Richard Rive The Visits

(South Africa, 1931-1989)

Richard Rive was born in District Six, the youngest of eight children. He went to St Mark’s Primary School
and Trafalgar High School, both in District Six, and then to the Hewat College of Education in Athlone,
where he qualified as a teacher. Later he was to gain a BA degree from the University of Cape Town, an
MA from Columbia University in the United States, and a Doctorate from Oxford University. He was for
many years the Head of the English Department at Hewat College. He was a prominent sportsman and a
school sports administrator. He once said: “I draw most of my material from the urban slums of Cape
Town’s District Six.”

The Visits

It was on the evening The Student had gone out that The woman had first arrived. It wasn’t actually a
visit, but that was the nearest he could come to it. He remembered it very clearly. First the phone call
for the Student, some girl or other, then the front-door banging. The Student revving his engine and the
tortured whine (agonised high sound as the engine is forced) as the Honda gathered speed up the
driveway.

He was distinctly annoyed. He went to the front-door, opened it, peered (looked carefully) out from long
habit, then closed the door gently as if to make up to it for The Student’s treatment. He returned to his
study and sat down at the cluttered desk. Should he read or mark books? He was busy fighting his way
through an anthology of South African verse. What a bore. What a boring bore. Should he mark the
Standard Ten compos (casual abbreviation for ‘compositions’) instead? Mark books?

There was a quietness which settled over the flat. It was like that whenever The Student went out and
he took the phone off the cradle (more usually, ‘off the hook’; he did not replace the receiver on its
rest). The silence surging (moving in waves – used figuratively here) softly backwards … but first the
storm before the calm. The phone, then the revving of that damn engine, then peace. Mark books.
Standard Ten (Previous name in South Africa for Grade 12) compos. Remember, dearest children, the
word can denotes ability, whereas may denotes possibility. Ability and possibility. Can ability. May
possibility. Can-ability, may-possibility. He repeated it mentally until a rhythm formed. May-possibility
sounded clumsy. So he changed to canability, mayability. But that was wrong. Sacrificing rhythm for
meaning. Maybe he could use it on his seniors. His students. The Student?

He got up, uncomfortable at the triviality (lack of importance) of his ideas. Must be getting old. Mr Chips
(an elderly teacher character in James Hilton’s 1934 novel Goodbye, Mr Chips). Old at forty-five. Young
at forty-five. He walked to the kitchen to make some tea and turned on the tap for hot water. The gurgle
(sound of water running unevenly) echoed through the flat. How vacant the place sounded with out The
Student. How empty when he wasn’t there. How empty when he was there. A different kind of
emptiness.
Impossible to speak to him any longer. He was too … too physical. Throwing his weight around and his
good looks. Girls, the telephone and the Honda. His unholy trinity (group of three; adaptation of the
Christian concept of the Holy Trinity). A student of rags and tatters (disorderly; not seriously concerned
with his studies only). He switched on the stove reflectively, (deep in thought) and put on the water.
Mayability, canability, canability, mayability.

It was then that he heard the knocking at the door. Not loud but it could be heard throughout the flat.
Who could it be? He was curious but didn’t answer the door at once. He fussed loudly in the kitchen to
show that he was in (he knew he could be heard at the entrance) until the knocking was repeated. He
coughed and said, ‘Coming’.

When he opened the door he was surprised and disappointed to see The African woman standing there.

‘Yes?’ he asked, somewhat annoyed.

She said nothing, just stood there, her eyes downcast (looking down). He took in her appearance. She
was extremely unattractive, seemed all of a heap (an untidy bundle of clothes and body) from her
doughy bosom (soft fleshy breasts – like dough making bread) to her thick ankles hanging over her
shoes.

‘Yes?’ he repeated, showing his impatience.

She looked at him for the first time and he noticed a mixture of shyness and aggression (anger and
fighting potential shown in behaviour or manner or speech). He felt like shutting the door on her, but
was incapable of (could not) such behaviour. He braced himself (prepared to do or say something
difficult) and became the teacher. [For God’s sake, boy, open your mouth when you recite (speak or
read out loud). Can denotes ability. May possibility.]

Then she said in a half-whisper, ‘I want food.’ And as an afterthought, ‘Please.’

