Читать книгу The Messiah's Dream Machine - Jennifer Friedman - Страница 7

Goodbye, farewell

The regulator clock ticks on the wall. The hour strikes. Dust settles. A feather falls from a dove lamenting in a poplar tree outside; my-mother’s-dead-my-father’s-dead-all-are-dead-all-are-dead.

In the garden, rose heads hang in the heavy summer heat. My cupboard shelves are bare. The pretty ice skaters on the wallpaper next to my bed have faded almost to shadows. The leather suitcase on the parquet floor is full. Heavy. Sandy, my best, most faithful friend – the puppy Ma took me to collect from the station all those years ago – lies on the floor in front of the window, his long ears puddled around his head. He looks up at me, stretches and yawns, gets to his feet. His nails click on the wooden floor as he walks toward the bed. He stops in front of me, rests his head on my knees. I reach down and pull him up onto my lap.

“I’ll come back soon, Sandy-boy,” I whisper into the warm, musty flap of his ear. “Soon, I promise.” His tail beats his song of love against my arm.

Suddenly, his ears prick up. He barks, jumps down off my lap and runs out of my room towards the kitchen. I get up to follow him. He slip-slides on the polished floor, barrels into the kitchen and pushes past Isak into the yard. Isak wipes his muddy hands against his khaki shirt, shuffles his bare feet in the doorway. He helps Ma in the garden, and when I was born, he filled it with flowers to welcome me home. He’s my friend.

“Isak, will you look after Sandy for me when I’m not here?” My eyes are blurred with tears.

He looks at me, his face anxious and sad.

“Eh, M’Pho.”

Marta and Isak gave me my Sotho name when I was born. It means ‘Gift from God.’

He leans forward. “M’Pho, you must be careful there by the sea – you must stay well, so far away. You know I will be here when you come back. Sandy will be safe.” His words tumble out, urgent and fast. When he turns away, I see Marta hold her hand out to him.