The Light Remains by Samantha Keller is published by Modjaji Books. (Photo: Modjaji Books) Set against the landscape of 1960s South Africa, Samantha Keller's lyrical debut novel, The Light Remains, explores family loyalty, first love and the quiet courage it takes to forge one’s own path. After a tragic accident, protagonist Eve Hunter seeks comfort from her closest friend, Jack, who has always been considered her older sister Kate’s future. But Eve and Jack’s bond deepens into something more complex and undeniable. Here is an excerpt.
***
All the Transvaal schools were closed for Easter break. It was almost the end of April, and the weather hadn’t yet turned. I lifted my face to the sun. It was still warm enough to swim and lie in the sun, but by the end of the Easter weekend it would feel like autumn. Kate and I would return to boarding school at the end of April wearing our winter uniforms.
“You’ve already had a whole week of no school, lucky.” Jack said.
“Ja,” I said, “I’d rather not have though.”
Jack touched my arm. “Sorry, man. That was stupid.”
I shrugged. “I know what you mean. It’s going to be strange going back to normal life.”
“Especially for your mom.”
I nodded to show Jack that I agreed with him, but to say it out loud felt like a betrayal. My mother’s increasing isolation was a constant worry for both Kate and I, but loyalty was expected. It wasn’t done to complain and I definitely didn’t want our family to seem as vulnerable as we were. Especially with Jack’s father sniffing around our farm, and after the slap this morning, and the Rosie and Ruth story, which I still didn’t fully understand. I made my voice light and said, “Ma will be fine,” but I was not at all certain this was true.
“I’ll check in on her when you’re gone,” Jack said.
I nudged his thigh with mine. “Thanks.”
“It’ll be strange for me too, not having you around all the time.”
I looked at his face hoping to find more meaning than his words conveyed, but his eyes were closed. I imagined that he was picturing this familiar space, the willow, the reeds, the blue-grey gums with their bitter leaves, just as I was in that moment – entirely silent, without either of us here, disturbed only by the flick of a returning kingfisher or a leaf drifting down to float away on the current. I stretched out alongside him and allowed my arm to roll open until the back of my hand came to rest against his side. The sun was warm on my cheeks, my arms, my thighs and belly, and yet all my awareness was concentrated on the few square centimetres that pulsed against Jack’s skin.
“You are lucky though,” Jack said in a quiet voice.
“Why?” I asked even as I knew what he was saying. I’d come to understand things about the Turners I had not known before. Reasons Jack might prefer to be away at boarding school. Even the memory of my father seemed preferable to the presence of his. I willed myself not to glance back at his broken fingers and searched instead for a silver lining. “Boarding school is not so great. There are too many rules. You’ve got a lot more freedom here.”
“Freedom.” Jack expelled a puff of air with the word, and his body flinched in disagreement.
“You’ll see what it’s like when you join the Air Force and you can’t just do whatever you want all the time.”
Jack pushed himself onto his elbows to check on his fishing line. The float continued to bob, unmolested, in the water.
I laced my fingers across my belly, stroking the hot patch of skin on the back of my hand, and squinted up at his shoulder and the underside of his jaw.
“Doesn’t look like that’s going to happen now.”
“Why not?”
“My father wants me here.”
I knew that Jack was talking about his father’s plan to take over our farm. Part of me wanted to understand how much Jack had to do with the portion of the plan that included him and Kate getting married, but another part was too afraid to ask. Too afraid to get confirmation and maybe see excitement from him.
“Tell him you don’t want to be a farmer. Ma told me your dad liked being a soldier. He should understand.”
Jack didn’t respond. He sat up, faced the river, and hooked his arms over his knees.
“Just talk to him,” I said. “You never know.”
He moved his shoulders in a short, resigned shrug. The muscles worked behind his jaw.
I’d seen enough to grasp that for me to suggest that Jack “just talk” to his father might not be as simple for him as it had been for me. The temptation to tell him that I’d seen his father at the barn the day of my father’s funeral pressed against my tongue, but I recalled the desperate sound his father had made, and the words would not come. Instead, I rested my open hand on Jack’s lower back. He drew in a deep breath that expanded his ribs, and his shoulders softened as he sighed it out. He plucked a stalk of wild grass and used the thin stem to scratch under his bandage.
“Fish aren’t biting,” he said.
“It’s too hot.”
We both looked up at the sky. Not a single cloud interrupted the wash of blue. I was still resting my hand on Jack’s back. The moment of offering him comfort had passed, but I didn’t know how to remove it without drawing attention to it still being there. Also, I liked what it suggested, that I could easily touch him, as if he were mine. I moved my fingers slowly inwards and out again against his skin. “What are the girls like at your school?”
Jack rolled the grass stalk into a soft bundle and flicked it away. He leaned back on his elbows and I pulled my arm out of the way. His forearm butted up against mine and his knee dropped against my thigh. I lay very still and closed my eyes.
“I never noticed,” he said. I heard the movement of his head in the shift of his voice and peeped out from beneath my eyelashes. I followed his eyes as they moved down my body and my legs, until he was facing the river again.
“I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true. I don’t notice other girls.”
All my senses leapt like puppies at a chew toy at the word “other”. Other girls? Girls who weren’t me?
“Anyway, what’s got you so interested? Are you writing a book?”
He lay back with his arms bent behind his head and closed his eyes. Jack’s breathing slowed and grew even. It was hot in the sun, but I didn’t want to move in case I disturbed him, or our closeness. A fly buzzed across my ear and settled on my cheek. I shook my head and it hummed into the distance. Light folded in a bright geometry behind my lids and my limbs grew heavy. My thoughts thickened and grew quiet, and I allowed myself to drift towards sleep.
***
I woke to a rhythmic plop of something landing alongside my head, then being dragged away. Landing again, and slowly being drawn back. Jack was not lying next to me. I opened my eyes. A small bunch of forget-me-nots, with tiny, pale purple petals, landed on the towel alongside my head. The wild bouquet was knotted with a grass stalk and hooked at the end of Jack’s line. He was casting from the water’s edge, up to where I lay, putting the flowers next to my shoulder, then reeling them back. I caught the bouquet and stopped the line from travelling.
Jack reeled in, following the shortening line until he was next to me.
“Myosotis,” I said, rubbing a small, furred petal between my fingers. “It means mouse’s ear, in Greek.”
Jack was wet, as if he’d just walked out of the river. He knelt next to me on the towel and unhooked the bouquet.
I sat up, and when he didn’t move away, I leaned towards him.
It was my first kiss. When he parted his lips, I did the same, eager to appear experienced and unafraid, even as my entire body thrummed with blood and nerves. His skin was cool but his mouth was hot, and it took me a moment to organise what it was I was touching; his lips, mine, my tongue, then his. I was surprised at how alive and insistent it was, and that I could be heartbroken and happy at the same time. DM
The Light Remains by Samantha Keller was published by Modjaji Books in March 2026. It is available for a retail price of R330.