Good evening everyone! It seems as if my mind knows that school is about to begin again soon so I have began to dwindle in my writing. I am well aware that as school begins, I may not be able to post as much as I want to. But in any case, I will like to catch up for now.
This post is for Friday January 6, 2017
It’s almost as if every time I set my mind on heading out with friends or just enjoying the last few days of my vacation RAIN COMES POURING DOWN. As the rain fell almost violently upon our roof top, my mind went on a wild trip to a place as I day dreamed..
Sunday morning was a cold one; it was so cold mom started making jokes about Petite Martinique expecting snow soon. It was really freezing and it was the first time in my fifteen years living in BrownsVille that I was shivering this much on a morning. It was 7:15am and my sister just woke up. We all said our morning greetings and journeyed to the kitchen to get something to fill our aching stomachs. That morning, there was no fruit juice in the juice mug on the table, but there was a pot of boiling cocoa tea on the stove which my mom made to warm us up. It was much needed!
No matter how old we were, cocoa tea always seemed to make our day. I sat on the chair next to my brother James who was still dozing off with cacajay in his eyes,
“Boy wake up dey!” My sister shouted, “when time for you to sleep in the night you dey on computer talking to people. Get up dey! And go and wash out da cacajay in you eye too eh.”
James made an angry face but got up to do as Petra commanded. He was thirteen years old and no matter how much he disliked her discipline, he respected Petra because she was the second in command at home to my mother.
James and I never knew our father; in fact, of the four of us who lived in the house, Petra and my mother were the only ones who did. I was only two years old when he left so there isn't much to remember. There was one time I heard Petra saying to mom that she couldn’t seem to remember anything much about him except for his eyes and the smell of his cologne. She was seven years old when our father packed his bags and walked out on our mother saying he was going to St. Vincent for a job he was offered. I heard that he said he would return in six months but that six months turned into six years, and then almost sixteen.
My mother never seems to speak about him and my sister Petra never want to tell me about the man. It doesn't matter how much I beg her, she would never share. I think sometimes she is a little sad to tell me because she doesn’t want me getting attached to the idea of him as she did. There was this one time when I was passing with my head down because my teacher said some mean things about me, I heard Miss Millie say that I was hanging my head low in shame and stretching my lip long as Pearl's air strip how Miss Janice (mommy) used to hang her head in shame when my father left her.
Miss Millie is our neighbor in BrownsVille. She is a nice lady but she and mommy can't pull anymore. Before the distance between them was evident, Miss Millie and mommy used to be good friends. They weren't best friends but they used to watch out for each other. That's not so much now as before because Miss Millie said some things about mommy to a friend of hers and the friend brought back news for mommy.
Me, I never used to like to get in big people business so I try my best not to ask mommy anything about her and my father's business. The few things I asked her, she embarrassed me so much I try my best not to do it again. My sister was seven, I was no more than two years old and my brother James was in mommy's belly. But sometimes I wish I was a little older so I could remember at least one thing about him.
Another time I heard Miss Millie say... (but bunjay, when you think about it, Miss Millie real like to mind people business in truth aa). Anyway, Miss Millie said that just as James and daddy has the same name, it's just as he and daddy look alike. She said same walk, same talk, same behavior, same how daddy used to put his hand over his head when he sleeping on the veranda, James used to do the same thing too when she used to baby sit him for mommy. She said she hopes James doesn't come out like daddy and walk out on his family too because he ha wayward ways.
A rush of cold breeze came through the kitchen window and blew the tissue off the plate that was covering the coconut bakes. The smell filled my nostrils and made my mouth water. I could feel the saliva gushing down my throat the same way the water nut gushes down my throat when Petra, James and I used to go searching for them. I was very hungry, so I reached over the table to take my slice when i felt wax!!! I got one hot slap across my hand; it stung me so bad. It felt just the way mybones sting you when you're just minding your own business.
"Like you start to lose your respect eh little girl. Ent we does pray before we eat here? Watch girl! Doh play de beast wid de long ears eh!"
Hmm. I pulled back my hand quick quick. I don't play jokes with mommy when I hear her talking about prayers. That woman is a serious prayer warrior. Mom is serious as a judge when it comes to prayers. She is as serious as the viruses that come around in carnival season. She doesn't make jokes about it at all and I don't do it either.
"Sorry." I replied as I hung my head in shame
"Since she so hungry mouth, let she pray." Petra lashed back at me.
I didn't even bother to make a fuss with Petra. There was this one time Miss Millie said.....(boy wa kinda stupidness is dat? Miss Millie real does mind people business boy wah. Ah never realize how fass the woman was)
Yes, I heard Miss Millie saying that as similar as James is to daddy, so is Petra to mommy. She said mommy egg make she own child and daddy sperm makes he own chile. She said Cheryl (me) is the only one who take piece of she mudda and she father. She even said, all who want to say me mudda horn me father and he children is not his that's why he leave, only want to air dey mouth cuz looks can't mislead.
