Mr J.L.B. Matekoni looked at his shoes. It was probably true, he thought. It was difficult being a man sometimes, particularly when women reminded one of the fact that one was a man. But there were clever men about, he thought, and these men would give ladies like Mma Potokwane a good run for their money. The problem was that he was not one of these clever men.

Mr J.L.B. Matekoni looked out of the window. He thought that perhaps he should say something, but nothing came into his mind. Outside the window, the branch of the flamboyant tree, on which a few red flowers still grew, moved almost imperceptibly. New seed pods were growing, while last year’s pods, long blackened strips, clung to branches here and there. They were good trees, flamboyants, he thought, with their shade and their red flowers, and their delicate fronds of tiny leaves, like feathers, swaying gently in the wind… He stopped. The thin green branch just outside the open window seemed to be unwinding itself and extending tentatively, as if some exaggerated process of growth were occurring.

He rose to his feet, putting down his half-finished piece of cake.

“You’ve seen something?” asked Mma Potokwane. “Are the children up to something out there?”

Mr J.L.B. Matekoni took a step closer to the window and then stopped. “There is a snake on that branch out there, Mma. A green snake.”

Mma Potokwane gasped and stood up to peer out of her window. She narrowed her eyes briefly, peering into the foliage, and then reached suddenly for Mr J.L.B. Matekoni’s arm.

“You are right, Rra! There is a snake! Ow! Look at it!”

“Yes,” said Mr J.L.B. Matekoni. “It’s a long snake too. Look, its tail goes all the way down there.”

“You must kill it, Rra,” said Mma Potokwane. “I will fetch you a stick.”