It was the way she said it that made him look at her more closely. Although she whispered, her tone was
not servile (humble, like the manner of a servant or slave) or pleading (humbly and intensely asking).
She spoke almost as if the asking for food was hers by right. Not quite a demand, more a taking for
granted (assuming that something is going to be true, or going to happen). He wanted her to go, but
there was something about her he didn’t quite understand. He couldn’t see her eyes very clearly but
sensed they were laughing and mocking him. When he tried to see the cast them done. ‘Food?’ he
repeated, and knew he sounded foolish. She maintained her silence, not looking him in the face.

‘Wait here, I’ll see.’ He realised that this was a sigh of defeat. But why should he be defeated? There was
no contest (competition), or was there?

What he knew was that he had to get away from her. He wished The Student had been there. He could
have dealt physically with the situation. But this was so different. He went back to the kitchen and stood
for some time staring at the water boiling over on the stove and hissing on the plate. Then he opened
the provisions (stock of food – packets and tins in this case) cupboard and started filling an empty
carrier-bag. Sugar, rice, a tin of mushrooms. There was some apricot jam left over, a bottle of pickles,
stuffed olives. What the hell could she do with stuffed olives? He opened the fridge and removed
cheese, butter and two pints of milk. Then he opened the bread tin. He stared at the bulging carrier on
the kitchen table.

He seemed afraid to face her and hoped she would be gone by the time he returned to the door. He
decided to have a cup of tea while playing for time. Should he invite her? He smiled and decided against
the tea. Then resolutely (determinedly) he took the paper carrier. Give her the food and tell her to get
the hell away.

When he handed over the provisions she made a slight, old-fashioned bow. It seemed comical because
he estimated she could not be more than forty. Still, one could never tell with these people. Or could
one?

‘Thank you,’ she said in the same whisper. Then she was gone. He turned to the kitchen, feeling relieved
and, for no reason at all, completely exhausted.

The second time the woman came, it was almost like her first visit. Had she visited him? One did not visit
and ask for food. The Student was out again(flexing his muscles at some giddy fresher (first-year student
– an American term, also used in South African universities) in a coffee bar). He had been in his study for
some time reading the book on South African verse. It wasn’t quite as boring as he had thought at first.

Roy Campbell (South African poet). ‘Upon a dark and gloomy night,’ Yes it was a dark and gloomy night.
Outside it was dark with squalls (sudden blasts of wind) of north-western. ‘Upon a gloomy night with
nobody in sight, I went abroad when all my house was hushed.’ To waste the poetry of that great
Spanish mystic (someone who believes knowledge comes from prayer and meditation) St John of the
Cross upon the snot-nosed brats in his matriculation class. (For goodness sake, try to feel what the poet
is trying to get at. Feel the brio (Italian word for liveliness; used in the context of music). They lived for
Hondas and girls and pop. Telephones and screaming singers. The Animals. The Insecticides.

He settled for more Roy Campbell. ‘In safety, in disguise, in darkness up the secret stair I crept…’ He
recognised the knock at once when it came and was afraid to answer.

She stood halfway in the shadow of the entrance but he had no difficulty in recognising the dumpy
(short and fat) figure, the heavy legs and the downcast eyes. This time he was determined that she
should speak first. She had the empty carrier-bag with her. He did not want to break the silence.
Somehow he seemed afraid of his own voice. She held out the bag without saying anything.

‘What is it this time?’ he demanded in his schoolmaster voice. Then he regretted his tone and felt his
attitude was wrong, far too aggressive (angry and ready to fight). There was certainly no cause for
aggression.

‘More food?’ he asked, hoping he sounded friendly. ‘Yes, please,’ she said at last.
He went into the kitchen and half-filled the bag with all the left-overs he could find. By the time he
returned he felt more at ease, more in control of himself, and was determined to speak.

‘Tell me,’ he said without handing over the bag, ‘what is your name? Who are you?’

She mumbled something which sounded like Edith. The surname was inaudible. He didn’t bother to ask
her to repeat it.

‘Now look her, Edith or whoever you are.’ He spoke faster than usual, his voice a trifle raspy (a little
rough, showing annoyance). Now look here. You’re a grown woman. You should be working instead of
begging like this. Take the carrier but don’t come back here again. Do you understand?’

She nodded slightly and took the food with the same old-fashioned bow. The, like the first time, she was
gone.

