When I was. Nataniël
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When I was
Nataniël
Human & Rousseau
Dedicated to the 7 ladies who came to
dinner at my house on 15 December 2002:
Diane, Christa, Aida, Engelise, Isabeau,
Lisa and Magda
When I was 7
When I was 7 years old my father took us to the farm to visit our grandparents for Christmas. Everybody seemed very happy until my grandfather asked me if I wanted to go to the dam.
I told him it would look much nicer if they made all the ducks wear little dresses.
After that my father had to hold my mother back. She just wanted to walk into the water. She said she needed to meet the Lord and ask him some questions.
Two weeks later my mother came to my room and told me although my development was not what they had hoped for, she needed to ask me a favour. She said her sister had a daughter with one really small hand. She said nobody ever thought this girl would find a husband with an income, but now she was getting married and they needed six flower girls. She said it would not be a real wedding without six flower girls. Sometimes when there was alcohol in the family people got married with only one or two, but look at what happened to Bet-Bet Landman. She got married with only five flower girls, then she swallowed the head of a teaspoon on her honeymoon. And all the way to the hospital that thing was blocking her oxygen, now she had to live with constant headaches and two boys who liked classical music.
My mother said sometimes we had to think about the happiness of others. She said we had only five cousins in the family, so her sister had asked if I would be the sixth flower girl. She said it would not be difficult because I did not run around like normal children anyway. She said I had to remember it would just be for the wedding, after that I would have to try and be a boy again.
When my father found out about the plans, he drove the car into the ditch and said nobody was going anywhere. Then Mother told him there were other people on earth as well and phoned the family. On the day of the wedding strangers picked us up and drove us to another town. Mother told me not to talk to anyone and never, ever lift my dress. The dress was peach. There was powder on my face and ribbons on my head.
At the church the five cousins would not even look at me. They just stood in a row and held their flowers. The bride with the small hand told me to walk behind them.
We were ten steps into the church when the fifth cousin turned around and looked at me.
You’re not a real flower girl, she said.
I am, I said, Look.
Then I did what any real girl would do. I pushed her. She fell on top of the fourth niece. The rest went down like dominoes.
I could see the whole church and all the people. And they could see me. In front of me the flower girls were crying, behind me the bride was waiting. But I did not move. I looked at the preacher, then the groom and the best man. And then I saw Bennie Wiege. He was holding a little cushion with two rings. He was eight years old. He looked at me and smiled.
And at that moment we both knew there were things in this world our parents would never have told us. I knew that in less than an hour the dress would be gone and my face would be washed. But I knew there would be trouble. Big trouble that would last for years.
When I was 8
When I was 8 years old I discovered for the first time that most adults had problems. Up until then I had always believed that being a grown-up meant you had everything you needed, you could do what you wanted and never had to listen to anyone. But then I started noticing things, things that did not seem right, like people frowning, whispering, crying and repeating outfits.
I lost all interest in other children and became obsessed with finding out what was going on with the grown-ups. I could not stop sneaking around, waiting around corners, hiding behind doors, opening cupboards and looking under furniture.
One night I opened my bedroom door and heard the most unbelievable conversation. My mother was telling my grandmother that it was time my grandfather confronted his demons. I knew my grandfather had chickens, ducks and rabbits, but where were the demons?
Then my grandmother said she kept hiding all the bottles but he kept finding them.
She said if he was an alcolic person, she was going to leave him. Then my mother became really upset and started using her high voice, so I closed my door.
The next morning I waited until I was alone in the kitchen with my mother. I tried to sound really innocent.
What is an alcolic person? I asked.
My mother looked at me.
Not alcolic, she said, Alcoholic.
What is it? I said.
It is a person who is very thirsty, she said.
Why? I said.
Because he is in a desert, she said.
Where? I said.
It is an emotional desert, said my mother.
That day I couldn’t concentrate in school. I told everybody my grandfather was in a desert and kept his demons in a bottle. And the more I spoke about him, the more he became a hero. One with a secret.
The next time I found out my grandparents were coming to visit, I told everybody. That afternoon the house was filled with children. We followed my grandfather everywhere. Every time we saw a bottle we gasped.
What is wrong with you? asked Grandfather.
Show us your demon! shouted little Simon Minnie.
Grandfather looked at us.
Sit down, he said. Then he told us a story about a monster that lived in a forest. It was so scary that Corlia Joubert peed on the couch. Grandfather took a deep breath and told us another story. It was about a monster that lived nearby and walked the streets at night. He was harmless and would do anything just to have a friend. He was really tall and brittle and would sometimes lose a hand or a foot. Grandfather said Grandmother always picked it up in the morning and cooked it for supper and would we like a taste, there’s a foot in the oven right now.
Then Vicky Eloff’s asthma returned and we had to phone his parents.
That night I overheard another fascinating conversation. Grandmother was really angry.
How could you tell the children stories about monsters, she screamed, Are you drunk? Those children will never sleep again!
Every child needs a monster, said Grandfather.
I will have you arrested! screamed Grandmother.
When a child learns how the world works, he becomes scared, said Grandfather, He needs his own monster to fight the others. They have been giving children monsters in every fairytale since the beginning, dragons, eagles, geese and bats, creatures that can protect them and help them escape.
From what? said Grandmother.
You know what happens, said Grandfather, You know what they do to children. Teachers, strangers, people they know, parents, uncles. Better you have a monster when you need one, than a demon at my age. You know what happens.
It took me many years to find out what happens. But since that day I have loved my grandfather, he might have been a little alcolic, but he gave me the monster that has been my protection to this day.
This story is dedicated to all those children who never had any.
When I was 9
When I was 9 years old I often had to stay after school for my music lessons. One day, on my way out, I heard two of the older boys talking in the bathroom. One