The flood of tears jerked Boetie back to the real predicament he was in.He reached out to touch her, but that seemed to bring on even louder sobbing. Boetie looked up into the sky for some help. How does one change gears from shocked to happy in one quick move? Pa had told him so many things about how to live his life. What to do and not to do, who to talk to and who not. Never forget your roots. Look after your brother. Keep your culture… But he never spoke to him about women. Jissi, he was lost. What should he do now? Just to stop her crying, man. He could handle anything but not a woman’s tears.
“Do you want me to get rid of it, Boetie?”
Now she was really losing the plot. His confusion melted into anger and he kicked at the dusty path. It wouldn’t be right to smack her. He wasn’t like Fanie. Not at all. Real men didn’t hit women. He shoved his fists into his pockets. At least her snivelling had stopped. He paced up and down between the rows of avo trees and noted the little brown hen with her brood of tiny chicks, scratching in the red sand. A magnificent rooster crowed a late morning, “cockadoodledoo.”
What the hell was he supposed to do now? Yes, they had done the engagement thing. Her family had insisted. But marriage was supposed to be ‘not anytime soon.’ Now she was up the spout. He hadn’t planned to be a father yet. Maybe he wouldn’t be good at it. There was stuff in his head he needed to sort out. This was her fault. She was careless man. She was fokken stupid sometimes. In fact most of the time. Maybe he should just call the whole thing off. His family didn’t exactly have a good track record of happy marriages.
…But it was his baba in her tummy. A smile began in the corners of his mouth. Maybe he was a bit happy. He sneaked a glance at her, as she stared out into the distance. Her cheeks were still wet and shiny. She was nogal pretty too. Hmmm… imagine being a Pa. He swallowed the hysteria building up in his throat and turned towards hers.