Agaat - Marlene van Niekerk [183]
Then you could no longer stay in the bakkie. Then you had to get out.
There Jakkie was hanging, thirty metres from the ground, far away from the rock face, his legs too short to gain purchase, he hooked at the face with his claw-hammer, but he couldn’t reach.
Swing yourself, Jak tried to instruct him from below, swing yourself forward, towards the mountain! Jak signalled with both his arms, forward, forward.
You could see Jakkie trying to impel himself with his legs. He couldn’t generate enough momentum. His legs dangled. He looked up. Something wasn’t right. It was the anchor on the ridge, it was working itself loose up there. He plucked at it, showed Jak: There’s a problem.
Then part of the rope jerked loose and Jakkie’s head’s snapped back as the rope tightened again.
Jump! Jak shouted, untie yourself! Or so it sounded, you couldn’t hear very well from up there. From Jak’s gestures you could make out what the instructions were. Cut loose your halter! Hang! Hang by your arms until you’re hanging still, dead still, keep yourself up straight, keep your legs together, cut loose. Let go! I’ll catch you, I’m here! He struck his breast with the flat of his hand, I’m here, I’m here, I won’t let you get hurt, I stand fast for you, here!
He turned round to you to show you, he’s there, his hand on his chest.
And then suddenly it went dark in front of your eyes. Agaat put her small hand behind your head and clapped her big hand in front of your eyes.
When she removed it, Jak was lying on his back on the stones with Jakkie on top of him. You couldn’t make out where the one stopped and where the other started.
Agaat threw her apron over her head and crouched forward.
Did you hear right?
Même, she groaned, ai Même, tell me they’re moving, tell me, please!
It took a while for life to return to them. They slowly disentangled themselves from each other, their green clothes clearly delineated there on the white river boulders. And then they moved together again, Jakkie in under Jak’s arm, his legs over Jak’s legs. Jak rubbed his free hand all over Jakkie, put his hand in under the green windcheater. To count the ribs, to feel if they were all whole, the bones of your child.
what remains of the mending and the making and the joining and the fixing pass here under my unprehensile hands hundreds of reels of cotton and thirteen packets of singer needles singer bobbins an extra singer foot two silver thimbles varnished darning-shell darkbrown with serrated lip worn tape-measure knitting needles of steel of plastic in all sizes crochet-hooks for doilies for tablemats pin-cushions button-boxes for coats dresses blouses brandnew zips all colours of the rainbow buckles awls prickers flax-thread for leatherwork a roll of the thinnest thongs a ball of darning-wool for black socks eyelets bronze and black of steel stiffening for belts for dresses press-studs sequins felt loops gold and silver thread a length of hatband with three feathers packets of bloomer elastic narrow and wide sponge for shoulder-padding satin belt brocade cuff shoelaces white and shoelaces black shoelaces brown and red hatpins tiepins cuff links tassels for a beret pearls fresh and salt earrings brooches ma’s ring with six garnets signet ring of my father’s engagement ring wedding ring that my fingers cannot bear a tin of mica chips feldspar agate quartz a jacaranda pod an acorn cap both with their dates on from stellenbosch love three pulleys and buckle of an abseil rope put it in the delft platter in the beak of the stork for when he comes our son for when he returns speedwell and snapdragon here under my meandering fingertips rustles a needlework basket cold lining of jewelcase thumb and forefinger