J.M. Coetzee - The Childhood of Jesus

THE CHILDHOOD OF JESUS

J. M. Coetzee was the first author to win the Booker Prize twice and was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2003. His work includes Waiting for the Barbarians, Life & Times of MichaelK, The Master of Petersburg, Disgrace and Diary of a Bad Year. He lives in Adelaide.

The Childhood
of Jesus

J. M. COETZEE

textpublishing.com.au

The Text Publishing Company
Swann House
22 William Street
Melbourne Victoria 3000
Australia

Copyright J. M. Coetzee 2013

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright above, no part of this publication shall be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

First published by The Text Publishing Company 2013

Jacket and page design by WH Chong
Typeset by J&M Typesetting

National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry:
Author: Coetzee, J. M., 1940
Title: The childhood of Jesus / by J. M. Coetzee.
Print ISBN: 9781922079701
Ebook ISBN: 9781922148070
Subjects: ChildrenFiction.
Fate and fatalismFiction.
Dewey Number: 823.914

For DKC

CHAPTER 1

THE MAN at the gate points them towards a low, sprawling building in the middle distance. If you hurry, he says, you can check in before they close their doors for the day.

They hurry. Centro de Reubicacin Novilla, says the sign. Reubicacin: what does that mean? Not a word he has learned.

The office is large and empty. Hot tooeven hotter than outside. At the far end a wooden counter runs the width of the room, partitioned by panes of frosted glass. Against the wall is an array of filing drawers in varnished wood.

Suspended over one of the partitions is a sign: RecinLlegados, the words stencilled in black on a rectangle of cardboard. The clerk behind the counter, a young woman, greets him with a smile.

Good day, he says. We are new arrivals. He articulates the words slowly, in the Spanish he has worked hard to master. I am looking for employment, also for a place to live. He grips the boy under the armpits and lifts him so that she can see him properly. I have a child with me.

The girl reaches out to take the boys hand. Hello, young man! she says. He is your grandson?

Not my grandson, not my son, but I am responsible for him.

A place to live. She glances at her papers. We have a room free here at the Centre that you can use while you look for something better. It wont be luxurious, but perhaps you wont mind that. As for employment, let us explore that in the morningyou look tired, I am sure you want to rest. Have you travelled far?

We have been on the road all week. We have come from Belstar, from the camp. Are you familiar with Belstar?

Yes, I know Belstar well. I came through Belstar myself. Is that where you learned your Spanish?

We had lessons every day for six weeks.

Six weeks? You are lucky. I was in Belstar for three months. I almost perished of boredom. The only thing that kept me going was the Spanish lessons. Did you by any chance have seora Piera as a teacher?

No, our teacher was a man. He hesitates. May I raise a different matter? My boyhe glances at the childis not well. Partly it is because he is upset, confused and upset, and hasnt been eating properly. He found the food in the camp strange, didnt like it. Is there anywhere we can get a proper meal?

How old is he?

Five. That is the age he was given.

And you say he is not your grandson.

Not my grandson, not my son. We are not related. Herehe takes the two passbooks from his pocket and proffers them.

She inspects the passbooks. These were issued in Belstar?

Yes. That is where they gave us our names, our Spanish names.

She leans over the counter. Davidthats a nice name, she says. Do you like your name, young man?

The boy regards her levelly but does not reply. What does she see? A slim, pale-faced child wearing a woollen coat buttoned to the throat, grey shorts covering his knees, black lace-up boots over woollen socks, and a cloth cap at a slant.

Dont you find those clothes very hot? Would you like to take off your coat?

The boy shakes his head.

He intervenes. The clothes are from Belstar. He chose them himself, from what they had to offer. He has become quite attached to them.

I understand. I asked because he seemed a bit warmly dressed for a day like today. Let me mention: we have a depository here at the Centre where people donate clothing that their children have outgrown. It is open every morning on weekdays. You are welcome to help yourself. You will find more variety than at Belstar.

Thank you.

Also, once you have filled in all the necessary forms you can draw money on your passbook. You have a settlement allowance of four hundred reals. The boy too. Four hundred each.

Thank you.

Now let me show you to your room. She leans across and whispers to the woman at the next counter, the counter labelled Trabajos. The woman pulls open a drawer, rummages in it, shakes her head.

A slight hitch, says the girl. We dont seem to have the key to your room. It must be with the building supervisor. The supervisors name is seora Weiss. Go to Building C. I will draw you a map. When you find seora Weiss, ask her to give you the key to C-55. Tell her that Ana from the main office sent you.

Wouldnt it be easier to give us another room?

Unfortunately C-55 is the only room that is free.

And food?

Food?

Yes. Is there somewhere we can eat?

Again, speak to seora Weiss. She should be able to help you.

Thank you. One last question: Are there organizations here that specialize in bringing people together?

Bringing people together?

Yes. There must surely be many people searching for family members. Are there organizations that help to bring families togetherfamilies, friends, lovers?

No, Ive never heard of such an organization.

Partly because he is tired and disoriented, partly because the map the girl has sketched for him is not clear, partly because there are no signposts, it takes him a long time to find Building C and the office of seora Weiss. The door is closed. He knocks. There is no reply.

He stops a passer-by, a tiny woman with a pointy, mouse-like face wearing the chocolate-coloured uniform of the Centre. I am looking for seora Weiss, he says.

Shes off, says the young woman, and when he does not understand: Off for the day. Come back in the morning.

Then perhaps you can help us. We are looking for the key to room C-55.

The young woman shakes her head. Sorry, I dont handle keys.

They make their way back to the Centro de Reubicacin. The door is locked. He raps on the glass. There is no sign of life inside. He raps again.

Im thirsty, whines the boy.

Hang on just a little longer, he says. I will look for a tap.

The girl, Ana, appears around the side of the building. Were you knocking? she says. Again he is struck: by her youth, by the health and freshness that radiate from her.

Seora Weiss seems to have gone home, he says. Is there not something you can do? Do you not have awhat do you call it?a llave universal to open our room?