The covenant - James A. Michener [498]
'Piet Krause.'
'Now, that's a proper Afrikaner name. You should have one too. Detleef, that's what it ought to be, here in a new land.'
'Do you like it as Detleef?'
'I do. It sounds proper and responsible.'
Whenever their conversation might have taken a lighter tone, the shadow of the monument fell across them, and they would study its well-carved figures and envision once more the episodes of the camps, or they would look up at the monitory obelisk rising one hundred and thirteen feet above them, summoning them back to serious matters.
'If the Germans should arrive from the west and the east, would you join with them?'
'Is there reason to believe . . .'
'Oh, yes! My father is sure there will be war in Europe, and that the Germans will mass their forces in South-West Africa and Tanganyika and come toward us like pincers.' She hesitated. 'You'd join them, of course?'
Detlev didn't know what to say. He'd heard such rumors frequently in recent years, when things seemed to be going badly in Europe, but he had never believed that Germany would actually strike at South Africa. If she did, he would leap to her support, of course, because any enemy of England's had to be a friend of his, but he was not prepared to commit himself openly.
'My father will be the first to join them,' Maria said. 'We pray that they will come soon to liberate us.' Detlev understood this enthusiasm but still remained silent. 'It would be rather wonderful, you know, to be a free country again,' she said, 'under our own rulers, with a strong Germany on either side to protect us.'
When Detlev made no response, she changed the subject: 'Will you make your name Afrikaans?'
'I've been thinking about that. I don't much like it the way it is.'
'Detleef,' she repeated. 'I like that.'
'Done!' he said. 'I prefer all things Afrikaans. I am now Detleef van Doorn.' He was sorely tempted to take her hand, or even to kiss her to mark the solemnity of his rechristening, but the mournfulness of the monument prevented this, and they spent the rest of that meaningful day talking of sober subjects.
When he returned home he found himself something of a hero, for he was invited to speak at various communities, telling of the splendid monument which memorialized their hardships in the camps. He was asked to come even to Carolina, an invitation he accepted eagerly, since it enabled him to renew acquaintance with Maria Steyn and to meet her father. When in his talk he alluded gracefully to the heroic performance of Christoffel Steyn and the Carolina men, everyone applauded.
After his speech he shared supper with the Steyns, and in later years he remembered this affair as one of the most important in his life. It had nothing to do with Maria, and was a silly thing, really, but as he watched Mrs. Steyn, almost as plump as her husband, moving easily about the kitchen and displaying her love for her family, it occurred to him that she was a second wife, not a first, and he wondered if his childhood would not have been happier had his father married again. He saw Mrs. Steyn as the epitome of what a loving Afrikaner woman could be, and it was important that he see this.
When he returned to his own home he was struck by its bleakness, and he felt depressed, but his thoughts were diverted by a series of mysterious incidents. Unidentified horsemen arrived at Vrymeer asking where General de Groot lived, and when they were told, they galloped off into the darkness. Excitement was caused by the appearance of an automobile containing three serious-looking men who wanted to consult with the general, and one afternoon Maria Steyn's fat little father appeared on the stoep, asking to talk not only with General de Groot but also with Jakob. Van Doorn was now sixty-nine years old, white-haired and somewhat stooped, but still mentally alert, and after the meeting ended he was obviously disturbed.
One evening in midwinter, 1914, when supper was over, he pushed