warmth she offered everybody.
They inspected her and her restaurant. 'Do you have any
beer?' Steel Grey asked, unimpressed.
Emma turned back to me, shaking her head slightly and ate her
scone.
'Unfortunately we are not licensed, but the bottle store is
just across the way. I'll send Mietjie over quickly. Please, sit down ...' and
she held out her hand to the large table for six.
Steel Grey checked me over once. Ratface eyed Emma
speculatively.
They sat down. The back of Sporty's T-shirt read 'If you can
read this, the bitch fell off.?
Tannie Wilna brought them menus. 'What beer do you prefer?'
'Black Label,' said Steel Grey. 'Cold.'
'Run over and fetch us four Black Labels from Zelda, please,'
Tannie Wilna said to Mietjie. 'Ask her for the cold ones.'
'Make that twelve, Aunty,' said Steel Grey.
'Lots of drinking to do,' said the Big Guy.
'The Thirstland Trek,' said Ratface, court jester to the
House of Harley. They all laughed. Hu-hu-hu. Comrades.
Mietjie went out on her errand. A moment's silence.
Outside four coloured people rode by on a donkey cart towards
Beaufort, the hooves clip-clopping on the tar. Sporty watched them, and said,
'Back roads.' The others guffawed again, some in-joke. They began a
conversation, voices louder than necessary so that we, the audience, could
listen.
Emma
gave me a small, nostalgic smile, acknowledging that our magic moment was over.
20
Rabid animals
are often characterised by unusual behaviour, which may include attacking
humans.
The Basics of Tracking:
Dangerous animals
'Where were we?' she asked quietly.
'The Black Swan,' I said and sipped my coffee. It was the
gripping book she had been telling me about.
'I was just about finished anyway.' Emma poured tea into her
cup and picked up the last scone.
At the next table Steel Grey announced he was going to buy a
Porsche Cayenne.
'Why?' Sporty asked, 'Your Q7, it's a year old.'
'Because I can.'
Hu-hu-hu.
Steel Grey was trying too hard to be the bold, tough
vagabond, the
Hell's Angel clone. Clearly he was well-off, but the
masquerade revealed some deep discontent. He probably had some high position in
a large corporation, senior management, but the role of chief executive had
eluded him, probably because his bosses saw the vicious dictator inside him.
Best guess: Financial Services sector, Fund Manager. Risk, adrenaline, big
bucks, megalomania, consuming ambition.
I considered the others. The Big Guy was the easiest to
place; he was Steel Grey's corporate underling, his watchdog. The other two
were more difficult, not colleagues, but kindred spirits. Steel Grey's clients,
possibly. Played golf together, had long drinking-buddy lunches and the
occasional sneaky visit to Teasers. All four were rich Afrikaners from Cape
Town's northern suburbs, off on a flight of fancy in the school holidays,
having parked the wife and children at the beach house in Hermanus. But the
chasm between what they really were and the image they wanted to project was
just too wide.
'You've got too many toys,' said Ratface.
'Toy makes the boy,' the Big Guy said and looked to Steel
Grey for approval.
He got it: 'Fucking right.'
So they began talking about their possessions.
Mietjie arrived with the beer, and Tannie Wilna served them.
'Forget the glasses,' said the Big Guy.
They drank deeply from the bottles, with great satisfaction.
Steel Grey banged his bottle down hard on the table, wiped his mouth. 'Mother's
milk.'
Emma leaned over her tea towards me. 'Regression,' she
whispered. 'Students again.'
More like complete arseholes, I thought.
'More beer,' Ratface shouted.
Tannie Wilna brought it.
As she passed us I asked for the bill.
'Aren't you going to have a double thick?' she asked,
surprised. The Knights went suddenly silent, listening intently.
'Not today, thank you, Tannie,' I said quietly.
'Double thick,' giggled Ratface.
Hu-hu-hu. And they drink more beer.
'The scones were delicious,' Emma said to Tannie Wilna.
