1. We Start At Monks Inn
I’m lying on my bed in the room I share with my younger brother, staring up at the ceiling, my mind not really focused on anything in particular. Most of the preparations for my imminent conscription have been done. The items they told us to bring with have all been purchased and are neatly packed into a giant sports bag. It seems to weigh almost as much as I do. Inside it are sports shoes, thermal underwear, bottles of Brasso and Silver Polish, an assortment of toiletries including toilet paper, clothing, an iron, shoe polish and brushes, padlocks and a myriad of other things that are on a list that came with my call up papers.
Diskobolos, Kimberley it says. Ordnance Services Corps. Departure from Kings Park Rugby Stadium at 11am on Tuesday, 4th of August, 1987. My best friend Wayne had gone there 18 months prior to me and he told me that it was tough, but not as tough as the guys in the infantry had it. Be prepared to run a lot, he says.
For the past year I have dragged myself out of bed every morning at the break of dawn to do a beach run. I’m determined not to arrive in Diskobolos unfit. Wayne tells me that they pick on the unfit guys most of all. This worries me because I hate running. I hate it with a passion. We live in a flat on the southern beachfront. Literally two to three hundred meters from the water’s edge, depending on the tide.
I run on the beach sand in shoes, believing that this makes it harder, ergo I will be fitter come August. Sometimes Mom joins me on the run, but she always runs faster and further than I do, leaving me feeling like a bit of a failure. On the days that she doesn’t join me I tend to run better. It’s a stop-start affair. Run, walk, run, walk.
Wayne says that they run a 2.4km course every day during basics. I have no idea how far that is, or even if the route I am running along the water’s edge is anywhere near it. I run South anyway, huffing and puffing until I get to the North pier entrance to the Durban harbour. Then I turn around and run North to the West Street Groyne before turning South again to head back towards the Pickin Chicken restaurant where I start my run every day. Many years later I discover via Google Maps that this distance is about 5 kilometers, just over double the army’s “two comma four”.
The weather in Kimberley in winter is extremely cold, or so I’m told by the old timers who sit at the Pickin Chicken day in and day out, drinking endless pots of tea on the restaurant’s outdoor terrace. They say I’ll freeze my balls off. Have you got long john’s, they ask, seemingly concerned, but I see the smiles behind their sunglasses. They know I’m a mommy’s boy and they think I’ll probably end up slitting my wrists. I’m not concerned about what they think. I have been waiting for this call up for over a year since dropping out of college. I’m ready to go, no matter what. I want to make the most of it. Two years is only two years. I can handle it. Wayne did and he’s made of the same stuff I am.
We’re going out that night. Me, Wayne and one of his army buddies, Pete. They’re on yet another of their monthly passes from Pretoria, where they got stationed after basic training. I’ve noticed a change in Wayne since he went to the army. He’s brasher than usual and seems to think that he’s invincible, but I know that it’s just a front. He smokes now too and not just cigarettes. They arrive at my place a little after 7pm looking slightly glassy-eyed already. Wayne says hello to my parents and introduces Pete who comes from Westville. Larney suburb. Pete even has a car. Neither Wayne or me know how to drive that well. There’s no cars given to kids who grow up in Addington Beach. We walk everywhere we want to go. Which is probably why we’re all so skinny.
Pete’s car is a funny old thing his parent’s gave him for passing matric. I think it’s a Renault. Inside it smells funny. Like old socks and mint. We drive from Addington to a spot called The Med at a hotel not too far from where I live. It’s a night club with a dance floor that has lights underneath it and lots of seating booths. It’s not quite as plush as the night club I’m a member of, Nello’s. We pay a small couvert charge at the entrance to The Med and head inside. We’re looking for chicks. Both Wayne and Pete have money because they get paid in the army. I have enough for about 2 jugs of draught beer. Mom gave it to me before we headed out.
Inside the music is loud and it’s coming from a band. What kind of a disco is this, I wonder? I’ve heard the kids around the neighbourhood talk about The Med but I have never been here before. Nello’s is my scene because as a member you only pay R5 to get in there and then all your drinks are free, except for the mixers. They don’t have a liquor license at Nello’s so they get around it by giving the booze away for free but charging you for whatever you mix it with. I found out that mixing Cinzano with white wine is an effective way of getting very drunk for only R5. The Med is part of a hotel called The Killarney. They have a liquor license and they charge for their booze the way most hotels do. They charge a fair price.
The chicks at The Med are all the same. Cold. Unfriendly. Seemingly only want to dance with other girls. Or they already have boyfriends and aren’t interested in us at all. We spend a few hours in there anyway. Wayne says, let’s go next door to Monk’s. This place is shit. Me and Pete agree. We down the last of the beer in our glasses and walk out the door, collecting a stamp on the wrist as we go, because you never know, we might come back later.
