Pynter Bender. Jacob Ross

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      ‘Turned truant, I believe, aided and abetted by yourself.’

      ‘Pynter, get a chair for ’im.’

      Bostin placed the brown case on the seat of the chair and the stick beside it. Pynter could see that the silver handle on the stick was the head of a lion. Bostin reached into his right pocket and pulled out a white handkerchief. He wiped not just the seat of the chair but also the back. Finally, with a smooth and curious sideways movement, he took up his things and slid onto the chair.

      ‘Well, er, yes. It has been brought to my attention that in relation to the education of this boy, and you might be quite unaware of it, you are contravening the law.’

      ‘Which law?’ His father seemed almost pleased with the man.

      Bostin creased his forehead. ‘The law of the land, Mister, er, Forsyth. The one that bequeaths me the powers to bring this matter to your attention and to take the necessary action if my recommendations are not adhered to by yourself and …’

      ‘Which law you talkin ’bout, passed when, by who, under which sub-section of which article of which Act?’

      ‘Well, er, we don’t have an Education Act, per se, but …’

      ‘Then we don’t have no law which kin force me to send my child to school. That is why you come – not so?’

      ‘You kin say so.’

      ‘Is so or is not so?’

      ‘Depends on how you interpret the matter.’ The man lifted his case and placed it on his lap.

      ‘You a very frustratin fella, y’know dat?’ Manuel Forsyth had pushed himself forward in the chair. ‘You come here to tell me I breakin a law dat don’t exist an’ threaten me in my own house. I have a mind to report you to the head pusson in your place an’ make you lose your job!’

      ‘I am the head person, Mister Forsyth. You’ll have to, er, report my misdemeanours to me!’

      ‘Good. I’ll make you fire yourself then. You finish your business with me?’

      ‘No, sir.’ The man slipped his hand into his case and eased out a green notebook. He studied it for a moment. ‘Truancy is a punishable offence in, er, the, er,’ the notebook moved closer to his face, ‘in the case where parents have been informed and they persist in, er, withholding the subject of the enquiry from going to school.’

      His father laughed. ‘Tell me, Bostin, what is de definition of truancy?’

      ‘Pardon me?’ Bostin wiped his brow.

      ‘Define truancy fo’ me.’ Manuel Forsyth was directing a kindly gaze in his direction.

      Bostin folded the handerkerchief and dropped it on his lap. ‘I don’ wan’ no argument, sah! I jus’ doin my job, okay? Is confusion I tryin to avoid right now.’

      ‘Truancy occur in instances where – you lissenin?’

      Missa Bostin nodded, sourly.

      ‘He lissenin, Pa,’ Pynter cut in gently.

      ‘Good! Truancy is when a child, for any kind o’ reason, decide not to go to school. An act of will on de part o’ de child. It imply an unwillingness to learn on the part o’ de child – a voluntary act of self-deprivation. You agree?’

      ‘I hearin you.’

      ‘Well, let me inform you that Pynter don’t need to go to no school. It is I who decide not to send ’im.’

      ‘Can you say that again?’

      ‘Pa, he writing down what you say in a lil green book.’

      ‘Let ’im write! I got a lot more for Mister Bostin to write down. I hope your book big enough. Tell dem fools who send you that de purpose of schoolin is to learn – to be educated. It don’t have no other reason for goin to school. Now once I kin prove dat Pynter here is not missing out on his education, you don’t have no case in a court of law against me. In fact, I would like for you to take me to court so’z I kin make a fool of every single one of you. Then I will take y’all to court for taking me to court and causing me a whole heap of stress I didn ask for. You out of place to come here in my house and call my child a truant. What I really want to know is who report me to you. Who do it?’

      ‘I cannot expose that, sir.’

      ‘I hope to God dat is not who I think it is. Pynter, get me the Bible. You a believer, Bostin?’

      ‘A regular churchgoer and a family man, sir.’

      ‘Well, listen to the boy read and be blessed at de same time. C’mon, Pynter – Matthew, chapter uh, lemme see, seven. Yep! Matthew, chapter seven – start from verse three.’

      Pynter took the book and threw the man a sympathetic glance. He began to read. ‘“And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?”’

      ‘Skip verse four,’ his father said. ‘Jump to five and six.’

      ‘“Thou hypocrite,”’ Pynter continued, ‘“first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother’s eye. Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you.”’

      ‘Good.’ Manuel Forsyth smacked his lips. ‘You see my boy can read and with feeling besides.’

      Mister Bostin pulled out his handkerchief and sopped his forehead. He gave Pynter a hard sideways glance. ‘You numerate?’

      ‘Yes, he kin count,’ Manuel Forsyth said.

      Mister Bostin turned the back of his right hand towards his face and examined his fingers. The nails were cut very low, except the little finger, which sprouted a long and curving outgrowth that he was clearly proud of.

      ‘Well, I’m reasonably satisfied that he’s doing something. I must refer the matter, though. A daily diet of the Bible may be just the, er, thing – morally, that is – but to school the boy must go. That’s what my job dictate.’

      ‘You mean, I waste all this time arguing with you?’

      The man got up. For the first time he smiled. Pynter was surprised at the brightness of it. ‘That’s for you to decide, sir.’

      ‘I’ll fight every one o’ you in court.’

      ‘You’ll hear from me, Mister Forsyth. Follow me, boy.’

      ‘Half-edicated jackass.’

      Pynter looked quickly at the man and then back at his father. His lips were moving angrily. Bostin paused as if he were about to say something. He thought better of it and tiptoed out of the bedroom.

      The man turned to face Pynter on the steps. His voice was almost a whisper. ‘Talk the truth now, lil fella, you СКАЧАТЬ