Kitchen Boy, by Jenny Hobbs

Kitchen Boy, by Jenny Hobbs. Random House Struik Umuzi. Cape Town, South Africa 2011. ISBN 9781415200971 / ISBN 978-1-4152-0097-1

Kitchen Boy, by Jenny Hobbs. Random House Struik Umuzi. Cape Town, South Africa 2011. ISBN 9781415200971 / ISBN 978-1-4152-0097-1

The action of the story of 'Kitchen Boy' has been placed by Jenny Hobbs in the lead-up to his death and the funeral itself, and the memories of him that are prompted in the minds of his family, friends, and others who knew him.

Jenny Hobbs  

From the time he learnt to scrum in barefoot boy knots with mercurochrome scabs on their roasties, it was the lead-up to the kick-off that J. J. loved best. The pep talk in the changing room about team spirit. The captain leading them out in their clean Sunlight-soap-smelling jerseys and too-long shorts, boot studs clattering on concrete. Running on to the roar of the crowd, in the beginning only a straggle of fathers and brothers. Lining up to face the other team, trying to look tough. The referee, whistle round his neck, asking 'Heads or tails?' before flicking a coin upwards with his thumb. The fateful seconds as it rose in the air spinning, and began to fall. The realisation that luck matters. Life is chancy. A coin can land wrong half the time, and an oval ball can bounce any way. Heads it is. The ball lobbed to the successful captain. An old ball had the look of hard battles, its leather scratched and rough and discoloured in patches, the lacing worn. But the captain received it with due honour and held it cupped in his hands as the other players jogged to their positions. There'd be a point where they stood leaning forward a bit, flexing alternate knees, balanced on the brink of a new beginning when the world was young and green and all things seemed possible. Then the whistle blew, a peremptory brrrreep! Looking to left and right to prime his men, the captain would pause a moment, holding the ball in front of him, then drop-kick it in the soaring parabola that starts a rugby match. Right through his life, J J remembered those minutes leading up to kick-off, and later on, the joy of flying in serene blue skies, as flawless interludes set apart from the harsh trade of living. In the weeks before he died, J. J. Kitching's memories passed in slow procession as he lay in the compassionate haze of morphine, watching them amble past. They are gilded and decorated now like sacred elephants on an Indian feast day, embroidered hangings concealing the rough grey hides, looped and beaded fringes flopping over the knowing eyes. An hour before daybreak, John Joseph Kitching closes his eyes on the memory elephants, and whimpers for the last time with only the hospice sister standing guard. His exhausted wife Shirley has just left the bedside to get some sleep. The sister clucks and shakes her head. All those hours of sitting through his coma, and she misses the final whistle. Match over. Finish and klaar. Death sneaks in a dropkick when the ref isn't looking. Having checked for vital signs, she completes his patient chart before glancing at the upside-down diamanté watch pinned to her lapel. Almost four-thirty. Using two fingers, she holds his eyelids shut for several minutes before stretching to ease her backache. Night vigils are stressful. Curtains stir when there isn't a breeze; dying eyes open and stare; breathing fluctuates; flitting moths make weird shadows. She's not one to watch muted TV or fiddle with knitting. She reaches for her cigarettes and lighter, then leans out the window overlooking the sea for a smoke, needing a transition before she breaks the news. Her patients always die. She's getting on too. It's a lose-lose situation. The breeze pongs of abandoned sardine bait and fish guts that carry a warning: one of these days it'll be her lying there gaping like a dead shad. She veils the image in a smokescreen of more cigarettes before going through to wake Shirley, who needs the sleep. All the fuss and pain of one more death can bloody well wait. [...]

This is an excerpt from the novel: Kitchen Boy, by Jenny Hobbs.

Title: Kitchen Boy
Author: Jenny Hobbs
Genre: Novel
Publisher: Random House Struik
Imprint: Umuzi
Cape Town, South Africa 2011
ISBN 9781415200971 / ISBN 978-1-4152-0097-1
Softcover, 15 x 22 cm, 224 pages

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