.

  ‘What is it?’ Leah asked him.

  ‘How do we know he’s not from the police?’ the man asked.

  ‘I know,’ Leah replied and her whole face creased in a smile.

  The man nodded, then suddenly he held out his hand to Xuma. Xuma shook it. The man went out.

  ‘Who is he?’ Xuma asked.

  ‘He is the brother of my man,’ Leah replied.

  ‘Your man?’

  ‘Yes.’ Her eyes softened. A half-smile played round her lips. And as Xuma watched her it seemed that her face had grown weaker. Not so strong any more. And her eyes were not so sharp. They were just the eyes of a woman.

  ‘Yes,’ she repeated softly. ‘My man. He’s in jail. He’s been there for one year, and he must stay there for another two years. He killed a man. A big man with a big mouth who tried to kiss me. He is strong, my man, and he fights for his woman, and he kills for his woman. Not like Dladla who is all mouth and knife and nothing. He’s a man, my man. You are a man yourself, Xuma, you are strong. But my man can break you like a stick! I don’t lie, you can ask people …’

  She stopped speaking. The softness faded from her face and the old hardness returned. She looked at Xuma and smiled out of the side of her face.

  From the corner came the sound of Daddy’s snoring.

  ‘And Dladla, what is he to you?’

  She laughed a deep-throated laugh. ‘A woman gets lonely for a plaything, that’s all … Now you, Xuma, what are you going to do?’

  ‘I came for work. There is no work where I come from. And here, they say, there is much work.’

  ‘Where will you work?’

  ‘In the mines. It is a man’s work.’

  Leah shook her head and poured herself a drink.

  ‘The mines are no good, Xuma, later on you cough and then you spit blood and you become weak and die. I have seen it many times. Today you are young and you are strong, and tomorrow you are thin and ready to die.’

  ‘All work is like that.’

  ‘No … Listen Xuma, I like you, I can make you powerful. I am powerful here. If you become my head-man you will be powerful too. When you came and found me outside I was watching for the police. These others were burying beer in the ground. There is much money in it. Maybe you can work for me, heh?’

  For a long while they looked at each other, then Leah smiled her full smile and shook her head.

  ‘No … Well, you are a man with the dumbness of a man … Come, I will show you where you can sleep.’

  ‘I have no money,’ Xuma said.

  ‘No. But you are strong and you will work and pay me later, heh?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And maybe I will need a strong man sometimes and you will help.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Here,’ Leah said, going into a little room, ‘this is where the teacher lives but she will not come till day after tomorrow so you can sleep here. When she comes we will think of something else.’ She struck a match and lit the candle. She went to the door. ‘And listen to me Xuma from the north, don’t think because I do this I am soft or easy and you can cheat me, because if you do, I will cut you up so that your own mother will not want you …’

  Xuma laughed. ‘You are a strange woman. I don’t understand you. The only thing I can understand is your kindness.’

  ‘You’re all right,’ she said softly. ‘But the city is a strange place. Good night.’

  She went out and shut the door.

  Slowly Xuma undressed. He felt better now that he had eaten, but he was very tired. Yet he found it hard to sleep when he got into bed.

  A strange group of people, these, he thought. Nothing tied them down. They seem to believe in nothing. But well, they had given him a bed. She had given it to him. She who was the strangest of them all. And in the other room the old one they call Daddy was sleeping against a wall with an open mouth and with nothing to cover him. But life is strange. Yes, and these people are life … Of course …

  TWO

  The sun was high when Xuma woke. He lay still for a while and listened. But there was no sound from anywhere in the house.

  ‘I must get up,’ he sighed, and nestled back among the blankets. And then he remembered he was in the house of strangers and pushed back the blankets. They must not come in now, he thought, as he stood with only his shirt on. Quickly he dressed. There was not much to do. Only to slip on his pants.

  He opened the door and stood listening. Somewhere in the house an alarm clock ticked. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock … But that was all.

  ‘Good morning!’ he called.

  No one responded.

  ‘Good morning!’ he yelled a little louder.

  Still there was only silence.

  ‘Hi!’ he shouted.

  A bee buzzed in through the door and circled over his head. He waved it away but it would not go. It buzzed closer. This fool thing will sting me, he decided, and hurried out of the room shutting the bee in.

  The house was empty. He went through the kitchen into the yard. Then he heard voices. They came from the street. He went to the gate and looked out.

