AFTER THE DEPARTURE of Charlie, which happened shortly after four o’clock, Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni found it difficult to settle back to work. Charlie had driven away in triumph, at the wheel of the Mercedes-Benz which Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni had just made over to him. For the proprietor of Tlokweng Road Speedy Motors it was an emotional parting, and although Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni was not one to show his feelings—mechanics do not do that—he had nearly been overcome by the moment. When he had first taken on the two apprentices, he had allowed himself to imagine that perhaps one of them would prove to be his helpmate and would in due course take over the garage. Charlie would have been the obvious choice, as the older of the two boys, but before very long it had become apparent to Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni that such thoughts were no more than fond imaginings. But in spite of all Charlie’s faults—his bad workmanship, his impetuosity, his endless attempts to impress girls—Mr J.L.B. Matekoni had conceived of a rough affection for him, as one will sometimes grow to love another for his human weaknesses. Now, with Charlie away, and the younger apprentice looking lost and disconsolate, Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni felt curiously empty. It was not that he had no work to do—a station wagon belonging to an Air Botswana pilot, a much-loved car which Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni had nursed through various mechanical illnesses, was waiting for him to replace some of its wiring. The old wires, pulled out and unravelled like a network of nerves, protruded from their hiding places; fuses lay beside them on the seats. But he could not bring himself to start this task, and so he put it off until the next day.