He brought his face close to Andre's- 'You should be fatter, my maggot,
having fed so long and so wellyou should be much fatter.' He touched
Andre's body, running his hands down his flanks in a caress.
' he said, and
'But now it is too late, little white maggot. Andre cringed from his
touch and from his voice. 'For the elephant has shaken you from the
wound, shaken you out on to the ground, shaken you out beneath his feet
- and will you pop when he crushes you?' His voice was still soft though
the sweat oozed in oily lines down his cheeks and the dreaminess of his
eyes had been replaced by a burning black brightness.
'We shall see,' he said and drew back. 'We shall see, My maggot,' he
repeated, and brought his knee up into Andws crotch with a force that
jerked his whole frame and flung his shoulders back.
The agony flared through Andre's lower body, fierce as the touch of
heated steel. It clamped in on his stomach, contracting it in a spasm
like childbirth, it rippled up across the muscles of his chest into his
head and burst beneath the roof of his skull in a whiteness that blinded
him.
'Hold him,' commanded General Moses, his voice suddenly shrill.
The two guards took Andre by the elbows and forced him to his knees, so
that his genitals and lower belly were easily accessible to the
general's boots. They had done this often.
'For the times you gaoled me!' And General Moses swung his booted foot
into Andre's body. The pain blended with the other pain, and it was too
strong for Andre to scream.
'This, for the insults,' and Andre could feel his testicles crush
beneath it. Still it was too strong - he could not use his voice.
'This, for the times I have grovelled.' The pain had passed its zenith,
this time he could scream with it. He opened his mouth and filled his
empty lungs.
'This, for the times I have hungered.' Now he must scream. Now he must -
the pain, oh, sweet Christ, I must, please let me scream.
'This, for your white man's justice.' Why can't I, please let me. Oh,
no! No - please. Oh, God, oh, please.
'This, for your prisons and your Kiboko!' The kicks so fast now, like
the beat of an insane drummer, like rain on a tin roof In his stomach he
felt something tear.
'And this, and this, and this.' The face before him filled the whole
field of his vision.
The voice and the sound of the boot into him filled his ears.
'This, and this, and this.' The voice high-pitched and in him the sudden
warm flood of internal bleeding.
The pain was fading now as his body closed it out in defence, and he had
not screamed. The leap of elation as he knew it. This last thing I can
do well, I can die now WITHOUT SCREAMING. He tried to stand up, but they
held him down and his legs were not his own, they were on the other side
of the great numb warmth of his belly. He lifted his head and looked at
the man who was killing him.
'This for the white filth that bore you, and this, and this-' The blows
