In the Flesh

Heavy almost fair-haired figure in almost a Montenegrin cap sizing up the relief on offer from the fans mounted on the pillar. A call out back first. Here he comes returned, the wonky hand-rail giving some alarm. The wife had seen his survey and parked herself beneath. (Five metres behind, no word had been exchanged, the old man not deigning to turn.) It appeared the man wanted another place, indoors perhaps where it might be cooler. No, the food order: one of them had mouthed something and immediate agreement. Out and back once more, this time the other side of the rail, granddad not trusting himself descending with the two plates of tahu goring. (Advertised on the placard by their table within a jagged capsule—POWER in bright red. Almost inedible sweetening.) A third time retracing his steps for the teh O, down from the platform this time and seat assumed opposite the Missus. One of the stern dark looks in their exchange had told the story of their marriage in an instant.

         From the beginning the form, the jaw-line and bearing had suggested Granddad Rade, of whom there was never a hint how he had raised such a depth of love in his eldest girl when like all Montenegrins it was the son George who was all his hope and joy. From the two or three photographs that had come down a good number of sightings here on the equator over these years.

         ….Ni with some time on her hands now in the new placement remarked yesterday that she would be reading the Qur’an and not thinking too much. Not the first time that impressive settling of mind has been advocated here.