‘Lord God Almighty! Yu di image of yu father.’ Mama so shocked I think her hair turn an even whiter shade of grey.
‘Come here bwoy. Come here in the light let me see yu.’
Clifton ease up to the bed and I get up so he can sit on the chair right there next to her. Mama take both her hands and clasp his. And then she look at him, deep, like she studying to see if it really him or his father.
‘Clifton Brown.’ She wait and then she say, ‘You a good man Clifton Brown?’
‘I try to be Mama. I try to be.’
‘Good. Yu need to be. To make up for di sins a yu father.’ And then she take her hand and pat his, light and gentle like it a true act of motherly love while she repeat to herself, ‘Yu need to be.’ And then she just lay there and fall asleep.
When we step out on to the veranda Babs got the coffee she pouring and the extra chairs she bring from the kitchen so we can all sit down.
‘The doctor say she not going last that much longer.’
‘What wrong wid her?’
Babs just shrug her shoulders. ‘He nuh know.’
‘He don’t know? So how long she been like this?’
‘A few months that is all. She go downhill fast that is why we think she going be quick. Before that she was busy-busy ’bout her business but last little while me and Leroy been coming over every day to see what she need doing and fetching for her.’
I sip the weak instant coffee she serve us with.
‘The nearest hospital in Montego Bay so we cyan be trekking her ’cross there every other week. And the doctor that come to Savanna-la-Mar, well it not that regular and him up to him neck because is everybody from miles ’round here knocking down his door.’
‘It cyan be easy for yu with a husband and four children to care for yuself.’
‘Four children, Gloria. Yu know how much hungah that is? And Leroy got three already and another one on the way. It trying but yu manage. What else can yu do?’
Then she say, ‘Oh, I got something for yu.’ And she get up and go inside. When she come back she pull a little frock outta a brown paper bag and hold it up so we can all see. It blue and white with some frilly little sleeve and a ribbon tie ’round the back.
‘Yu think Esther will like it?’
And just before I know Marcia going open her mouth and spoil the moment, I say, ‘It lovely Babs. It good of yu to think of her,’ which please her and put a smile on her lips while she fold up the dress and put it back in the bag. I get up and take it from her and hug her and say thank you, knowing that the dress far too small for Esther since it probably made for a five-year-old child. But it nuh matter. She think of it and that was more than I do.
Later on Babs’s husband show up. A scrawny little farmer with baggy pants and dirty fingernails, and boots that not got no laces in. He say he leave the children with his mother because it was too far to bring them this time of night, which vex Babs because she wanted them to come meet their aunties from Kingston.
‘It nuh matter Babs. We see them tomorrow. We here three days so there is plenty of time.’
But she not listening. She too set on chastising Scrawny and telling him over and over, ‘I nuh tell yu to bring dem over here? I nuh tell yu that?’ And all he do is walk away from her as she following his every step ’round the kitchen like he fraid she going stretch out her arm and box his ear.
When we finish eat and wash up Babs and Scrawny go home taking off down the dirt track in the rusty little truck he come here in. After we sit on the veranda and drink some of the Appleton that Clifton bring with him, I reckon it time to settle Mama and go to bed. Me and Marcia share the little single bed that Mama used to sleep in while Clifton take the same canvas cot of Leroy’s that we put up in the kitchen just like in the old days when the door was shut and the kerosene lamp put out for the night.
Next morning Leroy come with his two boys to see how we doing and if we need anything. He a hefty man, tall and broad with hands that you can tell been labouring year after year for nothing at all.
He hug us hard and afterwards I stand back and look at him and say, ‘Yu sure yu my little brother? How come yu get so big?’
He laugh and turn to his boys and say, ‘I tell yu she would say that.’ And they grin and shuffle their barefoot like they happy their daddy right ’bout everything.
Leroy say he going do some jobs for Mama and since he there all day it all right if we want to go do something else like see Mr Chen or whatnot.
‘Mr Chen still got the shop in town?’
‘Yah man. But di son do most a di work now. Old Mr Chen all he do is sidung there and shout out his orders and spit in di bucket he got by di side.’
So we go into town but Mr Chen can’t hardly remember me. His son say he can’t see so good no more and anyway he losing his mind. But when he hear Clifton’s voice he remember that fine.
‘Clifton Brown is that you bwoy?’
Clifton laugh and bend down where Mr Chen sitting and take his hand and shake it firm.
‘Yu sound just like yu father.’
Clifton don’t say nothing, and Mr Chen don’t have no more conversation neither, so after we buy some patties and soda, and pick up some things for the children, we jump back in the car and head up to the church where me and Marcia sit in that same pew and laugh in unison with our own echo ’bout how the pastor used to slap down on the Bible between every single word while we sing out, ‘Hallelujah, praise be to God.’
And then Clifton surprise me because what he want to do is go drive up the hill to the shack that Barrington Maxwell used to live in.
‘What yu want to go do a thing like that for?’
‘Yu don’t want to see it, Gloria? Yu never think of it yuself??’
And while I am wondering what Mama meant ’bout him looking like his father and Mr Chen recognising his voice, Marcia say, ‘I never think I would ever set foot inside that place again.’
We sit there silent in the car, and then Clifton just start the engine and head off towards the mountain road. He park up and we get out and stand there on the tarmac almost like we couldn’t decide whether or not to actually look for the track that lead down to Barrington’s shack. But we do it and when we reach there we stop. And even though the roof cave in and the windows broke and the place tumbling down with all sorta weeds growing over it, you could still see it was the same coalman’s hovel where I beat in Barrington’s head, and before that, where my stomach heave at the smell of him and my head swirl with the heat and my skin shred under his big, dry, calloused hands.