He went back to his study and slumped (dropped heavily) down in the chair. He took up his book but
had no further interest in Roy Campbell. Edith something or other. For God’s sake why must she come
to him? What had he done to her? What had he done for her? He felt guilty but there was nothing he
could think of to feel guilty about. He had given her food. He had done his duty. What was his duty and
why should he do it? Again the nagging (irritating, worrying) feeling of guilt. Well, he had to tell her not
to come again. Couldn’t keep giving food away. Not a charitable institution (organisation doing good for
poor or disadvantaged people). He wished The Student would come home earlier so they could talk. No,
not about the woman necessarily. Only just talk.

He sat in the dark until well after eleven o’clock when he heard The Student’s Honda whining up the
driveway. Then he went to bed.

Even after her third visit he said nothing to The Student about it. They seldom spoke, communicating
only when necessary. (The Student was in sometimes now because examinations were pressing.) The
night of her third visit, however, The Student was out, and he was alone in the flat, although himself on
the verge of going (just about to go) out. He was going out more frequently now. He sometimes visited
two members of his staff with whom he was quite intimate (warmly friendly; close friends), and his one
married sister. Most times he sat in the public library reading until closing time. He even went to
cinemas although he detested (hated) them. What he seemed afraid of was being alone in the flat. The
loneliness got him down ( depressed him, made him anxious) Or was it aloneness? He used to enjoy it
before. The silence, his books, his pipe. A cup of tea and a small brandy with water before turning in
(going to bed) for the night. He couldn’t stand the sameness any longer. And the loneliness. One tired of
too much routine. And loneliness.

He had put on his overcoat and prepared himself mentally for the brisk (quick) walk to the library. The
dark shadows of the trees lining the avenue, the smell of rain. He was about to pick up his books when
the knock came. He looked around for possible escape routes but there was only the bathroom window
and he realised how absurd (ridiculous) it was for him to climb through that.
She stood in the doorway holding the same empty carrier. ‘But I told you not to come back!’ he tried to
control himself. ‘I told you not to come again.’

She maintained her silence (stayed quiet), her eyes as usual downcast. He clenched (held in a tight grip)
the library books till he could feel the edges cutting into this palm.

‘Do you understand me?’

She nodded slightly.

‘I told you to stay away! Do you understand? Stay away!’ She stood dumbly, not looking at him.

‘If you come again, I’ll be forced to call the police. Police!’ he repeated.

She started slightly and cast a quick glance at him. He felt it was hostile (unfriendly).

‘Police!’ he repeated. ‘Police!’

There was a pause that lasted longer than it should have done.

‘Hell,’ he said, dropping books on the table. ‘Hell, what do I do now?’ He decided to try to be reasonable
and sat down wearily.

‘Where you from?’

She kept her eyes down, not replying.

‘Look,’ he said, ‘I’ll give you food for the last time. For the last time. You understand? You never come
again. If you do come I’ll call the police. Then you’ll go to jail! Understand?’ She stared at him, her eyes
no longer downcast.

‘Jail! Police! Jail!’

Then he noticed, almost with a start , that she was crying. Two tears rolled down her cheeks but her race
remained immobile (not moving). The tears did not seem part of her. He felt the sense of guilt again.
Felt like assuring her that he would not call the police. That he was only pretending. But she must not
come again.

He went into the kitchen, and when she took the carrier with the same quaint (unusual but charming)
bow. He watched her walking down the driveway. Then he saw another dark figure joining her. They
seemed to speak for a short time, but it was too far for him to hear what they were saying. She pointed
at him still standing in the open doorway. The other figure (he could not make out the sex) also turned.
He heard their loud laughter. He shut the door and felt sick to his stomach.

She came again the following week and the week after, and every week after that. Now he merely went
to the door, took her empty carrier and then filled it. Now no words passed between them, only the
ritual (same set of repeated actions). The quaint bow and she was gone. He bought extra groceries
which he set aside for her. She did not always come on the same evening, but she never came more
than once a week. She seemed to time her visit so that The Student was out and he was in.

Although he watched her when she left, he never saw her companion again. He began suffering from
lack of sleep, was short-tempered with his pupils at school and was seriously thinking of giving The
Student notice and then himself moving from the flat. There was no one to whom he could speak
seriously about the visits.

He told The Student about it one evening but he turned it into a joke and they both laughed. He seemed
to welcome and dread her visits at the same time. He wanted to find out more about her, follow her and
see where she lived. Was she married? Did she have children? Why did she have to beg? Was it only to
him that she came? But somehow he was afraid, afraid he might find out. He could ask her in, give her
some tea and then ask questions. He was afraid of her answers.

