Page 28 - WTP Vol. XIII #1

Rangton (continued from preceding page)
his lips as the rain pours outside. ~
It is Johanna who finds him work. He has gone to her, knocking at the kitchen door, waiting for that smile of hers, saying he is here now, is free and living here. She recommends him for restoration work that needs to be done after the fire. For more than a year he works on the town hall and other public buildings.
~
He is proud in his freedom, proud in his work. He greets people as he walks in the street, stops and talks to others, with no fear of curfew, with no fear of gatherings. He joins in the town’s military parades, brings his own sword, his own gun. He sees himself as a citizen, and when he is not paid for a job he has done, he takes the man to court for the fairly insub- stantial sum of 11 guilders. The man is his landlord, who countersues for the amount of 24 guilders, saying Rangton has not paid rent in six months. But Rangton does not stand down. He tells the court that there is no contract, and that the room does not lock. The court finds in his favour, and he is confident, feels his worth, this is what it is to be free.
~
He moves to another room in another house. It is no bigger than before, but the door locks. He has no chairs. His friends sit on the floor. They pass around
a bottle, laugh, hush one another when they get too loud. All night people are coming and going, others piss out the window or into empty bottles. In the cor- ner his prize cock scratches in its cage. They are play- ing cards, and he knows that he is drunk, that he has had too much arak, that he must quit, but he is unable to. Always this trouble, unable to stop when he must.
When he wakes in the morning there are people asleep on the floor, there is vomit, the door standing wide open. His sword is gone, stolen or lost in a bet, he cannot recall. His body hurts, his head, he goes out into the street, away from the strangling stink of the room, spitting into the street, feeling sick. Nearby a sow walks past, her teats dragging in the filthy mud.
~
He dies in early March of 1720 in a room belonging to Cornelis van Daalen, owner of Dwars-in-de-Weg farm. He is found perhaps in his bed, under his blanket with his gun beside him, by a friend or neighbour, some- one passing by.
~ These his possessions at death:
1 flintlock gun
1 bedstead
1 sealed chest
1 sealed carpenters’ chest 1 new blanket
1 torn blanket
1 mattress with kapok cushions, some old clothes and linen without value
1 small pan
7 assorted planes
1 small adze
1 small saw
1 wooden triangle
1 wooden rule
1 oilstone
1 small basket
1 steel vise
2 tobacco pouches
2 chisels
8 packs of playing cards
1 bird cage
~
He has never remarried, has no children. Despite his freedom, this makes his former master his heir. Since Elsevier is deceased, it is Johanna who inherits Rang- ton’s possessions when he dies. Ten days after his death she begs leave of her husband to visit Europe, taking her slave woman with her. She does not return to the Cape, remaining ignorant of where Rangton may have been buried and what, if any, markers indi- cate his place of rest.
Jennings is a South African author. She has written novels, a memoir, a short story collection, and poetry collection. Her novel An Island was longlisted for the Booker Prize in 2021. Her latest novel, Crooked Seeds, was published around the world in 2024. She is a writer-in-residence with LEAP, Stellenbosch University, and co-found- er of The Island Prize, which helps to mentor debut novelists from Africa and the diaspora.
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