Black Butterflies Page #2

blacks can't grasp

allegorical writing.

Shall we pray?

Lord, we thank you for what

we are about to receive.

In Jesus' name, amen.

- Amen.

- Smells good.

It's Rooibok.

Abraham shot it himself.

Dr. Jonker, you don't honestly believe

that black people are stupid, do you?

Intellectually inferior.

So by implication, you regard

the afrikaners as a superior race.

We were chosen by god

to lead this country.

Blood river proved that.

The nazis paid dearly for their

presumption of being a superior race.

If you think you can compare

the afrikaner to the nazis,

you're way off the mark,

Mr Cope.

Can we not just eat

with our differences?

Oh, Pieter called yesterday.

He wanted me to get a ticket for you

and Simone back to Johannesburg.

This is not the time, Pa.

I think you should go,

give it another try.

So, uh, Uys.

You working on something

interesting right now?

I'm doing an afrikaans translation

of king lear.

He had a terrible time with his

daughters too, that man.

Excuse me.

She is in her old room, boss.

I didn't mean to upset you.

You take pleasure in upsetting me.

It's mutual, wouldn't you say?

I dedicated my book to you, and you

didn't even tell me what you thought of it.

I'm not even sure you read it.

It's me in those words, Pa.

Don't you want to know who I am?

I know who you are.

You are your mother.

Is that why you hate me?

Ingrid.

We need to find peace between us.

You all right?

These yours?

When my oma died,

our father put us here.

This is where he put us...

In the servant's quarters.

Why here?

Because we didn't have shoes.

Ingrid.

You're beautiful.

Don't let anyone

ever tell you otherwise.

Anybody?

I'll have a glass.

- Can I read while you write?

- Hm, be my guest.

Dinner has arrived.

Oh, that is beautiful.

Ingrid, the flesh is in the tail.

You have not lived if you haven't

sucked the juice from a crayfish head.

Jan, you're a true afrikaner.

You'll try some head, won't you?

Good head.

Will you pass me the wine, please?

There's a desert in my soul.

Maurice says there's a new nightclub

called Darryl's.

Why don't we all go tonight?

- That's for delinquents, Ingrid

- Oh, I thought that's what we were.

A letter arrived yesterday from

Nkosi in Paris.

How did he manage to get out?

Mike hid him in the boot of his car,

took him to the Botswana border.

He swam the river,

dodged a few crocodiles,

and flew from Gaborone.

He enjoy Paris?

The women there love black men.

Is there garlic in this mayonnaise, Uys?

Uys puts garlic in everything, darling.

Kiss me.

Why did you do that?

- We're not married, Jack.

- We're living together.

So because I share your bed, I'm not allowed

to have feeling for other man? Is that it?

Sexual feelings?

I can't help my feelings.

What, are you telling me you want

to sleep with Jan? Is that what you saying?

All I want is a home, Jack.

That's all I've ever wanted,

just a place to feel safe.

I can't remember when last I had that.

Jesus christ.

You're nothing.

You're less than nothing.

- I'm leaving in the morning

- I don't want you to go.

- Then marry me!

- Marry you?

There's a thousand reasons

why I can't marry you.

- Name me one!

- My divorce isn't finalized.

That's a technicality.

Give me another reason, a real reason!

It's a reasonable question,

considering you're f***ing me!

Don't turn your back on me!

- Do you mind? Irma's trying sleep.

- F*** Irma!

You've woken up Simone,

you idiots.

Perhaps she's just trying to explain

the theater of the absurd to us, Jack.

Go back to bed, Uys.

- You need to calm down.

- Don't tell me what to do!

You're not my father!

Thank god.

We'll all be off in the morning.

- I don't want you to leave.

- You do!

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah,

Run away.

Remember the poem, Jack?

Remember the running man on the beach?

Yeah, Run away,

You pathetic little man!

"Grain, little grain of sand,

pebble rolled in my hand,

pebble thrust in my pocket,

A keepsake for a locket.

Baby that screams from the womb.

Nothing is big in this tomb.

Quietly laugh now and speak.

Silence in dead-end street.

Little world round, Earth blue,

a granule I make out of you.

House with a door and two slits,

a garden where everything fits.

Small arrow feathered into space.

Love fades away from its place.

Carpenter seals a coffin that's bought.

I ready myself for the naught.

Small grain of sand is my

word, my breath.

Small grain of naught is my death."

Hello, Pa.

- Where's your sister?

- Ingrid?

You read this.

Most of it is exaggerated, Pa.

- You know what reporters are like.

- Why do you openly disagree...

- ...with my political views?

- Because I do.

But you don't say that to a reporter

from the Sunday times.

Are you mad?

Ingrid.

Come sit and listen to me nicely.

Anna, go to your room please.

Have you no respect for me?

I respect you very much, Pa.

Then why do you do

these things?

These people are only interested

in you because of me.

Do you realize that?

Why do you always try

and make me feel worthless?

Ingrid.

Grow up.

You can't do this to me.

It'll only be for a few months.

A few months is a lifetime.

I'll come with you to Natal.

I'll bring Simone.

I'd love to meet Helen.

- The boys wouldn't understand.

- You think children don't know...

...what's going on? They're children;

They know everything.

Ingrid.

Take it easy.

Waitress.

More wine.

The bus is full.

You must take the next one.

Please, I'm going to be late.

- Get off.

- But there are so many seats open.

- Let him have a seat.

- Whites only.

- Idiot!

- Get off my bus, you stupid communist b*tch.

Get your hands off her.

Bastard!

It's me you want to leave,

isn't it?

These last months have been

extraordinary, wonderful.

And I haven't been able to work.

You drain me, Ingrid.

Your timing is all messed up.

How do you mean?

You will come back, won't you?

I love you.

Jack.

Aren't you supposed to be at work?

I resigned.

- What?

- So I could see you off.

Please don't go.

Please don't go.

I have to.

You can't do this to us.

I'll call.

Hey, go.

Hi, darling.

Come here.

Come.

Come.

Hi, my darling.

Christ, Ingrid, you look like death.

I think I'm coming down with some flu.

Ingrid!

Don't be a stranger.

Come on up.

Jack's been trying to get hold of you.

Our phone's still disconnected.

Still no job?

I'm doing some proofreading

for human & Rousseau.

It's freelance,

But it pays the rent.

Sorry I'm late.

I picked up a puncture outside Colesburg.

- You have company.

- Eugene Maritz, Ingrid Jonker.

It's an honor.

I know your work intimately.

"Intimately"?

I mean, I know your work well.

Is that your manuscript?

Is that your latest novel?

Yes.

Sorry.

I'll leave the two of you to

resurrect afrikaans literature.

I'd love to speak with you

more sometime.

Well, when the iceman is done with you,

I'll be down on the beach.

Don't even think about it.

Ingrid!

Jack's on the phone!

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