‘What time is it in the afternoon?’ Porlock asks.
‘Time to give your heart to Jesus,’ he jokes and gets up with the help of the wall that he presses against.
‘Where are you going now?’ Porlock asks.
‘I’m going to see my lawyer.’
‘Your lawyer? That you get where?’
‘None of your beeswax. Guthrie and Theron are where I am headed. Are you coming then?’
‘No,’ says Porlock. ‘Oubaas might be coming to look for us and then who is going to tell him where we are, huh?’
Abacus scurries down the road.
‘Hey, Abacus?’
‘What is it? I am going to be late for my appointment.’
‘So what is the story now actually?’
‘What story?’
‘You were supposed to tell me where the name Gansbaai comes from.’
‘I did, you just didn’t listen properly.’
‘Okay, will you tell it to me again?’
‘Yes, tomorrow.’
Acknowledgements
Thank you Meg Vandermerwe for teaching me to spot the ‘lies’, for teaching me the beauty of words and showing me that humanity and truth lie in the words that we create.
Thank you, Professor Wendy Woodward, for teaching me that poetry is everywhere. I see differently because of your careful eye and mentorship.
Thank you to Sandra Hill and Jerome Cornelius for your writing camaraderie and who I can still rely on for a wake-up call.
Thank you to UWC English Department’s Creates Program for moulding writers and for moulding me to be a voice for others through writing.
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Tjieng Tjang Tjerries and Other Stories Page 8
