Breadfruit (17 page)

Johno had to think fast. When his woman got out of control (like his mama was right now), he never tried the talking-sense
technique, because that technique didn’t work in these situations. He had a better technique, and it was called the shock
technique. Johno had never screamed at his mama before. He had told her off a few times but always between his teeth. But
right this moment, he had to scare his mama. Shock her. Wake her up. Make her stop that bloody car before she killed them
all.

“STOP THIS FUCKING CAR NOW!” It was an order.

And Mama Teta, calm and composed, put her foot on the brake. She made sure the blinker was blinking, and carefully swerved
to the side of the road, then she turned the motor off. Not long after, the gendarme parked his car next to Lily’s car.

Johno, sweating and trembling, got out of the car to explain the situation to the gendarme. This little drive might cost him
a few thousand francs. He had to win the gendarme’s sympathy. Surely the gendarme would understand. He had a mother too. And
a woman, perhaps. He must know that women, on the whole, do bizarre things.

“Good afternoon, monsieur.” Johno was all respect for the skinny little gendarme walking toward him.

“Good afternoon.” The gendarme went straight past Johno to the driver.

Mama Teta looked up to the gendarme and did her air of pity. Then she looked at him properly and flashed a big smile like
we do when we recognize somebody.

“Good afternoon, monsieur.” Mama Teta’s voice was singing.

“Madame.”

Johno stood still, quite stunned with his mama.

“May I see your driver’s license, please, madame?” the gendarme asked.

Again, singing, “Certainly, monsieur… here, monsieur.” There was a twinkle in Mama Teta’s eyes.

The gendarme checked that the woman in the photograph was the woman sitting behind the wheel. Then, obviously satisfied, he
handed the driver’s license back.

“Do you own the car?” he asked.

And Mama Teta cackled. “Do I own the car?
Ah non,
monsieur. It’s the car of my niece and her name is Lily. She’s in France now… just for a little holiday. Lily, she asked
me to look after her car until she comes back. And I’m just taking my son and my grandchildren for a little drive.”

The gendarme briefly glanced at the three very silent kids sitting in the back of the car. Then he looked at Mama Teta again.
“When is… Madame Lily… coming back? Any idea?”

“Oh, Lily is coming back very soon.” Mama Teta nodded several times.

The gendarme smiled. He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and handed his business card to Mama Teta. She thanked him for
giving her his card.

“Would you care to tell your niece to give me a call as soon as she comes back?” the gendarme asked. “There are a few things
I need to discuss with her… about her car. For example, she must replace the two front tires. This is a rather urgent
matter.”

Mama Teta put the gendarme’s business card in her bag. “Certainly, monsieur, it’s a very urgent matter. I told my niece Lily
to get a new car. This one is a bit hard to drive. I’m going to make sure that Lily calls you as soon as she comes back.”
Mama Teta spoke louder every time she said “Lily.”

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, monsieur.” Mama Teta made a little movement with her hand.

Johno, even more stunned now, got back in the car, and Mama Teta waited for the gendarme to do a fast U-turn and disappear.

Johno was silent. He had expected his mother to cry, beg the gendarme for mercy, tell him about all her financial problems,
her heart problem, her whole life, but she did none of these. She just smiled and cackled.

Mama Teta whistled, then she began to laugh. “
Ah hia hia
… that Lily, eh? Playing around with gendarmes, eh? I’m going to give her plenty when she comes back. And that stupid
gendarme, thinking I don’t know anything. Every time I said ‘Lily,’ his eyes sparkled, and I bet his thing was hard.”

“What are you talking about?” Johno asked.

“Eh, look in the glove box.”

Johno opened the glove box. There was a bundle of photographs. The photographs were all of Lily with a man at her side. Johno
flicked through the photographs and there was the gendarme, holding on to beautiful, naughty Lily and grinning with pride
like a fisherman who has caught a big fish.

Johno put the photographs back in the glove box and shook his head.

Women… they sure do bizarre things.

A
fter a week gathering quotes and thinking about food, drinks, the wedding dress, the wedding rings—all the things that need
to be organized before you actually say “I do”—Materena has a headache.

Aue,
there’s so much to be organized!