Then one week she did not appear. Her groceries remained in the closet (cupboard). The following
week she did not come either. He kept the groceries (in case). After she had not appeared for a month
he decided to use the provisions he had bought for her. With a strange sense of fear he opened the bags
and was relieved when nothing happened. He fest as if an enormous burden (a heavy load) had
dropped from his shoulders and wanted to speak to someone about it. Anyone. The Student was in his
room trying in vain (unsuccessfully) to study. He made some coffee and took it to The Student, standing
in the doorway attempting to keep the conversation alive.

‘By the way,’ The Student said, not annoyed at being disturbed, ‘your girlfriend turned up last week but
you were out.’

‘I was out?’ he said bewildered. He was eager to know more. ‘I answered the door and there she was.
What an ugly bitch.’

‘Yes?’ He hoped he had not sounded over-anxious.

‘I told her to get away, clear off, hamba (Nguni for go)!’ He waved his arms to indicate the action. ‘She
wouldn’t.’

‘What did you do?’ His lips were trembling.

‘What you should have don the first time.’

‘What should I have done?’

‘Yes. I took her by her black neck and frog-marched (for her to move by holding her hand at the back)
down the driveway. The threw her out.’

He felt a tightening across his chest. His fists balled and he felt like hitting The Student. He was shivering
all over.

‘She won’t come again.’ The Student reassured him.

‘Why the hell not?’ The Student looked at him puzzled.

‘You shouldn’t have don that;’ he repeated lamely (weakly).

‘Are you sick or something?’ The Student asked.

‘I’m all right, Only have to get back to my books. Marking to be done.’ The Student looked at him in a
strange way. Then the phone rang.

He went into his study and slumped at the desk. He felt like crying but he could not. He heard The
Student banging the front-door, then the revving of his Honda engine. Long after the whine had faded
away he sat at his desk just staring in the dark.

Characters:

Narrator =A Teacher
The Student
The woman
The stranger with the woman

Summary:
The Teacher lives alone with a Student boarding at his house. A strange woman knocks on his door and
asks for food. He gives her some. She returns for food every week. He tries to chase her away but is
unsuccessful. He even suspects that she is just using him. She becomes part of his routine, he buys extra
groceries for her and waits for her to come and collect. One day The Student opens up the door to her
and chases her away by using force. The Teacher is upset by this even though the teacher did complain
about her bothering him and that he would like to move away so as not to have her bother him.

Questions:
1. On the first knocking at his door, why is the narrator ‘disappoined’ to see the African woman
there?
2. When he says ‘Wait here, I’ll see’. Why does he feel ‘defeated’?
3. When the narrator refers to himself as ‘Mr Chips’; ‘ he became the teacher’l ‘he demanded in
his schoomaster voice’ … In one or two sentences, give a character sketch of this man. (3)
4a. On the woman’s third visit, why does she cry? (1)
4b. Almost immediately after that, why does he hear her ‘loud laughter’? (1)
4c. Why is The Student so sure that ‘She won’t come again’?

5. Why is The Student so sure that ‘She won’t come again’? (1)
6. Why is the narrator so upset by what The Student has done? (1)

Essay question
Write an essay of about 250-300 words in which you contrast the characters of the teacher-narrator and
The Student who boards with the narrator. (35)

Answer: Questions
1. He had hoped to see someone interesting at his door. (1)
2. He feels defeated because he has not been strong enough to sen her away./ He has given in to
her request. / He almost knows there will be further requests.
3. He is a careful, precise, fastidious person in his habits and behaviour. He finds The Student and
his own students too loud and unthinking; and, because of his loneliness, he does not adapt well
to anything out of the ordinary.
4. a. She may well be putting on a sadness she isn’t feeling. / Perhaps she is genuinely
humiliated.
b. She seems to be laughing at him with her companion, after gesturing at the teacher.
c. He believes she has been tricked into generosity, and feels humiliated.
5. Because he has dealt with the matter physically, firmly and without andy scruples.
6. In his loneliness he has come to depend on her dependence on him, / He feels thwarted of his
doing good to the less fortunate. / He misses her odd ‘companionship’.

Essay:
 The student is noisy.
 He slams the door.
 He revs his car.
 He talks on the telephone.
 The teacher is quiet.
 He closes the door carefully.
 He takes the phone off the hook.
 The flat seems empty and vacant without the student.
 The teacher is in a dilemma about how to treat the woman.
 He knows the student would have dealt with it ‘physically’.
 The teacher does not tell the student about the woman.
 When he does, the student treats it as a joke.
(35)