Translated Accounts (25 page)

white ash, charred wood in lumps, blackened, disfigured; encircled by the bodies. And voices, mutterings. I heard them, saw no other possibility, none other existed. This by the outer perimeter,
burning waste, and wood and dangerous for some, us, I knew it and by the fire was a smell

They were there at the fire, rain drizzled, the breeze only slight. I had become aware of a whining and moaning, it was all about me. What was it. I stopped walking. The girl was not now with
me. Where these men might be. Who was with me. I listened, uncertain of the direction. These sounds were not human, not the girl, not those who were at the fire, and so walking, walking, and I
reached the end of there and thought of the river, there was a river, and a footbridge, and I crossed this footbridge, and to the other side, being anywhere now, away, no other possibility, none
other existed.

The security was pointing at his penis. This is the enemy, he said, why do you blame me? It is it. I blame it too. Look, I do not even call it him! He smiled and watched us,
holding it out so. It was not erect. He gripped the girl by the back of the head and inserted it into her mouth, it too soft to push. He now could have held her but did not. The girl’s father
retched, he retched again and drops of vomit were on his chin and upper lip. We saw also that he urinated. Another security shook his head, wagged his finger at the girl’s father and said to
us, He is able to bear this, he is not a man, a man would have killed himself. Instead he messes on the ground, messes in his trousers. What kind of people are you, are you people.

A woman nearby whispered, and with surprise in her voice grappling with an answer, They do not think we are human beings. They do not think we are human beings. This is why, they do not think
what we are.

Another of the securitys heard her and knocked at her between the shoulders. She fell to the ground. None went to her. She lay, she was stunned, she stared back, seeing us but also the staring,
staring of ourselves, now taking the weight of her body on the elbow, daring not to move. Not even move, the position of her head, she could not accomplish that, that it might antagonise men
further. And so the violence of the act perpetrated on the girl was not witnessed by her.

each of us

space

each of us, the girl too.

Afterwards the security cleaned his penis on her hair, looking to us. He was thinking of something, what he might say, if he might say something to us. I did not see him looking to his
colleagues until another had stepped forwards. Now he smiled and called something which I did not hear. Behind me securitys were laughing, quietly done. The second now opening his trousers,
erection was there, moving to the girl, stepping as to pass the woman on the ground. From behind another security shouted at her, You are not good enough. You see that.

Here the woman began banging her head on the stonework. I heard the noise of this, the thumping, and if she screamed, I do not know. I would think of what she had said, if she was mistaken,
perhaps, if this could be something she believed, perhaps not, I would think about it, considering it only if later

passage from my mouth, my stomach

but how long since I had eaten, later

it is also a numbness, below the jaw, upper neck

our eyes are open

And in that section to the top of the stairs, the smell having altered. It was a germicide. I was alert, my upper body now settled from the tensing and from behind the sound,
the tread of a security whom I was acquainted. Surprising to me, thinking he was gone, perhaps dead. If someone had told me he had been so taken, perhaps so, such rumours, perhaps one had been
whispered. Now here in this section four securitys, and seeing this one. He did not recognise me. He walked, hands clasped together, a bold walk confident walk. No weapon visible as without fear,
he it was, certainly, encroaching into my space as I into his, yes, I saw his recognition. The information was to myself. I had known him since selection days, his, mine, boyhood. If there is
hatred, what it may be. We speak of it. How that we do.

We continued, staring ahead only and the odour here was strong, sweet-smelling. My body ached, we all of us. Before me a woman tripped at the heels of the man to the front, catching onto the
woman to her side, mumbling mumbling. In falling the mumbling did not cease, nor afterwards, rising onto her feet, clutching at her bag, glancing only one moment sideways and I saw her eyes,
something there to myself. I listened to her mumbling, it was not prayers, I could not hear the words. Her voice was accented, if from way south southeast, it is possible. What it was of this
woman, something for me, I could not think, yet something, I knew it, I had seen her before this period, where I had seen her, if I had. But we see faces, and this odour clouding, sweetish,
thickly, it might choke me, also other voices, ravings, and children also were there. A rush of words now from the woman, the securitys hurrying us, she looking to one side and here I was and she
frowned, if seeing someone, looking to me but not seeing me, perhaps into herself, how that she survived, marvelling that she did so, yes, and such a thing was possible. She looked again to myself,
looking to my body. It is true that we see the bodies, we see sinews, muscles there, we see all strengths, if there are weakened parts, what futures may be. Now this woman, her arms as pencils,
carrying her one bag only bag, staring ahead, lifting it lightly, bag of air. I saw she was older, her neck also thin, stalk of a flower, dancer, the skull shape, her head, forty years old I think.
She kissed me, looking to my body, kissing me, felt for my genitals, moving from me, looking sideways.

Others would listen on behalf of them, and the one whom I was acquainted, dangerous man, I knew it well, I knew also he soon would be dead, and in the pit there all in maggots. Maggots may be
good. He would meet maggots, hullo, how are you, he would meet them.

What.

All, yes, I hoped so. I was glad, so, if it may be, all of these lives, lifetimes.

I had entered the area of his vision. When he looked to me it was something, information so conveyed. What was it, wanting something. What I could give him, if something could be given him, what
it could be.

This was a time, he did not acknowledge me. Now that he not done so it would not be done, the secret created by himself.

It was the interim period. The woman was at my side now. I placed my arm onto her shoulders, if she might have fallen. The security had watched this. His hands clasped behind, shoulders stiffly
held and legs also at ease as at attention, security man who was military man.

Nothing may be said. I say this now as then, yes, as then, I have said it. It was into my memory, I had killed him. I do not know. If my acquaintance with him had been from childhood,
infanthood, it is true. If he was a torturer, he was.

