Translated Accounts (5 page)

I saw one woman then looking to myself, the child holding her hand also looking to me, she thought I would not see but in her mind

She and not the other woman.

But no, none there had regard for me. The old man did not look to me. Who was I, if a colleague, he knew it did not know it, these were meaningless times for him, his people are
killed, new people come, babies are into existence, what their names may be, what is their gender, they have none they are babies, babies live or die, as children, boys or girls, live or die, men
and women, elderly people, some live some are dead, colleagues not colleagues, it is continuation only, what are human beings, this planet Earth

the women hated me.

I do not know respect, we do things, respect, respect may be for different things. The women had no reason. What reason could they have had, none. If I had not

I must have the baby, give the baby to me, it is best, quickly. The women were staring. I said, It is best, hurry. I strode to the baby and gestured from it to the woman, the
two men now were gone, the boy with them, leading them. They had minutes, I do not know,

and banging banging, to the door, and noises outside it.

The elderly man had a covering now over his shoulders, also he was looking to the fireside, the child now by her mother, holding her hand her hand round her leg, holding onto
her, looking from her to the other woman all now one to another, worried what would happen, worried worried, for the boy, fearful, fearful, if he would be safe, what would happen to him, saving the
foreigner who so must be saved, of course, we would save him, all would save him, man such as he, in our country for we, ourselves, it is we he is for in our country and was to be saved. It was
early for myself in this town, we had come only days before. I was out walking, returning to our house, there were obligations, I would confront these, yes

Banging banging, the securitys at the door, more noises now and the woman, and I strode to the baby and gestured from it to herself, giving it to me, little thing, slippery
thing fighting from me and startled looks, who was I, this big man, monster. I pointed to the plates all things on the table and the woman went to there as again the door was thumped and more
noises now outside I heard them. The baby was in my arm now, crook of my arm, I held it, her head safely. I have my own daughter and could hold babies, now opening the door, it being pulled
backwards by them. They were not prepared for this. I said nothing to them, just watchful as anyone, if in these circumstances. The older one from before, with another, stood there, they looked to
myself, and he said, So this is where you are.

Other securitys were through the house and one was to the old man who stared only to the fireside, into it.

This is your family, said one of them, gestures to the baby. He is your son? I could not speak. And your little girl, gesturing to the child, this is a fine family.

I said something to them, perhaps if what they wanted, I might have asked them, laughing at me give me give me give me! The woman cried out but she was by the table and did not
move, securitys with her there. Yes we can take the baby, said that same one also smiling, but babies, we have enough babies. What else do you have for us? Who is your wife? Now looking to the
women, a step to the women, looking to their faces and to my face. You are not old enough for these women, where is your woman she is a girl. What woman, who is yours, two of them. You people have
many wives. The securitys smiled. These are your children? You are younger. Silence, myself, saying nothing. Your son? Becoming impatient, if to say daughter, what they would do I do not know I
could not think only that I felt now the anger was in me, my throat now, it was that anger now in my throat, choking it back, I held the baby, knowing its fear, it would be looking at me, fearful,
to scream at me, scream. My mother has been dead five years past, my father six years. So much. None cares about my mother and my father. How they should, why. I saw the baby now, not screaming,
curious, and I saw him also who was from before, one youth of these, bayonets, these eyes, what are these eyes, looking, looking. What else do you have for us? Your mother, I said. When I was hit
then. We do not want your jokes, give something else to me. Your father and behind me the woman. The baby was in the crook of my arm é º ô § | . •»A¶†
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to the next one to another one to another

No she did not live. Of course she did not live, these disappearances, himself also, and the boy who disappeared, if we can say, we cannot

but people can be safe

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no, here was curfew, always curfews if not that evening, I was on the bridge and they passed me these two fellows, it was these two, I recognised them, artist or lawyer and our
guest in our country I heard their whispering, breathless, older in age, what age, they were hurrying and breathless, talking together, I did not know this area until later. The bridge truly was a
communal point. I was walking, early days in this town, I enjoyed this walking alone. Yes, also a meeting place for young people, if young women were there, they might be, meeting together. Across
from there was a small square and these two fellows now were hurrying and when they reached that other side I heard the noise from behind

securitys, these two fellows. Yes I was alert, yes, hearing babies, crying of babies. Ahead I could see these fellows veer off to the left end of the square, down the passageway
there. Not far from the top, them thumping on a door, quickly vanishing inside. If they were not thumping. If they were it was mildly, not loud at all, for the sound of it had come to me as though
through fog. It is this therefore that I think the thumping was controlled, perhaps a knock. The pounding from behind and that one man dashed past who was a colleague, murdered, he is running and
is running to be murdered by pistols and around the first corner but pursued in moments by the securitys I should say seven, carried weapons, rifles, pursuing the individual, disappearing from
view, disappearing, yes, forever. Silence. My imagination says scuffling. Until then I heard the shots, five in counting. Very soon the several reappeared. Of course I acted as though unconcerned,
left hand in my trouser pocket, my right swinging at my side, keeping the rhythm, with my left leg, and through my mind an image, an old experience, in the early days a boy like myself, he did not
know how to march, he was like clockwork, faltering however, clockwork which was breaking down, required rewinding, we were very new. He did not know. His left arm went with his left leg, his right
with his right, right arm to right leg, and I recollect his shoulders, how his shoulders moved, he was concentrating hard to keep these limbs synchronised for it was unnatural, and moving his
shoulders in such a manner was an aid for him. It took him many days before he found the natural marching expression but his colleagues, including myself, we never allowed him to forget. He had a
good humour, he laughed with us. Nevertheless, we should have stopped it long before, I think, but it is always the way. What is it we are to do, making decisions, I was early also there and making
these decisions and now when I continued I heard the securitys coming behind me and of course I could not turn around, they were chattering, some laughter, all quiet. They had noticed me and to
lone individuals they paid attention. I hoped soon they would pass, had slowed my pace to that purpose. However, yes, I was scared, it goes without saying. I could walk˙. ˚. ,. / 9/ >/
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I moved inside, the woman shutting the door. I said, I must have the baby, give the baby to me, quickly. The women were staring. I strode to the baby and gestured from it to the
woman, the mother, Say to her.

not paid me paid me no heed,

You step outside now. The old man had to step outside now also, elderly, trade unionist man and I also. The baby was from me the women were not outside kept inside the house
also the child, girl also, this girl who was looking, if she is a child why she does look as she looks, if she is not a girl, girls look like this, they look to men, she is no girl, woman. Yes, I
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