Power of the Sword - Smith Wilbur. Страница 120
Aunt Trudi was strongly opposed to his leaving the manse and entering one of the university residences for men. As she pointed out, he had a fine room to himself now; the girls would miss him to the point of distraction, by implication she was included amongst those who would suffer, and even on Uncle Tromp's now princely stipend, the residence fees would be a burden on the family exchequer.
Uncle Tromp called upon the university registrar and made some financial arrangements which were never discussed in the family and then came down strongly on Manfred's side.
Living in a house full of women will drive the boy mad in time. He should go where he can benefit from the company of other young men and from the full life of the university. So, on 25 January, Manfred eagerly presented himself at the imposing Cape Dutch style residence for gentlemen students, Rust en Vrede. The name translated as Rest and Peace', and within the first few minutes of arrival he realized just how ironic was the choice for he was caught up in the barbaric ritual of freshman initiation.
His name was taken from him and he was given instead the sobriquet of Poep; which he shared with the nineteen other freshmen of the house.
This translated freely as flatus'. He was forbidden to use the pronouns Y or me but only this flatus', and he had to request permission not only of the senior men for every action but also of all inanimate objects he encountered in the residence. Thus he was obliged to utter endless inanities: Honourable door, this flatus wishes to pass through, or Honourable toilet, this flatus wishes to sit upon you. Within the residence he and his fellow freshmen were not allowed normal means of perambulation but were made to walk backwards, even down stairs, at all times. They were held incommunicado from friends and family and in particular were most strenuously forbidden to talk to anybody of the opposite sex; if they were caught so much as looking in the general direction of a pretty girl a warning notice was hung around their necks and could not be removed even in the bath. Beware! Sex maniac at large. Their rooms were raided by the seniors every hour, on the hour, from six in the evening until six in the morning. All their bedding was piled in the middle of the floor and soaked with water, their books and possessions were swept from the shelves and turned out of the drawers and piled on the sodden blankets. The senior men performed this duty in shifts until the shivering freshmen took to sleeping on the bare tiles of the passage outside their bedrooms, leaving the chaos within to mould and fester. Whereupon the senior student, a lordly fourth-year honours man named Roelf Stander, held a formal house committee inspection of the rooms.
You are the most disgusting cloud of flatus ever to disgrace this university, he told them at the end of the inspection. You have one hour in which to make your rooms spotless and put them in perfect order, after which you will be taken on a route march as punishment for your slovenly attitude. it was midnight when Roelf Stander finally announced that he was satisfied with the condition of their bedrooms and they were prepared for the route march.
This involved stripping them to their underpants, placing a pillow case over their heads, tying them in Indian file with a rope around their necks and their hands strapped behind their backs and marching them through the streets of the sleeping town and out into the mountains. The chosen route was rough and stony and when one of them fell he brought down the freshmen in front and behind. At four in the morning they were led back into town on bleeding feet and with their throats chafed raw from the coarse hemp rope to find their rooms had been raided once again and that Roelf Stander's next inspection would take place at five o'clock. The first lecture of the university day began at seven. There was no time for breakfast.
All this came under the heading of good clean fun; the university authorities turned a blind eye upon the rites on the grounds that boys will be boys and that the initiation ritual was a university tradition, instilling a community Spirit into the new arrivals. However, in this climate of indulgence the bullies and sadists who lurk in any community took full advantage of
the sanction accorded them. There were a few merciless
beatings, and one freshman was tarred and feathered. Mannfred had heard light talk of this punishment, but had not been able to imagine the dreadful agony that it inflicted when the victim's skin was sealed and his scalp and body hair matted and coated with hot tar. The boy was hospitalized and never returned to the university, but the affair was hushed up completely.
Other freshmen dropped out in those first weeks, for the self-appointed guardians of the university tradition made no allowance for delicate physical or mental constitutions. One of the victims, an asthmatic, was judged guilty of insubordination by the seniors and was sentenced to formal drowning.
This sentence was carried out in the bathroom of the residence. The victim was pinioned by four hefty seniors and lowered headfirst into the toilet bowl of the lavatory.
Two fifth-year medical students were present to monitor the victim's pulse and heartbeat during the punishment, but they had not made allowance for his asthma, and the drowning almost ended as the real thing. only frantic efforts by the budding doctors and an intravenous injection of stimulant started the boy's heart beating again; he left the university next day, like the other dropouts, never to return.
Manfred, despite his size and physique and good looks, which made him a natural target, was able to bridle his anger and check his tongue. He submitted stoically even to extreme provocation until in the second week of torment a note was pinned on the board in the residence common room: all flatus will report to the university gymnasium at 4 pm on Saturday to try out for the boxing squad.
Signed: Roelf Stander Captain of Boxing Each of the university residences specialized in some particular sport: one was the rugby football house, another was field and track; but Rust en Vrede's sport was boxing. This, together with the fact that it was Uncle Tromp's old house, was the reason why Manfred had applied for admission in the first place.
It was also the reason why the interest in the freshmen try-out was far beyond anything that Manfred had expected.
At least three hundred spectators were assembled, and the seats around the ring were all filled by the time that Manfred and his fellow flatus arrived at the gymnasium. Marshalled by one of the senior men into a crocodile column, they were marched to the changing-rooms and given five minutes to change into tennis shoes, shorts and vests, then lined up against the lockers in order of height.
Roelf Stander strolled down the rank, glancing at the fist in his hand and making the matchings. It was obvious that he had been studying them during the preceding weeks and grading their potential. Manfred, the tallest and sturdiest of all the freshmen, was at the end of the line, and Roelf Stander stopped in front of him last.
There is no other fart as loud and smelly as this one, he announced, and then was silent for a moment as he studied Manfred. 'What do you weigh, Flatus? This flatus is light heavyweight, sir, and Roelf's eyes narrowed slightly. He had already singled Manfred out as the best prospect and now the technical jargon heartened him.
Have you boxed before, Flatus? he demanded, and then pulled a wry face at the disappointing reply.
This flatus has never boxed a match, sir, but this flatus has had some practice.
A Oh, all right, then! I am heavyweight. But as there is no
one else to give you a match, I'll go a few rounds with you, if you promise to treat me lightly, Flatus. Roeff Stander was captain of the university squad, amateur provincial champion and one of South Africa's better prospects for the team which would go to Berlin for the Olympic Games in 1936. It was a rich joke cracked by a senior student and everybody laughed slavishly. Even Roelf could not hide a grin at his own preposterous plea for mercy.