But today Materena isn’t going to think about the organization. She’s just going to think of nothing. Blank the wedding out
of her mind. Relax on the sofa. It’s so rare she’s on her own, but today she’s managed it. She looks at the ceiling, enjoying
the peace and quiet. She might have a nap or she might just stay in a horizontal position on the sofa with her eyes open.

She’s going to do whatever she wants.

Pito is on a visiting tour with Ati, which means he won’t get home until dark. The kids are at her mother Loana’s house until
she gets sick of them and walks them back—in two hours, maybe three if Materena is lucky. She has told the kids they better
behave or they’ll be in big trouble. She’s hoping they will stay with their grandmother till late afternoon.

Materena has cleaned the whole house, everything smells nice, everything has been put away, there are no clothes to wash,
no clothes to hang, no clothes to iron, and the sheets have been changed.

Materena feels blissful.

Then Mama Roti’s head appears at the louvers. “
Hou-hou!
”

Materena springs to her feet like the sofa is burning hot, and her hands automatically rearrange her uncombed hair. Ah,
fiu!
Materena is so annoyed.

Mama Roti bangs on the door. “What’s this locking the door in the middle of the day! What’s this pulling the curtains closed!”

Materena is determined to tell Mama Roti that today it’s impossible for her to have a talking session. She’s going to say
her doctor has prescribed rest. She doesn’t want to talk.

Materena unlocks the door and Mama Roti barges into the house. There is a woman with her whom Mama Roti introduces as “someone
I know.” And to the Someone Mama Roti Knows, Mama Roti says, “This is Materena. Pito’s half.”

Pito’s half! Materena thinks, What! I’m a mango now? Ah, that woman! What a nerve! No manners! But Materena can’t really be
too cranky at Mama Roti, because when Loana talks about Pito to someone, she calls him Materena’s shadow.

“I won’t stay long, girl,” Mama Roti says. “Just one minute. I’ve got so many things to do. So many things to do, but it’s
so hot.” Then she looks at the floor.

“Eh, what’s this? Where’s the linoleum?”

“It’s at the dump,” Materena lies. She doesn’t want to hear about that story of how you don’t put carpet on top of linoleum
again.

“When did you put carpet down?” Mama Roti is now bending over and feeling the carpet with the palm of her hand.

“Four days ago.”

Mama Roti gives Materena a suspicious look and makes herself comfortable on the sofa. There and then Materena guesses the
visit is not going to be a one-minute visit, it’s going to be more like a few-hours visit. Mama Roti fans herself with the
palm of her hand. Materena invites the woman Mama Roti has brought with her to sit and gets them a cordial.

The woman sips her cordial and Mama Roti gulps hers.

“Can I have another one?” Mama Roti hands her empty glass to Materena.

Materena goes and gets Mama Roti another glass of cordial. After gulping her second glass of cordial, Mama Roti goes on about
how she feels so much better. It’s less hot, all of a sudden.

“I bought a lottery ticket last week,” she says.

“
Ah oui?
” Materena is not interested at all.

“Girl, if my numbers were three, seven, and nine instead of eleven, four, and two, you’d be facing a millionaire right this
second.”

“Ah.” Materena has heard too many stories about Mama Roti nearly winning the lottery and what she would do with her millions.

On and on Mama Roti goes about how she would have spent her millions. New house, car, a trip to Lourdes, a speedboat for Pito,
one hundred thousand francs into Materena’s bank account—the one for the kids.

“Thank you.” Materena always has to say thank you when Mama Roti distributes the millions of francs she nearly won.

Mama Roti drifts into a reverie, which nobody interrupts. She smiles and sighs. Her friend is still sipping her cordial and
looks like she’s going to fall asleep, so she jumps at Mama Roti’s exclamation.

“And where’s Pito!”

“He’s with Ati,” Materena replies. “They won’t be back until late tonight.”

“And the kids?”

“They’re with Mamie. They won’t be back until tonight.”

“So you’re all by yourself, girl,” Mama Roti says. “I’m glad I came to visit and keep you company, but I can’t stay long.
I’ve got an appointment in town in an hour—an important appointment.”

Well, Materena is sure happy about that important appointment.

But two hours later Mama Roti is still talking.

“Mama Roti,” Materena says, “what about your important appointment?”

