Free Breeders by Arno Joubert Page A

screams Africa screams the smell
    of freedom and heather
    in the locked locations of the heart under siege  

    The child raises his fists against his father
    in the march of the generations
    who scream Africa scream the smell
    of justice and blood
    in the streets of his armed pride
    Fists like concrete and legs of rock

    The child is not dead
    neither at Langa nor at Nyanga
    nor at Orlando nor at Sharpeville
    nor at the police station in Philippi
    where he lies with a bullet in his head
    Where he lies necklaced and burnt

    The child is the dark shadow of the soldiers
    on guard with guns saracens and batons
    the child is present at all meetings and legislations
    the child peeps through the windows of houses and into the hearts of mothers
    Scavenges in the forests and plains, evermore the hunger pains
    the child who just wanted to play in the sun at Nyanga is everywhere
    the child who became a man treks through all of Africa
    the child who became a giant travels through the whole world
    Without a pass

    PS: I love you, Jake.

    “It’s beautiful,” Alexa said, looking up.  
    Jake shrugged. “I’m not into poetry like she was.”
    “Tell us about her,” Neil said.
    Jake shrugged again, throwing a leg across the armrest of the sofa, settling back. “Not much to say. She was beautiful.”
    “Did she have any hobbies?”
    “She was very . . . different from the other girls.”
    “Different how?”
    “I guess you could call her a flower power girl. She loved being in nature. She was a bit of a tomboy. She enjoyed hiking in the mountains and going diving for crayfish.” His mouth formed a zippered grin. “She was way tougher than me.”
    Neil nodded. The water had been damn cold. “Did she ever mention to you that she wanted to commit suicide?”
    Jake Petzer shook his head. “Everyone asks me that question. She wasn’t suicidal.”
    “Tell us about her friends.”
    “That’s easy. She didn’t have any.”
    “Why did she choose you as her friend?”
    The boy smiled shyly. “She said I reminded her of her dad.” He looked up. “He doesn’t like me much, you know?”
    Neil glanced at Alexa. He could hazard a guess why. Reminded her of her dad?  
    Alexa cleared her throat. “Jake, you must understand, Alida’s father is going through a tough time.”
    Jake waved his hand. “I know, I know. He’ll come around sometime. Alida’s mom liked me, though.”
    Alexa tapped her lips. “Did Eben know that you were in a relationship with his daughter?”
    The boy chuckled. “No way, he would have killed me.” He pursed his lips then slumped back in the chair. “Look, I don’t want to give you the impression that she was as clean as driven snow. She did some things that would have made her dad quite mad.”
    Alexa frowned. “What kind of things?”
    Jake kept quiet.  
    “Jake, answer the lady,” Marie Petzer said firmly.
    Jake glanced at his mother then sighed. “You know, drugs.”
    “Drugs? What kind?”
    “Everything. Pot, crack, heroin. There was some in her satchel. I took it out before Inspector Moolman arrived.”
    “Where’s it now?”
    “I flushed it down the toilet.”
    “Who gave it to her?”
    Jake held up his hands. “Now that I don’t know. She never told me either, although I asked her a couple of times.”
    “What else?”
    “She slept around, a lot.”
    “How do you know?”
    Jake chuckled. “What, you haven’t asked around town?”
    Neil frowned. “Asked who?”
    Jake shrugged. “Well, you could probably start with the innkeeper, dirty Uncle Henry.”
    “Henry Theron?” Alexa asked with a frown.
    Jake shrugged. “Wouldn’t hurt to try.”
    “You’ve told this to Inspector Moolman?” Neil asked.
    Jake shook his head vehemently. “No way, he’s stuck so deep up Uncle Eben’s ass, the de Vos family can do no wrong, according to him.”
    “Watch your language, young man,” Jake’s mother admonished.
    He sighed. “It’s the truth, Mom. They have their own dark