Page 82 - The Mending Season

across the face with the back of her hand, as if she wanted to slap the word out ofher. Nothing and no one seemed to move or breathe for a moment. The ball rolled back to my feet - the only noise we heard.“Who are you calling a —”Veronica started, barely catching her breath, but the sound of Mevrou van der Westhuizens whistle drowned the word and brought us out of the trance imposed by our collective state of shock.“Veronica!”Veronica ignored the teacher.“Veronica! You will look at me when Im speaking to you.Come here right now!”Beths mouth was slightly open, her eyes welling up, herhand on the cheek Veronica had slapped. “You bitch!” she said, but too softly to stir a fight. Like she only said it to regain her dignity, but hoped that Veronica would ignore it.Veronica moved so close to her that their breasts and toes touched. “Who are you calling a bitch? HP. Hmm?”The teacher ran towards them, hands clapping furiously, the whistle bouncing offher chest. She stretched both arms in front of her, palm to palm, like a referee at a boxing match. Her arms parted the two girls.“What on earth is the matter with you, Veronica?”“Miss, she said ‘kaffir’!” Veronica responded, incredulous, pleading.“She did not!” the teacher insisted. “Elizabeth would never say such a thing.”I thought, well surely she heard Beth say “bitch”- she was close enough to hear.“What is wrong with you, Veronica? Where do you think you are? In the townships? This is not an ANC march!”Beth burst into tears, like a victim grateful to be rescued.Veronica stepped further back, hands on her hips, a woman demanding respect from her neighbour, ready for battle. She82