Small Circle of Beings by Damon Galgut

Author:Damon Galgut [Galgut, Damon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780857891754
Publisher: Atlantic Books Ltd
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

FOUR

12

Stephen, in the occasional glimpses I catch of him, seems older to my eyes than ever. Though there are no wrinkles in his skin, his face is tired and long. Pouches have begun to form beneath his eyes, beneath his chin. We are all older, I suppose, but it takes a conscious effort to recognise this fact. I pore over my image in the glass, but can see no change. David has grown even taller and has more hair on his body. My mother defies time as she has done since she went mad.

Strangely, it is in Salome and Moses that I confront the passing of the years. I see them one day as the couple they are: grizzled and grey, their dark skins scored and riven like earth. They move stiffly and with pain. They take longer in the evenings, when they set out into the bush, to fade from my sight.

And Moses, it seems, is kinder to Salome. At least he does acknowledge her as they go about their daily business. From time to time I see him cast a glance at her; I see her smile. Once, as they walk back to their hut, the inside of which I have never seen, I see him take her by the hand. Thus joined, stepping angular and awkward as storks, they wander into the gloom of grass and vanish.

So it is not a surprise to be approached one day by this strange black pair, who are whitening as they grow old. They are restless and uneasy, shifting on their feet, as they stand before me where I sit in my familiar window seat that looks down the valley. Moses speaks on their behalf.

Inscrutable to the last, he says that he and his wife are tired now. They have grown old in the service of this family, having worked for my mother before me. They would like, if it is not too much trouble, if I do not mind …

‘I understand,’ I say.

They have a son, they tell me. He and his wife are looking for work, if I thought I needed somebody, perhaps I would consider …

‘Yes,’ I say. ‘I understand.’

It feels strange to say goodbye to them, this odd twosome who have expended their lifetime on a house and a garden that they do not own. Without warning, as silently as they first appeared in it, they take their leave. Before they go, Salome cups her hands and dips her head in a gesture of acknowledgement; but it feels like mockery to me. Seared, trembling as if I have been burnt, I stand on the back stoep and watch them retreat into the thick green jungle: going, going.

Their son and his wife appear the very next day, like a youthful version of themselves. He is thirty-two, she twenty- five. What they have done till now I cannot find out; he doesn’t seem to understand my question. I set them to work like their predecessors and reflect, as I

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