Past Beaufort West Poem by Gert Strydom

Past Beaufort West, at Leeu-Gamka
my yellow BMW gets a flat tyre
and while I am looking
for a jack in the boot
at that god forsaken place
it’s extremely hot

and an old rusted white pickup
stops behind my car
and a big ghastly man
dressed in a blue overall with oil marks
walks up to me
while I lift the wheel out.

“Lad, I see you are from the Transvaal
and are certainly on your way to Cape Town? ”

Then he gives a dry cough
and his breath smells of brandy
and he says much softer:
“I have got a huge problem.
Santie, has to go back to Stellenbosch
and you can take her along.”

And still softer and somewhat dull:
“You are big enough
to be already screwing around.
She can pay for the trip
with her nice body.”

I am perplexed, dazed
and alone on my way to Summerset West,
just past Stellenbosch
and look at him
as if he is coming from the moon

and say that I will anyway
past that way
and I am studying nearby
and that she can travel with me, totally cost free

and then I see her
blonde, pretty, slim and she blushes
and I know that she overheard every single word
and I say hello to her and she blushes even more

and I carry her two suitcases, that look decent,
to the car’s boot
and she greets the man, her dad
who is divorced from her mother
who is living in Bellville
before we drive away
and the conditioner cools the inside of the car,
she loves Neil Diamond
whose songs are playing on the stereo system

and she’s dressed in a mini skirt
that rides up against her long slim legs
and she looks at me
with a sultry unholy light in her blue eyes
and I think: hell, what now?