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Ficksburg Grocery Store Blues

Johann van der Walt

the four of us decided to pretend that we were rich
so when the time came we entered the new Rite Value
grocery store down the road passed the old church
we scanned the countless aisles and loaded our trolley to the brim:
bacon, milk and chocolates and all the things
four ten year old boys would never be able to afford

we licked our lips in greedy silences
exchanged typical stressed out glances
but we couldn't back out now, it has gone too far,
the cashier's fingers hit buttons frantically
our feet burned with the itch to just get out and go
and take to the road as fast as our legs would allow

the distance to the entrance seemed a lifetime away
then she captured the last item - a bottle of pineapple Tropica
she turned to us, expecting money but finding only dismay:
four boys ran out the door in premature laughter
with the cashier unexpectedly taking after us

“you kids are the devil,” she yelled and fell behind,
“to hell with you white bastards. Mhlungus!”
we took a shortcut through the old churchyard, panting,
the summer's glare bounced off the sumptuous windows
and we squinted as we walked on by
our bellies thick with laughter and our bodies fired up with youth.

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