When I was. Nataniël

When I was - Nataniël


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o’clock, make them feel welcome and remember that all of them were orphans. We were all shocked and ran home to tell our parents.

      I don’t know anything about orphans! said my mother, What do they eat?

      I’ve heard a lot about those, said my father, They look sad, but they develop faster than other children, they know every trick in the book, it’s not normal.

      The next day we all stood in front of the school to receive our orphans. We were really scared and by the time the bus turned through the gates, most people were crying. Our first orphan was a tall boy with blond hair and bright blue eyes that looked like there was a light shining behind them. Our second orphan was a short boy with black hair and very long lashes like a girl. The leader of the choir told Mother he was a soloist and should not sit in a draft.

      That night we were having supper when Mother asked the first orphan to pass the peas.

      Peas are healthy, said father, Have you had some before?

      The blond boy looked at Father.

      Peas are the green vegetables with the highest fat content, he said, And when they are overcooked like this they also provide no fibre or nutrition. We’d prefer not to have any.

      We immediately realised something memorable was about to happen and stopped eating.

      Father put down his knife and fork.

      Another thing that is healthy, he said, Is being grateful.

      Oh, we are grateful, said the blond boy, For our talent and for the high standards that are being instilled in us.

      We are sorry, said Mother, They told us you were orphans.

      We are, said the blond boy, That means we have not met our biological parents, but we are not deformed, mentally inferior, unwashed, uneducated, spiritually impoverished or without taste.

      You must be from a five-star orphanage, said Father.

      We are not from an orphanage, said the boy, We live at the academy where we have our classes and choir practices. It’s one of the best in the world.

      Father looked at his plate.

      Academy, he said, It’s not normal.

      That night I was lying in my dark room with the two orphans. I was trying to hear the soloist breathe. Mother had covered him with so many blankets, I thought he might be dead. The blond boy switched on a torch and pointed it at me.

      Are you coming to the concert? he asked.

      Yes, I said.

      He turned the torch towards himself. His eyes looked like stars.

      When we sing about Christmas, you have to close your eyes, he said, You have to imagine things that are not there.

      Why? I said.

      We perform all over the world, he said, Some places have snow and tall trees with wooden angels and real candles and knitted gloves and people who sing carols without blushing and tiny cakes with wise men made out of icing. It’s not how it really was in Bethlehem, but it’s magical. Around here there is very little magic. Without it you don’t believe in anything.

      He pointed the torch at me.

      Can you sing? he asked.

      No, I said.

      Then you just have to wait, he said.

      For what? I said.

      Your escape, he said.

      It is now many years later and I haven’t escaped yet, but I do sing for a living. And when I sing or hear a Christmas song, I can’t help it, I think of snow, knitted gloves, green vegetables and an orphan with a torch and stars in his eyes.

      When I was 12

      When I was 12 years old our cousin Velvet came to live with us. She was the daughter of Mother’s sister Mary. We had never met her before and were really scared of her. She had a really small head, small shoulders and no breasts. But everything else was enormous. It looked like she had been stuck in a pipe.

      Velvet never said a word. She just sat at the table and rolled her eyes.

      Tell her to stop, said Father, It’s like eating with a frog.

      She’s just quiet, said Mother.

      We could never find out why Velvet came to stay with us. She just arrived, like sad news. She never made a sound, just moved around the house and cleaned everything she could find.

      Why don’t you send her down the street? asked Father, Let her scare some other people. Or clean their houses. We need the money – Pearl needs a bigger pool, she’s been putting on weight on that lilo.

      One night we were having supper when Mother asked Velvet to pass the peas. Velvet rolled her eyes and started crying. That was the first noise she ever made in our house. We immediately realised something memorable was about to happen and stopped eating.

      I never expected it to happen, said Velvet.

      But the peas are standing right in front of you, said Father.

      Let her talk, said Mother.

      His name is Wilson, said Velvet.

      That’s lovely, said Mother, And where is he now?

      I don’t know, said Velvet, He just spoke to me after church.

      That must have been unexpected, said Father.

      Leave her alone, said Mother. She put her hand on Velvet’s arm.

      And what did he say? she asked.

      Velvet rolled her eyes. He said that if I met him behind the church the next night, he’d show me why we were put on this earth.

      And did you meet him? asked Mother.

      Velvet nodded.

      And then? asked Mother.

      He took me, whispered Velvet.

      Took you where? said Father.

      There! cried Velvet.

      Father looked at Mother. I liked her better when she was quiet, he said, Tell her to go to her room.

      From then on we had to help Mother clean the house again. Velvet stayed in her room while we wondered what she was doing. And then one day we came home from school and a baby was crying in the kitchen. We looked around the door. Velvet was sitting at the table. She had a small bundle in her arms and was looking at it with dead eyes. Father stood in the corner, looking like one of those people who wake up at their own funerals. Mother was pouring milk into a bottle.

      You have to decide on a name, she said.

      What will become of us? said Velvet.

      Millions of people would like to know, said Father, They don’t have a clue. And then they bring more people into the world who might never have a clue. Only a few lucky ones ever find an answer.

      Then he opened the back door so we could all hear Aunt Pearl sing in the pool.

      When I was 13

      When I was 13 years old a new boy came to our school. His name was Kelvin Booyens. He was really pretty with dark skin and pitch-black hair. He was shy and spoke to nobody.

      I had just started puberty and was temporarily insane and going through a friendly phase. Our teacher decided Kelvin Booyens should sit next to me. I was really excited because I’d never had a pretty friend. But on the second day, during English class, he had to lean over to read from my book. It was then that I learned beauty came with a price.

      Kelvin Booyens had the breath of a three-hundred-year-old wolf. The first time he exhaled close to me, I slipped into another world, lived through chemical warfare, danced naked with my forefathers, saw a white light beckoning and fell from my desk.

      Our


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