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 teacher asked Kelvin Booyens to wait outside. Then she told us that he might have a digestive disorder. People like that could brush their teeth but still smell bad because of tension or the wrong foods. She said we should not be judgemental. Many people with bad breath got married and had normal children. We didn’t care. We called him Hyena Breath and never spoke to him again. He didn’t seem to mind.
Six months later Mother came home from a church meeting and announced they had started an outreach programme. She said that every family was going to welcome a stranger into their home for supper.
We’re lucky, she said, We could have gotten that Kloppers woman who can’t swallow, but now we just have a lonely boy from school.
He stinks! I said.
And here comes the Da Vinci moment, said Father.
Mother crossed her arms and smiled like an angel.
We are all equal, she said. Somewhere a choir started singing.
But they were dead silent on the night of the supper. We were sitting at the table, waiting for our food. Mother was sitting in the back yard, talking to our guest. When she finally came into the kitchen, she was slightly squint, holding on to the wall. But she kept her smile. Behind her was Hyena Breath.
So where do you live? asked Father.
That lovely house behind the bakery, said Mother.
What do your parents do? asked Father.
They’re not together, said Mother, His mother is with somebody new. Let’s eat.
So who lives behind the bakery? asked Father.
He lives there with his mother and his new father, said Mother, The other one travels. Have some peas.
Hyena Breath sat down next to me. He put some peas on his plate and looked at them. Then he looked at us.
My father has been all over the world, he said, He sends me pictures from the newspapers. He’s the Butterfly Man.
Is that a medical condition? asked Father.
He’s with a circus, said Hyena Breath, He shoots from a cannon. Then he turns into a butterfly.
It must be fun to have two fathers, said Father, One on the ground and one in the air.
You go and live with a stranger, said Mother, Then you come tell us how much fun it is.
I looked at Hyena Breath.
Do you go to the circus a lot? I asked.
No, he said, My mother says it’s unhealthy to be around people in tights. And she never wants to see a caravan again. So I just speak to my father when he phones.
And your new father, what does he do? asked Father.
He makes money, said Hyena Breath, And he wears suits. And he has a lot of rules.
Rules are good, said Father, It shows you people care. They want you to grow up the right way.
Hyena Breath pushed back his plate.
When too many people look after you, nobody notices you, he said, They all think the other ones will ask you what you want. It’s like a tree, they sit against you, they walk past you, but they don’t look at you. One day I will travel with my father and see the world and maybe live with the circus. There you can be what you want. And nobody feels sorry for you.
And at that moment Kelvin Booyens’s breath stopped smelling bad. He turned back into a beautiful boy with dark skin and pitch-black hair.
Never again has bad breath or lonely people bothered me. In fact, when I run into them, I’m a little bit jealous. I think, wow, there goes another one, he probably has a dad with tights and wings.
When I was 14
When I was 14 years old my cousin Rupert came to live with us. He was not like the rest of us, he came from the city and looked like