  A crowd of people formed a ring in the street. And in the centre of the ring was old Daddy hopping around and shouting at the top of his voice.

  Daddy’s arms were flying and he jumped from one leg to the other dancing an old war dance and yelling ancient battle cries. Xuma smiled and pushed his way into the crowd.

  On the ground were two coloured women. They were locked in battle. And the crowd was making bets as to who would win. Most of them favoured the thin dark woman who looked like an Indian. Lena they called her. The fat pale one they called Drunk Liz and didn’t seem to like.

  The fat one was on top, sitting on the chest of the little one. But the little one had her by the hair and was pulling. And tears were flowing from the fat one’s eyes and her neck was pulled backward by the straining tug at her long brown hair.

  ‘Pull! Pull them out, Lena!’ Daddy shouted, and rolled into the gutter with excitement.

  The little one pulled. The fat one loosened her grip on the little one’s throat and fell back. As she tumbled over her dress went up and her pale flesh showed.

  Xuma turned his eyes away.

  The crowd roared. Daddy lay cackling in the gutter and kicking his feet in the air. Tears streamed from his eyes.

  When Xuma looked again the little one was on top. And her left hand was on the throat of the fat one and her right hand was behind her back, searching for her shoe. She found it, raised it right above her head, and brought it down on the fat one’s head.

  When she lifted it again blood was flowing from the fat one’s head. Xuma cursed under his breath. Daddy could not contain himself and rubbed his head against the pavement. Again the crowd roared. Xuma pushed his way through the crowd. He wanted to get away from it. He felt a strange heaviness on his heart.

  ‘Stop it!’ The voice carried above the roar of the crowd. Xuma turned and looked. It was Leah. The crowd made a passage for her. Without looking left or right she walked through till she stood over the fighting women. Her eyes blazed. Her arms were bare. She reached down and picked the thin woman up as though she were a child and flung her away from the fat one.

  A few people in the crowd grumbled.

  Leah flung back her head and smiled from the side of her face. Scorn burned in her eyes as they travelled over the crowd.

  ‘I hear voices,’ she said softly. ‘Let me hear them again. I want to know them.’

  She waited. No one spoke.

  ‘Ah, so they are silent. That is good. But if anyone, man or woman, wants to fight or see a fight in front of my house, I am here.’ She beat her chest with her fist. ‘Come and fight me.’

  In silence the crowd broke up and drifted away. Daddy got up and tottered drunkenly on his feet. The pale fat woman sat hold
ing her bleeding head. She was sobbing. A little distance away the thin one leaned against a wall.

  ‘Look! She’s getting the horrors,’ Daddy cackled gleefully, pointing at the thin woman.

  Her mouth had slowly opened and a stream of saliva was trickling down on to her dress. Her body trembled. Her hands knotted into tight fists. Slowly she slid down the side of the wall till she lay stretched on the pavement. Her eyes glazed, and, but for the trembling of her body, she lay like one dead.

  Leah spat in disgust, picked up the thin woman with the horrors and carried her into the yard.

  Xuma and Daddy followed her.

  ‘Bring me a sack,’ Leah said.

  Daddy brought the sack and spread it in the shade. Leah placed the woman on the sack and went to the gate of the yard.

  ‘What are you sitting there for,’ she called gruffly, ‘come in here and wash the blood off that stupid head of yours.’

  The pale, fat woman came in and washed her head under the tap. Leah filled a mug with cold water and went over and dashed it into the face of the woman with the horrors. The woman shivered convulsively, closed her mouth and the trembling grew less.

  ‘Is she very sick?’ Xuma asked, looking at the woman with the horrors.

  Leah shook her head and pulled a mouth. ‘Only one day she will get like that and she will not wake up any more. She’s a good one that one, she’s like Daddy. She knows life and she wants to forget it … But you, how are you now? Have you had food?’

  ‘I’ve been sleeping and when I got up there was no one in the house so I came out and I saw this fighting. Tell me, Daddy, is he always like this? He likes fighting, does he fight?’

  ‘We will eat first and then we will talk and maybe later Joseph will take you to see the place, heh?’

  Xuma followed her into the house and sat watching while she prepared the food.

  For all her bigness she moved easily and gracefully. A tall strong woman with firm heavy hips. And it seemed to Xuma that again she was just an ordinary woman as she leaned over the fire to see that the meat did not burn. Like last night when she talked about her man who was in jail for having killed a man with a big mouth who had tried to make love to her. She was hard to understand, this woman. He shook his head.