There is a town on the edge of a continent, next to a mountain by the sea. In the shadow of the mountain is a stretch of castles in a forest, with moats and gardens all divided and connected with railroads and caroads. At dawn the sun shows its head just above the mountain tops and beams it rays under the tree tops, reflecting brilliantly off the castles shiny panels. On queue, the castles let open their heavy gates and the castle patriarchs emerge with stubble on their chin and slippers on their feet to feed their gardens with pipes and water.
My eyes open just before the phone begins its angry song. I take the few moments to distinguish between dream and life. I must make a choice. I want the dream. But then the phone begins its song. And so the phone, which I programmed, has forced me to make a choice and I choose life. I open the tap to the radio and let in a whole lot of life. Scandals, political interference and well documented human ineptitude. A shower, a shit, a shave and a careful selection of clothes. Somehow, no matter how carefully I select them, I never look much different from one week to the next. But I must not to wake up the woman in the bed. She too must make her choice soon. Sometimes I think it is harder for her to choose.
When the sparrows begin their songs of love and war, the engines of rail and road are loud and roaring. Trains and speed-cars complete their journey from far away plains, to the waking forest. From these transport machines come men and children. The men for work the kids for school, each equally for tiresome toil. After them, come the Eve’s, to work for the Madam’s.
I don’t want to miss assembly outside the fence. I am not sure if the grass needs that much water but it is a pity to not be among the men in various stages of social decay watering the grass in the front yard. It was Gift however, not the men in their shorts and slippers, who suggested I get a hosepipe. Gift the ad hoc gardener. That is what I shall call him, an ‘ad hoc gardener’. He was persistent. I clean for you boss. Make nice for you. I come every week. I should have told him from the start there was not much money for him. But I let him come again the next Saturday. There was work to be done after all. Get a hose pipe he said . I will make the garden nice. But then he did his own thing and not what was asked of him. He wouldn’t take instructions from my girlfriend either. He thought I was the boss. I should have said that it isn’t my house and it isn’t my car either. But no, I was the boss to whom he looked up to. Somehow, in his eyes he seemed to see a long remunerative engagement.
Gift would not take the money. It wasn’t enough he said. Is this a game? That was what he asked. He said I said R150. I said it was R100 last week and so it is this week. He said he had done more work. He gave the money back and stormed out. Then he returned with the neighbour, Alex, from across the busy street as an impromptu council. Alex said Take the money but Gift was too proud. Later Gift took his money. Days later, talking to Alex by the street, he said These guys they can cause you so much trouble. You try be nice to them hey, and the just throw it in your face. These guys they always here. I see them. There by the shop on the corner. They just sit all day, waiting for work. Once, I went up to them and said I have a small job for you. Won’t take you half the day, for R50. This guy just said no. He didn’t want. I told him instead of you just sitting here, come do some work. But nothing.
One day, Tobre comes home to find the side gate forced open and the latch broken. The walls have been breached! The hose pipe is missing. The one I got on Gift’s advice after the altercation. She thinks it is Gift but I am weary of a quick verdict. But then again he did say God will make it fair before he stormed out. It does not matter. I bought another hosepipe. I don’t want to miss assembly in the morning.
Everyday men come to seek you out. They ask for transport money, donations for sports events, small jobs, cigarettes or just any small job. But the school kids and the Eve’s, they just walk on by for the train or the speed-cars. At the end of the day, when the shadow of the mountain creeps over the forest and the castles, the army moves out and the patriarchs come to assembly to water their gardens again.
