Until There's Nothing Left to Cry For

One Two Three
One Two Three Four
One Two Three
One Two Three Four
One Two Three
One Two Three Four...
The little girl pirouetted around her living room, skipping over the
edges and patterns of the threadbare rug on her tiptoes, counting under
her breath. She swirled over to the back of the couch, holding on to
the back of the filthy piece of furniture, she used it as a barr,
lifting her frail legs into the air and sweeping her skinny arms into
great arcs over her head.

Her wispy blonde hair was pulled back tight over her skull and knotted
into a bun at the back of her head so that her large green eyes seemed
to push out of her face and penetrate right to your soul, like some
sort of emerald ghost.

Her cheeks sunk deep into her face and there were profound dark lines
under those sparkling eyes.

Then one's eyes would travel to her body, and one's heart would sink to
their stomachs.

To look at her body made you ache inside. The pink leotard hung loosely
around her, clinging to her protruding ribs in some places and hanging
onto her hipbones. Her legs looked fragile almost to breaking point and
her knees seemed far too large for a body so small.

The little girl's face was furrowed with concentration. As she skipped
around the room, you could hear the bones in her feet coming into
contact with the hard wooden floor, and each time you heard that sound,
your heart felt as if it would burst into a thousand pieces... either
out of pity or anger.

Anger because, how could this girl be so selfish? There were thousands
of people all over Africa, suffering from malnutrition, and here she
was, in a respectable community in a home (even if it was a tiny,
filthy apartment in the centre of Hillbrow, Johannesburg) looking like
a skeleton.

Then the pity washed over you in great tides. It came so suddenly and
so hit you with such impact, that tears would come to your eyes almost
immediately.

I know that I cried the first time I met Tina. I was brought in by her
stepmother to see to her and sort her out. I was told that Tina had
anorexia, but I had never expected anything like this. I had been with
plenty of anorectics, it was what I specialised in, but I'd never seen
anyone so close to death as this little girl was.

"Tina," I say quietly, "Won't you come and sit down? I think you've
done enough dancing for today"

The little girl doesn't even look at me, and continues to pirouette
about me.

"Tina," I say again. I'm giving up. I can feel my resolve slipping away
from me, becoming further and further out of my reach... kind of like
Tina.

I feel like crying. In fact, I am crying. I'm frustrated and I'm tired,
and I just want to get home to my own filthy little flat downtown, even
if it means being alone again on a Friday night.

"Tina!" My voice comes out forced and shaky

"Ja?" Her huge green eyes fix themselves on me, but she continues to
dance.

"Please, just come and sit down with me," I clear my throat, and my
voice comes out with authority.

Suddenly she stops. Her eyes roll around her head and her tiny body
sways to and fro. She clutches onto the skinny arm of the couch and I
can see her hand shaking.

"Tina!" I stand up cautiously, advancing towards her with my hand
outstretched.

I can see that she has been exerting her body too hard, and it doesn't
take much work for her to get completely worn out. Her breath is coming
in short, shuddering gasps, reminding me a bit of someone having an
asthma attack.

I'm panic-stricken. I'm not sure what to do, whether I'm meant to make
her sit down, or if I should call for help or if I should just leave
her to get over it. Before I can worry any longer, she lifts her taut
face to me and takes a deep breath. She's still a little wheezy, but
she perches on the couch and looks at me with her haunting green
eyes.

"You know that you shouldn't do any exerting exercises without having
eaten something substantial beforehand, don't you?" I say to her
cautiously

"Ja, I know, I ate lunch about a half hour ago"

I know that she's lying, anyone would. You could see that she hadn't
eaten for days, it was obvious.

I sat down next to her, and I tried and I tried. I tried one tactic
after another, trying desperately to understand why this child wouldn't
eat. There had to be some sort of deep rooted problem that made her
think that she was fat, or needed to lose weight, or just caused her to
stop eating.

Eventually, after an hour, her stepmother came in to escort me
out.
"Well?" she said, almost impatiently, when we were out of earshot of
her husband's daughter.

