Tandia Read Online Free Page B

Nothing else mattered, not the pain, nothing; he was suffocating her and she was fighting to get enough air to stay alive.
    Suddenly, the hand over her mouth relaxed and the grotesque presence dismounted. Tandia remained very still. Panting, but very still, her eyes tightly closed. She was aware, for the first time, of the taste of blood in her mouth. It was the only thing that seemed real. She held on to it.
    The salty, normal taste of blood kept her from passing out. Would they kill her? Not if she didn't look. Not if they knew she hadn't seen their faces. Tandia, who had so often wondered whether her life was worth anything, suddenly knew she wanted to live.
    'Hey, Geldenhuis? Cmon, your turn. Nice tight pussy. A very recent virgin. Guaranteed only one owner!'
    'Don't use my name in front of the kaffir girl! I don't fuck kaffirs.'
    There was a moment's pause. 'Ja, is that so? How come then, you always like to watch?'
    'Cmon, hurry up, jong, it's already half past six. We got to report.' Nervous anger strained the second man's voice. 'We only came to pay our respects to old Patel!'
    The policeman who had raped her was breathing less heavily now, aware perhaps that he had upset his superior.
    He changed the subject. 'What's going to happen about your title fight with Gideon Mandoma now Patel's dead?'
    Geldenhuis didn't answer. 'Kom! Maak gou, jong! It's nearly bladdy sunrise!'
    Tandia felt the sudden downward pressure of a boot in the small of her back. 'Nice one! Her black arse looks like a hot cross bun.' She lay absolutely still, the gravel chips cut into her stomach and her arms pulled painfully as the handcuffs looped around the cross held her rigid. Her shift remained bunched above her waist. Tandia kept her eyes tightly shut even after she heard the soft click of the key and felt the handcuffs removed from her wrists and her ankles. She lay there as though dead, not a muscle moving. Inside her head she screamed, 'Please God, don't let them kill me!'
    Tandia felt the sudden downward pressure of the boot again, this time on the base of her neck. 'Don't open your eyes, kaffir, not for a long time, not for ten minutes, you hear?' It was the voice of the second man, the one called Geldenhuis. The pressure increased and her head was pushed into the ground. 'Hey! You! Kaffir! I asked you, do you hear?'
    'Yes, baas ,' she sobbed.
    The boot twisted into her neck, sending a sharp stab of pain down her spine. 'la dankie, baas!' the voice demanded. She felt his hand tug at her shift and pull it down over her thighs.
    'Yes, thank you, baas,' Tandia whimpered.
    'You report this you dead meat!'
    Tandia lay there for a long time. The sun came up and took the morning cold away but she kept her eyes shut. She was a kaffir, that at least had been decided.
    Tandia opened one eye. It focussed on a willy wagtail sitting on a half-fallen tombstone ten feet from where she lay. Cut into the pocked cement tombstone she read the words, 'Dearly beloved', but the remainder of the writing on the lopsided tombstone was covered with dry lichen.
    The willy's tail was going up and down, regular as a metronome. A tiny breeze caught and ruffled the white feathers on its breast. It cocked its head slightly and looked at her without curiosity. Then it flew away and rested on the temporary wooden cross on Patel's grave. But it didn't stay long; its tail only went up and down three or four times before it took off again. Maybe because of the incense? Can birds smell? Tandia didn't know.
    All the tears, the bitter child tears were over. The white man had decided for her. She was a stinking black kaffir who had had her buttocks parted by a white man's hands. Tandia's world crumbled. The small amount of self esteem she had harvested out of her childhood had come from her efforts at school. Now, with Patel dead, there would be no more school. She had been crushed, she was suddenly no better than the lowest black person. A stinking, dirty kaffir!
    Tandia lay very