What is justify

Some were pushed on entry by securitys, they by the door, he and with the others, showing no malice but absently. Now he walked away from them and there was the confidence, what, swaggering, and
seeing the dancer-woman, she was by myself, and her mumbling as we entered, her hand now clutching my clothes so that I had difficulty in walking, could not dislodge her, I tried to but she stayed
by me and her mumbling mumbling if soon it would be raving until quietened, the securitys rendering her quiet as such people they do so, making silence as they do so. Another woman now in from the
door. She was staring, to here, there, searching those to come and now making space. It was for myself, that I might sit by herself. I did not look to her but she saw that I understood and was
waiting. She was bigger. I looked for the dancer-woman, sitting somewhere. The bigger woman allowed space beside her, I could not delay, so, now, sitting with her. Moments passed. The bigger woman
placed her hand onto mine, pressing, she lifted it, she stared at it. I drew my knees up, rested my head there. Later night had fallen, she moved onto her side, she had a covering, pulling this
over herself and later further space into her and allowing herself near to myself so that I lay by her and onto her, my front onto her, she pushing backwards that we rested, so, the covering to me
and her hand reaching behind and I had arousal, raising her skirt and opening my trousers, pushing my penis in between her thighs, she settling there, pulling it, and I could move to inside her,
her flesh enclosing me, tugging, and my ejaculation would come and my fingers were gripping her. I stayed inside her and was sleeping.

When I was awake the dancer-woman was there, not far from us, her face revealing nothing. Two elderly women were by her. Others also were there. Soon two securitys came, it was for this
dancer-woman. One took her wrist, leading her. She was docile. The security I had known from boyhood days returned by the doorway but now followed these others who took the dancer-woman. I could
recall his father many months ago living at one section, how he would look to others, terror, suspicion, what were their thoughts, those of him, towards him, father of him, now glancing this way
that way, if we had seen into his mind, what was inside there, thoughts of himself. He knew of my earlier acquaintance with his son, casting it irrelevant. At the outset he spoke with me but
becoming silent quite soon and I saw that talk of his old district brought thoughts of his son who now was known for a fashion of brutality, spasms in his head, I saw it, how his son was a
torturer, if he might discard these thoughts but could not they so persisted until he embraced them, I saw it, yes, he was scared, but also I saw he gloated, if he himself so was respected. Of
course. Why they should not, his son is a great butcher, sees all people, weighing them, seeing his own father also and weighs him, he cannot help this, is this skin rough, does it conceal meat,
meat that is only knotted muscle.

What had happened to the father. Months had passed since my time in that section.

I knew that the security looked to myself. I wondered that he saw me, recognised me, of course, that I am one human being. The light was bad but I knew it. And what was for myself, what to come.
The twisted brains of these people are into our heads. The children learn to hate. The boys become responsible but the mark of this is the extent of that hate. They become capable of greater
violence, torture. The more responsible from adolescence is the extent of the torture they may carry out. In considering torture, what torture may be. Brains cannot scream. I have brains. I only
nod. I know what these people can do. The dancer-woman was returned walking to our room, the elderly women making space for her, she looking to the floor by her feet, neither left nor right until
lowering herself down. I knew that the bigger woman also was watching, would know I was not sleeping.

What girl with me? She would not share with me. My bed. I said that. She had shared my bed then no longer. I do not know why. She

she is woman he is man, I am he, he is man, is not woman, we differ one from another. I do not know. Yes. Continued as intimate. Sharing confidences, secrets of herself. Myself not myself,
secrets are not easily shared. She would whisper to me late in the evening. I watched her laughing. It was that night with the others I left the room. She was laughing then, yes. The foreign
journalist saw me leave, he followed me. You are unlike these others, he said.

Why is that? I said.

You are your own self, he said, own person.

Something, I cannot remember. I stopped then with him. Why speak to me like this. I said, Are you a fool? Surely you must be.

But he had the confidence. He smiled to me. I could have killed him then I could have killed him, had to turn from him, I could not have concealed it. I thought to tell him outright as I had
learned. Yes had been taught, as he said. But if so he would have used it, for such a thing he would have waited and waited, it is what he wanted. Yes he goaded, this was goading from him. Friend,
he said and I turned again to him, laughed into his face, Am I your friend?

Yes, he said.

No.

But I am your friend.

You are not my friend.

I could be your friend, if I could be.

You are the fool, doing such injustice to us. You do not understand, cannot, will not learn. It is you.

Yes he was the fool and I could have killed him. Not then. I did not say then. But what account is this? I can return over everything. Tell me? What is the detail required? If I know I can speak
of it, I state only the truth.

What else, what else is there?

Not now, not for myself, for us, speaking of we, all of we, or us.

The other girl also, I can speak of her. The conversation was then behind me, involving three securitys alongside the other, and the foreign journalist also present. It too turned upon the
subjection of women, and of the three the one who spoke in whispers was the more forceful. And this was a surprise to other listeners, we outside the group. He said that each time he looked into
the mirror and saw himself he grew an erection, and he repeated this with gesture, making gesture. Not secretly but for anyone in vision to see.

The three securitys were laughing, slapping his shoulder, he was a good fellow. The foreign journalist also. He was there but had moved that he might appear distanced from them. For our sake.
That is how I see it. He was not shamed. He required a separation, themself himself, but was not shamed. I do not think so. Yet he it was should have been taken into consideration by us, marked as
the object of our greater caution.

These securitys had not that regard for him. He was of them. Perhaps not of them, but not of us, certainly.

The space was confined, none having the option but to listen, and their gestures. Of course women, children, also elderly women. All. How could these men not know this. Yes arrogance that they
should continue but what form, what form is this arrogance, surely the irony of such arrogance? This was not normal arrogance, securitys or men, I saw other forms. What was it, if something other,
I do not know