Agaat - Marlene van Niekerk [168]
Jak, calm down, you said, you’re overwrought, it’s not as bad as you’re making out, you’re imagining things. Come now, it’s only me, Milla, you look as if you’re seeing a ghost!
You! he screamed, short of breath, and extended his arm, pointed his finger at you. His hand was trembling. His chest was heaving.
He put his hand in front of his face, one hand around his throat. You were afraid he might have a fit. He plucked at his clothes as if there was something crawling on him.
You, you suck me dry, you worm my guts out of me, that’s what you do, a leech, that’s what you are! Nobody knows it, nobody can guess it, nobody can read between the lines, but don’t think I don’t see through you. Even if I’m the only one who sees, even if you fool everybody else around you. I hear how you talk to the neighbour’s wife, I hear it all. I don’t buy your story. I don’t buy it any longer, do you hear! I don’t buy it! Your tale that you spin everyone! The fine, intelligent Milla de Wet! How sensitive! How hard-working! Lonely! Long-suffering! It’s a lie, an infamous lie! You don’t suffer, you flourish, that’s what! You’re in your element here! A sow is what you are, an eternally ravenous sow with teeth like that! With wings! In Jerusalem! You’re in the trough! In the trough with your snout in the swill! That’s where you are! You batten on me!
Jak’s voice broke with the force of his shouting. He sank to his knees. His shoulders were hunched. The bones of his skull showed through the stubble. You poured a glass of water from the carafe on the table and held it out to him. He didn’t want to take it. He struggled to his feet. He stood in the corner of the sitting room pressed against the curtains, trembling, ashen-faced. You placed the glass of water on the coffee table, your hands in front of you to show that you weren’t coming closer.
I’ll go, you said, I’ll leave the room, just calm yourself. Rather go and lie down. Should I phone a doctor? you asked.
He averted his face. His Adam’s apple went up and down as he swallowed. The front of his shirt was stained with dark patches of sweat.
You went out onto the front stoep. You thought, what now? how to carry on? You looked back through the window at the uncleared supper table. The wine bottle was still more than half full. So Jak wasn’t drunk. You looked out over the yard to see whether you could see Agaat and Jakkie’s lantern. You could go to them.
They know that I’m good, mostly good, they know how gentle I can be. You remembered when you were small, how your father sometimes after he’d quarrelled with your mother, came and sat on the edge of your bed, and stroked his hand over your forehead, how your mother would later join him, and how they would try to effect peace between themselves by telling you bedtime stories.
You heard from the dogs in the backyard and the slamming of the screen door that they were back from the dam. Agaat would see to it that Jakkie had a bath and got to bed. You would go to them, to the steam and the aromatic soap and the white towels. You could get them to hurry up so that the table could be cleared, you could help Agaat with it, pack the leftovers in the fridge, and carry on with the normal things, with your life.
But you remained standing there on the stoep listening to Jak pouring himself a glass of wine. He came out and stood next to you.
There’s another story here, Milla, he said, you don’t want to hear it because you can’t manage anger and disillusionment and breakdowns. It’s doubly difficult for you because at the same time it’s energy that you can’t do without. But we know that you have your nose in the story-books all the time. Perhaps you’ll understand it better in the form of a fairy tale. Perhaps you’ll get the point then. I can come and tell it to your whole cake-and-tea club one day, because you are of the same species.
You didn’t look at each other. You gazed into the dark garden. You wrapped your arms around yourself.
Once upon a time there was a man who looked at himself in the mirror and thought that he was good enough, said