Mama Roti shrugs, and admits that it’s fine if she’s late for that important appointment. In fact, it’s fine if she doesn’t
go to that important appointment at all. And the important appointment isn’t really an important appointment—it’s just an
appointment with the dentist. And Mama Roti is not in the mood to have a noisy drill in her mouth today.

“I’ll make another appointment with the dentist, he’s a good friend, almost family—don’t be concerned, girl.” Mama Roti pats
Materena on the leg.

And now, she says, she’s a bit hungry.

Materena goes and makes sandwiches. As she’s cutting the tomatoes, she’s tempted to escape through the back door and go hide
on the roof.

Loana does this. When she hears someone calling whom she doesn’t want to see, she hides on the roof and stays there until
the person gives up calling and goes away. When Materena was little she used to have to lie to visitors that her mother had
just ducked out to the Chinese store. She hated doing this and would always tell the priest at confession. Leilani is the
same, she doesn’t like lying when Materena is avoiding visitors.

Materena would have gone into hiding on the roof as soon as she’d heard Mama Roti’s calling or whistle, but Mama Roti didn’t
do the polite warning you’re supposed to do when you visit somebody.

What if I’d been doing the sexy loving with Pito on the sofa? Materena laughs at the thought of Mama Roti peeping through
the louvers and seeing her son in action with his woman.

Mama Roti chomps through her sandwich, and the friend nibbles hers. Materena wonders if the friend is going to say a word
at some stage. She feels she should start a conversation with her, but what if Mama Roti’s friend turns out to be worse than
Mama Roti in the talking department?

Mama Roti looks into Materena’s eyes. “Girl, you look so tired.”

“I
am
tired.” Materena sighs like she’s very exhausted.

“Have some rest.” Mama Roti gives Materena the
I understand
look.

She says that she’s glad she came to visit, because, in her opinion, if she hadn’t come to visit, Materena would have been
running around the house looking for something to do.

“At least now you’re in the sitting position, girl.” Mama Roti makes herself more comfortable on the sofa and begins her tale
about how people do too much these days—in her day . . .

Materena drifts off. She’s not in the living room. She’s… she’s outside watering the plants. How long she waters the
plants, she’s not sure.

But Mama Roti’s shrieking voice abruptly interrupts her escapade. “You shut your mouth, you! You don’t know what you’re talking
about!”

Mama Roti’s friend is up and she’s all red in the face. “
I
don’t know what I’m talking about! It’s you who don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Mama Roti’s friend thanks Materena for the cordial, the sandwiches, and the hospitality, and marches out the door.

“That woman,” Mama Roti says. “That shriveled-up prune… I’ve been trying to get rid of her since this morning, but, that
empty-headed woman, she wouldn’t get the message, she had to keep following me around. Now that she’s gone, we can talk about
more private subjects.”

And so Mama Roti goes on complaining about the Someone She Knows, whose name is Mama Neno, and how Mama Neno follows Mama
Roti too much these days and all Mama Roti wants is a bit of space.

“She used to be my best friend,” Mama Roti says, “but it doesn’t mean she can suffocate me.”

And then Mama Roti explains to Materena that she and Mama Neno were very close friends when they were young girls, until Mama
Neno got involved with this horrible man. But Mama Neno’s horrible man had just recently died, and so she decided to rekindle
her friendship with Mama Roti.

Materena listens to Mama Roti and waits for her to get tired of talking about Mama Neno.

Mama Roti finally stops talking. She looks at the carpet. She looks at it for a very long time and Materena wonders why Mama
Roti is looking at her carpet like she’s seen that carpet before.

“Girl, what’s happening?” Mama Roti’s eyes are still on the carpet.

“What’s happening?” Materena has no idea what Mama Roti is talking about.

“That new carpet.” Mama Roti points to it. “When women change things around the house, it means there’s something in the air.”

“Mama Roti, I was just
fiu
of the linoleum,” Materena says.

“Are you sure this is the reason?”

“Of course!”

Mama Roti’s eyes are now trying to penetrate Materena’s mind. “The linoleum has been in this house for as long as my son has
been in this house. And now there’s no more linoleum, and to me it means that there’s going to be some changes around here.”