J. Coetzee - The Schooldays of Jesus

‘No.’

‘No, of course you don’t. But do you not remember because it didn’t happen or because you have forgotten? We will never know for sure. That is the way things are. That is what we must live with.’

‘I think I am a huérfano .’

‘And I think you are just saying so because it seems romantic to you to be alone in the world without parents. Well, let me inform you that in Inés you have the best mother in the world, and if you have the best mother in the world you are certainly not a huérfano .’

‘If Inés has a baby will he be my brother?’

‘Your brother or your sister. But Inés isn’t going to have a baby because Inés and I are not married.’

‘If I put my penis in Maite’s thing and she has a baby, will it be a huérfano ?’

‘No. Maite is not going to have a baby of any kind. You and she are too young to make babies, just as you and she are too young to understand why grown-up people get married and have sexual intercourse. Grown-up people get married because they have passionate feelings for each other, in a way that you and Maite don’t. You and she can’t feel passion because you are still too young. Accept that as a fact and don’t ask me to explain why. Passion can’t be explained, it can only be experienced. More exactly, it has to be experienced from the inside before it can be understood from the outside. What matters is that you and Maite should not have sexual intercourse because sexual intercourse without passion is meaningless.’

‘But is it horrible?’

‘No, it isn’t horrible, it is just an unwise thing to do, unwise and frivolous. Any more questions?’

‘Maite says she wants to marry me.’

‘And you? Do you want to marry Maite?’

‘No. I don’t ever want to get married.’

‘Well, you may change your mind about that when the passions arrive.’

‘Are you and Inés going to get married?’

He does not reply. The boy trots to the door. ‘Inés!’ he calls out. ‘Are you and Simón going to get married?’

‘ Shush !’ comes Inés’ angry retort. She re-enters the dormitory. ‘That’s enough talk. It’s time for you to go to bed.’

‘Do you have passions, Inés?’ asks the boy.

‘That is none of your business,’ says Inés.

‘Why don’t you ever want to talk to me?’ says the boy. ‘Simón talks to me.’

‘I do talk to you,’ says Inés. ‘But not about private matters. Now brush your teeth.’

‘I’m not going to have passions,’ the boy announces.

‘That is what you say today,’ says he, Simón. ‘But as you grow up you will find that the passions have a life of their own. Now hurry up and brush your teeth, and maybe your mother will read you a good-night story.’

Roberta, whom on the first day they took to be the owner of the farm, is in fact an employee like them, employed to oversee the workers, to supply them with rations and pay them their wages. She is a friendly person, well liked by all. She takes an interest in the workers’ personal lives and brings little treats for the children: sweets, biscuits, lemonade. The farm is owned, they learn, by three sisters known far and wide simply as the Three Sisters, elderly now, and childless, who divide their time between the farm and their residence in Estrella.

Roberta has a long conversation with Inés. ‘What are you going to do about your son’s schooling?’ she asks. ‘I can see he is a bright lad. It would be a pity if he ended up like Bengi, who has never been to a proper school. Not that there is anything wrong with Bengi. He is a nice boy, but he has no future. He will just be a farm labourer like his parents, and what kind of life is that, in the long term?’

‘Davíd went to a school in Novilla,’ says Inés. ‘It wasn’t a success. He didn’t have good teachers. He is a naturally clever child. He found the pace in the classroom too slow. We had to remove him and educate him at home. I am afraid that if we put him in a school here he will have the same experience.’

Inés’ account of their dealings with the school system of Novilla is less than wholly truthful. He and Inés had agreed to keep quiet about their entanglements with the authorities in Novilla; but evidently Inés feels free to confide in the older woman, and he does not intervene.

‘Does he want to go to school?’ asks Roberta.

‘No, he doesn’t, not after his experiences in Novilla. He is perfectly happy here on the farm. He likes the freedom.’

‘It’s a wonderful life for a child, but the harvest is coming to an end, you know. And running around on a farm like a wild thing is no preparation for the future. Have you thought of a private teacher? Or of an academy? An academy won’t be like a normal school. Maybe an academy would suit a child like him.’

Inés is silent. He, Simón, speaks for the first time. ‘We can’t afford a private tutor. As for academies, there were no academies in Novilla. At least no one spoke of them. What exactly is an academy? Because if it is just a fancy name for a school for troublesome children, children with ideas of their own, then we wouldn’t be interested — would we, Inés?’

Inés shakes her head.

‘There are two academies in Estrella,’ says Roberta. ‘They are not for troublesome children at all. One is the Singing Academy and the other is the Dance Academy. There is also the Atom School; but that is for older children.’

‘Davíd likes to sing. He has a good voice. But what happens in these academies besides singing and dancing? Do they hold proper classes? And do they accept such young children?’

‘I am no expert on education, Inés. All the families I know in Estrella send their children to normal schools. But I am sure the academies teach the basics — you know, reading and writing and so forth. I can ask the sisters if you like.’

‘What about the Atom School?’ he asks. ‘What do they teach there?’

‘They teach about atoms. They watch the atoms through a microscope, doing whatever it is that atoms do. That is all I know.’

He and Inés exchange glances. ‘We will keep the academies in mind as a possibility,’ he says. ‘For the present we are perfectly happy with the life we have here on the farm. Do you think we can stay on after the end of the harvest if we offer the sisters a small rental? Otherwise we will have to go through the rigmarole of registering with the Asistencia and looking for a job and finding a place to live, and we are not ready for that, not yet — are we, Inés?’

Inés shakes her head.

‘Let me speak to the sisters,’ says Roberta. ‘Let me speak to señora Consuelo. She is the most practical. If she says you can stay on the farm, then maybe you can give señor Robles a call. He offers private lessons and doesn’t charge much. He does it out of love.’

‘Who is señor Robles?’

‘He is the water engineer for the district. He lives a few kilometres further up the valley.’

‘But why would a water engineer give private lessons?’

‘He does all kinds of things besides engineering. He is a man of many talents. He is writing a history of the settlement of the valley.’

‘A history. I didn’t know that places like Estrella had a history. If you give us a telephone number I will get in touch with señor Robles. And will you remember to speak to señora Consuelo?’

‘I will. I am sure she won’t mind if you stay here while you look for something more permanent. You must be longing to move into a home of your own.’

‘Not really. We are happy with things as they are. For us, living like gypsies is still an adventure — isn’t it, Inés?’

Inés nods.