The Schooldays of Jesus by J. M. Coetzee Read Free Book Online Page A

asks.
    â€˜I would like to speak to someone about enrolling my son,’ says Inés.
    â€˜Enrolling your son in…?’
    â€˜Enrolling him in your Academy. I believe that señora Valentina has spoken to your director about it. David is my son’s name. She assured us that children who enrol in your Academy get a general education. I mean, they don’t just dance.’ She utters the word dance with some disdain. ‘It is the general education we areinterested in—not so much the dancing.’
    â€˜Señora Valentina has indeed spoken to us about your son. But I made it clear to her and I should make it clear to you, señora: this is not a regular school or a substitute for a regular school. It is an academy devoted to the training of the soul through music and dance. If you are looking for a regular education for your child, you will be better served by the public school system.’
    The training of the soul. He touches Inés’s arm. ‘If I may,’ he says, addressing this pale young woman, so pale as to seem bloodless— alabastra is the word that occurs to him—but beautiful nonetheless, strikingly beautiful—perhaps that is what has provoked Inés’s hostility, the beauty, as if of a statue that has come to life and wandered in from the museum—‘if I may…We are strangers in Estrella, new arrivals. We have been working on the farm owned by señora Valentina and her sisters, temporarily, while we find our feet here. The sisters have kindly taken an interest in David and have offered financial assistance for him to attend your Academy. They speak very highly of the Academy. They say that you are known to provide an excellent all-round education, that your director, señor Arroyo, is a respected educator. May we make an appointment to see señor Arroyo?’
    â€˜Señor Arroyo, my husband, is not available. We are not in session this week. Classes resume on Monday, after the break. But if you want to discuss practical matters you can discuss them with me. First, will your son be coming to us as a boarder?’
    â€˜A boarder? We were not told you took in boarders.’
    â€˜We have a limited number of places for boarders.’
    â€˜No, David will be living at home, will he not, Inés?’
    Inés nods.
    â€˜Very well. Next, footwear. Does your son have dancing slippers? No? He will need dancing slippers. I will write down the address of the shop where you can buy them. Also lighter, more comfortable clothing. It is important that the body be free.’
    â€˜Dancing slippers. We will attend to that. You spoke a moment ago of the soul, the training of the soul. In what direction do you train the soul?’
    â€˜In the direction of the good. Of obedience to the good. Why do you ask?’
    â€˜For no particular reason. And the rest of the curriculum, besides the dancing? Are there books we need to buy?’
    There is something disquieting about the woman’s appearance, something he has not been able to put a finger on. Now he recognizes what it is. She has no eyebrows. Her eyebrows have been plucked out or shaved off; or perhaps they have never grown. Below her fair, rather sparse hair, pulled back tightly on her scalp, is an expanse of naked forehead as broad as his hand. The eyes, a blue darker than sky-blue, meet his gaze calmly, assuredly. She sees through me , he thinks, through all this talk . Not as young as he had at first thought. Thirty? Thirty-five?
    â€˜Books?’ She waves a dismissive hand. ‘Books will come later. Everything in its time.’
    â€˜And the classrooms,’ says Inés. ‘Can I see the classrooms?’
    â€˜This is our only classroom.’ Her gaze sweeps the studio. ‘This is where the children dance.’ Stepping closer, she takes Inés by the hand. ‘Señora, you must understand, this is an academy of dance. First comes the dance. All else is