And with all these things you hear Miss Millie says about us, you could easily assume that Miss Millie and my mother are best friends but you will be surprised to know that my mother and Miss Millie are not on speaking terms. You would expect from someone on the island to bad talk their enemy when they disagree but not Miss Millie. And just as you would expect, Miss Millie said to her one day in both of our presence that she respects my mother that's why she is not bothering by their simple misunderstanding that had driven a wedge between them. James with his inquisitive self asked Marcus (Miss Millie's son) not too long ago why his mother and mommy don't talk to each other. Marcus came back to say to James,
"me mother say to tell you that your mother too selfish."
James laughed and turned to Marcus, "That's a lie. Me mother said your mother too fass and that is something none of us could deny!"
"Hurry up and pray na girl! " James shout for across the table as I bolted out of my day dream
"For these and all other gifts to us God's holy name we praise, amen"
~
It was a quarter to nine when we arrrived at the Triscalone Nazicost Church. If it's one thing about Mrs. Janice Peters, it's her time management. My mother is always early where ever she is going and whatever she is doing. Hmm, Miss Millie was telling cousin Susan the other day that mommy is the first woman she knows who was early for her wedding. (But is like I fass too. How I always minding Miss Millie business so even though she minding ours?)
Mommy walked towards the entrance of the church and looked up at the sign, and for the last three years we have been going to this church, mommy laughs at the sign every morning. Triscalone Nazicost Church. She always says that she would have never believed the day someone would actually form a Nazicost denomination. There was one time when I asked her why she was laughing she said to me that when she used to study Social Work at the Caribbean Nazarene College, a lot of the Nazarene boys used to date the Pentecost girls and vice versa. She said one of the couples got married and before long, they couldn't handle the travelling back and forth to and from their churches. The husband, being a Nazarene Pastor, started the Nazicost movement and since then, most of the couples started coming to Petite Martinique from all over the Caribbean. It wasn't long until the husband was training other ministers and now, he has a branch in almost all of the the Caribbean islands and one is South Africa.
As we walked through the door, I could feel the warmth of the hearts of the saints at church. I never felt that way with the other church we used to go to. The people were really friendly from day one and not once did anyone turn since we came. All the love we received was still evident. The Sunday school session was always interactive, the worship was great and the word was timely. I loved coming to church on a Sunday morning.
At ten minutes to twelve we walked down the dirt path to our home. I loved where we lived on Conch street; apart from the little squabble with mommy and Miss Millie, everyone seemed to genuinely love each other. I have known everyone from since I was a baby and the same faces are still present there. If the parents had died, you could still see their faces in their children. As mommy walked ahead in the front, James, Petra and I were dragging our feet along not too far behind. James and I talked about the new games we played in Sunday school with teacher Cinty and Petra spoke about the project the junior adults had to do on Relationship Rules.
Suddenly, mommy stopped dead in her tracks. We were a way off from the house but we could see that her eyes were fixed on the veranda. What on earth was she looking at that had her startled? It was almost as if she had seen a ghost. James looked at me and I looked at Petra; we then hurried to her and I looked at my mother.
"Mommy wa do you?" I asked. "Allu wa do mommy?"
All our eyes then fell on the figure in the veranda and whatever it is that startled mommy seemed to startle Petra too.
"James who dey?" I questioned my brother
"Cherry how ah go know. Me and you was all in the back! Ah doh know who dey but I going and see."
My brother was always a fearless one and I was the coward. I never liked confrontations and I was scared of everything. I was scared on insects, needles, snakes, kittens, exams, lash, homework, the world. Man you name it and I was afraid of it. I was even more scared of whomever or whatever silhouette we were seeing on the veranda. James walked up to the house and I trailed behind him. For a big sister, it was shameful that my little brother was the protector.
"Allu let's go on" I finally heard my mother say in a faint voice. She took Petra by the hand and I could see Petra wincing in slight pain as my mother gripped her hand firmly. As my family troop walked closer and closer to the house, the shadowy figure seemed to take form. It was a man. He stood up, took the brown cap off his head and put down the adidas bag he was carrying. Tears streamed down my mother's face as she continued to walk. Petra was crying too but James and I were so confused.
It was until I walked closer to the house I could see what they were frantic about; it was almost as if I was looking at James forty years ahead. I looked at him and he looked back at me with a look of confusion. I didn't need anyone to tell me that I was looking at my father because I knew for myself that it was him. Just as Miss Millie said, James looked just like him and he looked like James.
I had not the slightest clue who he was, why he left and what on earth he was doing back here but I wanted to know, and I wanted to know everything. I wanted to jump on him and hug him, I wanted to put some slaps on him. I wanted to ask him all the questions I needed to know about him, I wanted to ask him why he abandoned us, why he abandoned me. I wanted to tell him to go because we were fine without him. But all I did was look back at my mother and I could have seen that her surprise and tears changed to anger. I knew that look all too well so I stepped aside and I pulled James with me. No one was about to get in the way of Janice Peters when she was angry....
To be continued...
cacajay - Grenadian creole for mucus that builds up at the corner of one's eyes
can't pull - cannot agree
brought back news - to report the gossip you overheard to the person that was spoken about
bunjay - Grenadian creole meaning "good Lord"; a form of exclamation
he ha wayward ways - to be delinquent
water nut - coconut water
mybones - a type of wasp found in Grenada
Doh play de beast wid de long ears - an expression commonly used in Grenada meaning 'don't be an arse'
hungry mouth - to be greedy
air dey mouth - to talk nonsense