'Thank you,
They inspected her and her restaurant. 'Do you have any
beer?' Steel Grey asked, unimpressed.
Emma turned back to me, shaking her head slightly and ate her
scone.
'Unfortunately we are not licensed, but the bottle store is
just across the way. I'll send Mietjie over quickly. Please, sit down ...' and
she held out her hand to the large table for six.
Steel Grey checked me over once. Ratface eyed Emma
speculatively.
They sat down. The back of Sporty's T-shirt read 'If you can
read this, the bitch fell off.?
Tannie Wilna brought them menus. 'What beer do you prefer?'
'Black Label,' said Steel Grey. 'Cold.'
'Run over and fetch us four Black Labels from Zelda, please,'
Tannie Wilna said to Mietjie. 'Ask her for the cold ones.'
'Make that twelve, Aunty,' said Steel Grey.
'Lots of drinking to do,' said the Big Guy.
'The Thirstland Trek,' said Ratface, court jester to the
House of Harley. They all laughed. Hu-hu-hu. Comrades.
Mietjie went out on her errand. A moment's silence.
Outside four coloured people rode by on a donkey cart towards
Beaufort, the hooves clip-clopping on the tar. Sporty watched them, and said,
'Back roads.' The others guffawed again, some in-joke. They began a
conversation, voices louder than necessary so that we, the audience, could
listen.
Emma
gave me a small, nostalgic smile, acknowledging that our magic moment was over.
20
Rabid animals
are often characterised by unusual behaviour, which may include attacking
humans.
The Basics of Tracking:
Dangerous animals
'Where were we?' she asked quietly.
'The Black Swan,' I said and sipped my coffee. It was the
gripping book she had been telling me about.
'I was just about finished anyway.' Emma poured tea into her
cup and picked up the last scone.
At the next table Steel Grey announced he was going to buy a
Porsche Cayenne.
'Why?' Sporty asked, 'Your Q7, it's a year old.'
'Because I can.'
Hu-hu-hu.
Steel Grey was trying too hard to be the bold, tough
vagabond, the
Hell's Angel clone. Clearly he was well-off, but the
masquerade revealed some deep discontent. He probably had some high position in
a large corporation, senior management, but the role of chief executive had
eluded him, probably because his bosses saw the vicious dictator inside him.
Best guess: Financial Services sector, Fund Manager. Risk, adrenaline, big
bucks, megalomania, consuming ambition.
I considered the others. The Big Guy was the easiest to
place; he was Steel Grey's corporate underling, his watchdog. The other two
were more difficult, not colleagues, but kindred spirits. Steel Grey's clients,
possibly. Played golf together, had long drinking-buddy lunches and the
occasional sneaky visit to Teasers. All four were rich Afrikaners from Cape
Town's northern suburbs, off on a flight of fancy in the school holidays,
having parked the wife and children at the beach house in Hermanus. But the
chasm between what they really were and the image they wanted to project was
just too wide.
'You've got too many toys,' said Ratface.
'Toy makes the boy,' the Big Guy said and looked to Steel
Grey for approval.
He got it: 'Fucking right.'
So they began talking about their possessions.
Mietjie arrived with the beer, and Tannie Wilna served them.
'Forget the glasses,' said the Big Guy.
They drank deeply from the bottles, with great satisfaction.
Steel Grey banged his bottle down hard on the table, wiped his mouth. 'Mother's
milk.'
Emma leaned over her tea towards me. 'Regression,' she
whispered. 'Students again.'
More like complete arseholes, I thought.
'More beer,' Ratface shouted.
Tannie Wilna brought it.
As she passed us I asked for the bill.
'Aren't you going to have a double thick?' she asked,
surprised. The Knights went suddenly silent, listening intently.
'Not today, thank you, Tannie,' I said quietly.
'Double thick,' giggled Ratface.
Hu-hu-hu. And they drink more beer.
'The scones were delicious,' Emma said to Tannie Wilna.
'Thank you,
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