Outside it’s surprisingly cold for a Durban night in July. Pete’s face seems to be getting very white to me. He says, Boys, this cold wind is going to fuck me up. I can’t feel my face. We should get inside quickly.
Monks Inn is a bar on another corner of the same hotel. It’s packed with young people, dressed in jeans and mostly black clothing. I have been here a few times before. I kind of like it. It’s very dark inside. Only some dim coloured light is coming from a small stage where a two piece band is singing covers of popular songs. It’s a semi-alternative scene, which is why many of the patrons are dressed in black.
I’m feeling a bit wasted. We went through three jugs of draught beer at The Med. Pete shoves a bottle of beer into my hand. No place to sit down here, all the tables are full, so we can’t order a jug. Bottled pints and standing room only it is for now. The band is pretty good. Hours pass and beers keep arriving. I’ve had too many beers and if I close my eyes I feel as if my body is on a giant swing. It makes me feel a bit sick, so I go to the toilet and throw up. I splash water on my face and walk back into the main area of Monks. The place seems even more crowded than before. How long was I in the toilet for? I can’t see Wayne or Pete anywhere. But suddenly there’s this blonde girl embracing me and the next thing I know she’s got her tongue in my mouth. This has never happened to me before, but I like it.
The band is still playing. I don’t remember Wayne and Pete leaving, but they’re nowhere to be seen. This girl’s name is Michelle and she is there with a friend named Lorraine who seems to be giving me the evil eye. They are both wearing all black outfits. The band has finished playing for the night and gradually Monks starts to empty out. Michelle has her own car and offers to drive me home. Lorraine is in the passenger seat and I’m in the back. It’s an old Datsun with torn vinyl seats. She drops me off outside the flats where I live and gets out to kiss me goodnight. It’s a long kiss. Lorraine presses the hooter.
Michelle gives me her number. Let’s meet up at Monks again next weekend, she says. I tell her that I am leaving for the army in less than 2 weeks time. That’s okay, she says. Call me. I float up to the fifth floor of the building, change out of my clothes and dart into dreamland. I’m 19 years old and I have never had an adult kiss before this moment. Why does this happen to me now? Of all times?
I’m awake early on Saturday morning. Never been able to sleep off a hangover. My clothes from the night before are lying next to my bed. I pick them up to put them in the washing basket in the family bathroom and I can smell her perfume on them. This halts me in my tracks. I inhale deeply and a part of my mind is suddenly in a different space. I’m trying to recall the events of the night before, but everything that led up to her kissing me is a blank. I don’t remember Wayne and Pete leaving, but I remember that kiss. It has engraved itself in my mind. In the pocket of my shirt there’s a piece of paper with her name and number on it. I put the paper into my cupboard and I put the shirt back in there too. Later on I’m holding it to my face, inhaling the lingering remnants of her perfume.
Saturday wears on. I’m putting off calling Michelle because there’s a doubting in me as to whether last night was real. What will I say to her? How will the conversation go?
I dial the number and a man answers.
I croak a Hi, can I speak to Michelle please? There’s a shout;
Michelle! Phone!
Then the man says to hold on. She comes on the line and says Hello?
My heart is pounding.
Hi, it’s me, Dallas. How are you?
Hi Dallas, I’m good. I wasn’t sure you’d call.
She sounds pleased to hear from me. We talk for a while. She tells me she lives on The Bluff, a working class suburb across the bay from where I am. I’m upstairs on the phone in my parent’s bedroom. Mom is downstairs. She picks up the downstairs phone.
Oh, sorry!
She puts it down again.
Just my Mom being nosy.
Michelle laughs. I know the feeling.
We talk some more and agree to meet at Monk’s again on Friday. She works during the week and doesn’t make it a habit to go out week nights. It’s a date then. We hang up.
I have one weekend left before I go to Diskobolos. At least I am going to have a girlfriend going into the army, but everybody says she will send me a Dear John. I don’t know what that is. My cousin tells me it’s a break up letter. Oh.
My cousin Drew is also from the Bluff. He has already finished his army service a few years ago and is studying to become a teacher at Edgewood College. He likes to party.
Be careful of these Bluff girls he says. They’ll either get pregnant on the first date or break your heart. Drew has had a few girlfriends break his heart. But I think he’s done his own heart breaking too. Drew is my hero.
I meet Michelle at Monks again on Friday night. This time she’s dressed in white jeans and a white top so that she stands out in the darkness of the bar. Lorraine is with her again, still dressed in black. She gives me a look. We get some drinks. The night passes quickly. I tell her I will write to her, so she gives me her address. Outside Monks the night air is cool and she kisses me goodbye. No lift home tonight. She has to go into work Saturday morning and is having an early night. I walk home alone.
