J. Coetzee - The Schooldays of Jesus

He is in a spacious room lit by skylights, evidently the boarders’ dormitory. Seated side by side on one of the beds are Ana Magdalena and Alyosha. A dozen children cluster around them. He recognizes the two Arroyo boys who had danced at the concert, but Davíd is not there.

‘I apologize for intruding,’ he says. ‘I am hunting for my son.’

‘Davíd is at his music lesson,’ says Ana Magdalena. ‘He will be free at four o’clock. Would you like to wait? You can join us. Alyosha is reading us a story. Alyosha, children, this is señor Simón, Davíd’s father.’

‘I am not intruding?’ he says.

‘You are not intruding,’ says Ana Magdalena. ‘Sit down. Joaquín, tell señor Simón what has happened thus far.’

You are not intruding. Sit down . In Ana Magdalena’s voice, in her whole bearing, there is an unexpected friendliness. Has the change come about because they were naked together? Was that all that was needed?

Joaquín, the elder of the Arroyo boys, speaks. ‘There is a fisherman, a poor fisherman, and one day he catches a fish and he cuts it open and in its stomach he finds a gold ring. He rubs the ring and —’

‘To make it sparkle.’ It is his younger brother who interrupts him. ‘He rubs the ring to make it sparkle.’

‘He rubs the ring to make it sparkle and a genie appears and the genie says, “Each time you rub the magic ring I will appear and grant you a wish, you have three wishes, so what is your first wish?” That’s all.’

‘All-powerful,’ says Ana Magdalena. ‘Remember, the genie says he is all-powerful and can grant any wish. Alyosha, go on reading.’

He has not looked properly at Alyosha before. The young man has fine, rather beautiful black hair which he combs straight back from his temples, and a complexion as delicate as a girl’s. There is no sign that he shaves. He casts his dark, long-lashed eyes down and, in a surprisingly resonant voice, reads.

‘Not believing the genie’s words, the fisherman decided to test him. “I wish for a hundred fishes to take to the fish market and sell,” he said.

‘Instantly a great wave broke on the beach and left a hundred fishes at his feet, leaping and flapping as they expired.

‘‘‘What is your second wish?” asked the genie.

‘Emboldened, the fisherman replied, “I wish for a beautiful girl to be my wife.”

‘Instantly there appeared, kneeling before the fisherman, a girl so beautiful that she took his breath away. “I am yours, my lord,” said the girl.

‘“And what is your final wish?” said the genie.

‘“I wish to be king of the world,” said the fisherman.

‘Instantly the fisherman found himself clothed in a robe of golden samite, with a gold crown on his head. An elephant appeared, which lifted him with its trunk and seated him on a throne upon its back. “You have had your final wish. You are king of the world,” said the genie. “Farewell.” And he vanished in a puff of smoke.

‘It was late in the day. The beach was deserted, save for the fisherman and his beautiful bride-to-be and the elephant and the hundred dying fish. “We shall proceed to my village,” said the fisherman in his most kingly voice. “Proceed!” But the elephant did not stir. “Proceed!” shouted the fisherman even more loudly; still the elephant did not heed him. “You! Girl!” shouted the king. “Fetch a stick and beat this elephant to make him proceed!” Obediently the girl fetched a stick and beat the elephant until the elephant began to walk.

‘As the sun was setting they arrived at the fisherman’s village. His neighbours clustered around, marvelling at the elephant and the beautiful girl and the fisherman himself, seated on his throne with the crown on his head. “Behold, I am king of the world, and this is my queen!” said the fisherman. “To show my bounty, on the morrow you shall have a feast of a hundred fishes.” The villagers rejoiced and helped the king down from the elephant; he retired to his humble dwelling where he spent the night in the arms of his beautiful bride.

‘As soon as day dawned, the villagers set off for the beach to fetch the hundred fishes. But when they arrived they saw nothing but fish bones, for during the night wolves and bears had come down to the beach and gorged themselves. So the villagers came back saying, “O king, wolves and bears have devoured the fishes, catch more fishes for us, we are hungry.”

‘Out of the folds of his robe the fisherman fetched the gold ring. He rubbed it and rubbed it, but no genie appeared.

‘Then the villagers grew angry, saying, “What kind of king are you who cannot feed us?”

‘“I am king of all the world,” replied the fisherman made king. “If you refuse to recognize me I will remove myself.” He turned to his bride of the night. “Bring the elephant,” he commanded. “We are departing from this ungrateful village.”

‘But during the night the elephant had wandered off, throne and all, and no one knew where to find him.

‘“Come!” said the fisherman to his bride. “We will walk.”

‘But his bride refused. “Queens don’t walk,” she pouted. “I want to ride like a queen on un palafrén blanco with a retinue of maidens preceding me beating tambourines.”’

The door opens and Dmitri tiptoes into the room followed by Davíd. Alyosha pauses in his reading. ‘Come, Davíd,’ says Ana Magdalena. ‘Alyosha is reading us the story of the fisherman who would be king.’

While Davíd takes a seat by her side Dmitri remains at the door, squatting, with his cap in his hands. Ana Magdalena frowns and gives an abrupt little wave as if ordering him out, but he pays no attention.

‘Go on, Alyosha,’ says Ana Magdalena, ‘and listen carefully, children, because when Alyosha has finished I am going to ask you what we can learn from the story of the fisherman.’

‘I know the answer,’ says Davíd. ‘I have read the story already by myself.’

‘You may have read the story, Davíd, but the rest of us have not,’ says Ana Magdalena. ‘Alyosha, go on.’

‘“You are my bride, you will obey me,” said the fisherman.

‘Haughtily the girl tossed her head. “I am a queen, I do not walk, I ride on un palafrén ,” she repeated.’

‘What is a palafrén , Alyosha?’ asks one of the children.

‘A palafrén is a horse,’ says Davíd. ‘Isn’t that so, Alyosha?’

Alyosha nods. ‘“I ride on un palafrén .”

‘Without a word the king turned his back on his bride and strode off. For many miles he walked until he came to another village. The villagers gathered around him, marvelling at his crown and his samite robe.

‘“Behold, I am king of the world,” said the fisherman. “Bring me food to eat, for I am hungry.”

‘“We will bring you food,” replied the villagers, “but if you are a king as you say, where is your retinue of followers?”

‘“I do not need a retinue of followers to be king,” said the fisherman. “Do you not see the crown upon my head? Do as I say. Bring me a feast.”

‘Then the villagers laughed at him. Instead of bringing him a feast, they knocked the crown off his head and tugged off his samite robe until he stood before them in the humble garb of a fisherman. “You are a pretender!” cried the villagers. “You are just a fisherman! You are no better than us! Go back to where you came from!” And they beat him with staves until he ran away. And thus ended the story of the fisherman who would be king.’

‘And thus ended the story,’ echoes Ana Magdalena. ‘An interesting story, is it not, children. What do you think we can learn from it?’

‘I know,’ says Davíd, and gives him, Simón, a little sidelong smile as if to say, Do you see how clever I am here in the Academy?