And then Marcia start to cry with a wailing that burst outta her like a dam that well up and rupture because nothing could stop the water from flooding out. She drop to her knees in the dirt, and with her hands over her face she bawl. Loud and heavy with a pain that was coming from so deep inside her it cut through me just to hear the sound of it.
I bend down and put my arm ’round her shoulder and then I move in front and take her fully in my arms just as the tears started to roll down my own cheeks and the rocks dig into my own knees in a way that gave a physical meaning to the feelings I had inside.
When I look up I see Clifton was crying as well. Silent and slow, but steady and strong. Standing there with his arms wrapped ’round himself like he was trying to bring some comfort to a body that remembered some unholy truth about Barrington and that shack. And then suddenly he launch himself at the wall and pound so hard with his fists and shoulder and feet that the whole rotten thing fall to the ground taking with it all the crumbling remains of our torment. All except for what was left inside each one of us.
Babs tell us to come by her house so we can meet her children. The place just like Mama’s, wooden and cramped and dingy even though she try to brighten it up with some colourful curtains and a nice fresh tablecloth. I give her the things we pick up for the children in Mr Chen’s shop, all the time feeling bad that I never thought to bring anything from Kingston because all the time I was getting ready to come the only thing on my mind was Barrington. Not even Mama like it should have been.
Babs act like she grateful and tell the children they must wait ’til later when she going divvy up the gifts between them. And then she settle us down and serve the oxtail stew she cook special. It taste good and take me way back because it was always a favourite of Mama’s.
All through the meal she fussing at the children and chastising Scrawny for this and that. And when we done she pour out some more watery coffee and we step into the yard.
‘Babs, we going back to Mama’s now and spend the evening and tomorrow with her. But I want to thank yu for how gracious yu been to us coming here. And I want to say that if yu need anything . . .’
‘Thank yu, Gloria. I can see that you and Marcia do good fi yuself in Kingston. What wid di frocks yu wearing and di house I come see when little Esther born and di car and everything. That is good fi yu. I am glad. But we don’t need nothing from yu. The good Lord is providing all we want for. We content. We happy. And each and every day we give thanks to Jesus Christ, King of Kings, Lord of Lords.’ And then she turn to me and smile. A thin smile just across her lips like her face was almost cracking itself to do it.
Mama wasn’t no brighter that evening or the next day. She just lay there drifting off to sleep and waking up again. Me and Marcia sit there anyway, and when Mama could raise her head and talk she do it and we pass the time with her, fetching a drop of cornmeal porridge or a glass of water when she wanted it. And all the questions I had in my head about who my father was or what she mean when she say what she did to Clifton couldn’t have no answer because there was no way I could bring myself to ask her given the condition she was in. All I could do was sit there and chide myself for never having come back before. And puzzle over how it was that such a strong, vital woman could have shrivelled to the size of this miniature person in front of me.
The next day we drive back to Kingston with Marcia sitting next to Clifton talking so excited like she just been released from years of confinement. Me, I watch the country pass by and wonder how anything was ever going to change in Jamaica. How anything could make a difference to this rural poverty, or bring proper medical care or education.
And as for my worries about people asking us questions we didn’t want to answer, nobody asked us anything. And as for my questions for Clifton about his father, and what happen at the shack, that would have to wait for another time.
Three days after we get back Marcia telephone to say that she get a telegram from Babs that Mama had passed.
‘Yu think we should go back for the nine nights?’
My heart sink. ‘I don’t know that I want to do it Marcia. What you think?’
Marcia quiet at the other end, so I say, ‘If yu want to we can go, but I don’t think we can expect Clifton to be driving back over there so soon.’
Still she nuh say nothing.
‘Just tell me what yu thinking ’bout it. There not no point in you and me playing cat and mouse over it.’
She wait a minute and then she say, ‘I don’t want to do it, Gloria. That last visit was enough for me. Nobody going miss us anyway. They been carrying on all these years without us so what it matter?’
‘What about Babs and Leroy? Yu nuh think we should go there for them at least?’
But all I get from her was more silence.
‘I don’t think I can face it, Gloria. When I think ’bout Petersfield all I can think about is Barrington Maxwell and you and me in that shack that day. And then after we go there with Clifton it was over for me. That is the last memory I want to have. The last tears I want to shed over it. And the last time I want to set foot in that town.’
I think on it and then I say, ‘We got to go, Marcia. Never mind ’bout nine nights but we have to go to the funeral.’
‘We do?’
‘It Mama’s funeral. It got nothing to do with Barrington. And if we nuh go, it will only turn into another thing we cyan forgive ourselves for.’
So we go and Clifton drive. The service simple. The pastor preach and slap the Bible and we praise the Lord and sing. The little church cram full of people I never see before and just like Marcia say they none of them pay us any mind at all.
Afterwards when we go back to the house I give Scrawny the envelope with some money and the bank book for the account I open for them. And he just take it and say thank you like he already expecting what was in it.
Leroy more surprised when he reach out his hand. ‘So what dis, Gloria?’
‘A little help for the way.’
He peer into the envelope and then he look at me. ‘We don’t need dis yu know. We doing all right. Not no shame in being poor.’
‘I never say it was shameful.’
He stand there like he was turning things over in his mind and then he take out the money and put in his pocket and hand me back the bank book.
‘That no use in these parts. A post office order every now and again would help ease di pain though.’ And then he smile and wrap his arms ’round me.
I look at Marcia sitting there on the veranda with the red hibiscus in the flower bed behind her and the light breeze brushing the leaves and I think, ‘Yes, I knew it would come.’