"I'm afraid I got no further than I did yesterday, or the day before,
Mrs de Klerk. Your daughter-"

"Stepdaughter"

"Right, stepdaughter, hasn't made anymore progress with me. I'm afriad
that she isn't ready to-"

"You mean, she won't co-operate with you! I knew that child would be a
problem from the minute I laid eyes on her. I told Sonny to leave her
with his ex wife, but he wouldn't listen to me! And look at her now!
Just look at her! Trying to cause problems for me and my husband! Why,
I oughta-"

"Mrs de Klerk, making threats isn't going to be of any help to anyone,
and blaming it all on Tina really isn't fair. I think that-"
"I think that you are not being of any help to me."

"With all due respect, I am trying my best..."

"Well, maybe your best isn't good enough! You're charging one hell of a
lot of money for one hell of a lot of kuk! My husband doesn't grow
money from his ears you know! If you can't sort that child out, then
I'll find someone who will! Gooienaand!"

"Mrs de Klerk, I really don't think that resorting to another
phsychiatrist is going to be of any help! Tina is only just beginning
to trust me. If you could just have patience, these things don't happen
within a day. If you'll just give me a chance..."

"That child has caused me so much grief, she doesn't deserve a second
chance. If she cannot help herself, then there is no way we can help
her, I'm afraid. Her doctor's told me that she has to go into the
Johannesburg General Hospital because her nutrition levels are far too
low, but Sonny refused. She weighs in at 29 kilos! Good God, do you
know how little that is for a child of 16? No, I'm sorry, but she must
be hospitalised and if she needs phsychiatric help, she will recieve it
from whomever is offering there. You have not been of any help, and I
do not wish to exploit my husband's earnings any further, good day
Miss... er, whatever you said your name was."

With that, I was left standing in the black silence that filled the
corridor outside the apartment.

I pushed through the glass door with the crack in it into the slick
streets of Hillbrow. The rain was falling, the thunder was roaring, as
were my thoughts and my anger. I was furious with that... that... that
woman. She was a bitter, coldhearted bitch who cared for no one but
herself. Tina was no more than a reminder of her husband's past to her,
and as far as Mrs de Klerk was concerned, they would have been better
off without her.

I felt bitterly sorry for any children that they would ever have of
their own and for a split second, I wished all the harm in the world on
that woman.

***

I sit now, with the threat of rain hovering over my head in thick heavy
clouds, at Tina's funeral.

She had been forced into hospital, where she stayed for a week, before
falling out of her bed in the middle of the night and cracking her
frail head open on the nightstand. By the time the nurses had arrived
in her room, it had been too late. Tina was dead.

I look over at Mrs de Klerk now. She is crying, but I wonder if those
tears are for Tina, or whether they are for herself. I somehow get the
feeling that if Tina hadn't have existed at all, it wouldn't have made
much difference to this woman. No, those tears are for no one other
than the most important person in the world to her... herself.

She has lost someone. But she crys not for the person that she has
lost, but the loss she has made. Tina was a trophy to her, in some
twisted sort of way. By having Tina around, it showed everyone that Mrs
de Klerk had won her husband from another woman, that she heself was
victorious.

If I had not been at the funeral of someone that I felt very deeply
for, had it not been disrespectful to Tina, I would have spat in that
woman's face.

After Tina's tiny body is lowered, prayers are said, and final tears
are shed, I stand by her grave. I look at the inscription on the
gravestone.

'Here lies Tina de Klerk, the angel that we mourn now, but will remain
in our hearts forever. May God keep her safe, until we meet again, our
Little Ballerina'

No one really knew how much Tina longed to dance. In her room, she had
posters of famous ballerinas and ballets plastered across her walls. I
had only ben in there once. Tina had of course thrown me out, bitterly
accusing me of invading her privacy, and that she could and would sue
me for it.

I smile now.

I turn, and walk back to my own filthy little apartment, even if it
means being alone again on a Friday night.