Authors: Alex Wheatle
“An’ good to see yuh too! Bless yuh chile.”
“Yuh staying fe dinner, Preacher Mon?”
“Yes, ya mudder so kindly invite me.”
“Den cyan me borrow ya donkey? Me waan ride somewhere. Carmesha ’ave we own up der ah family plot. She ah toil ’pon we
land while yuh ah talk wid Levi.”
“Yes, of course me chile. Nuh go too far an’ give him ah water an’ mek him munch ’pon de sugar cane.”
Mounting the donkey, Jenny set him on a course to Isaac’s home. It was Jacob who answered the door and surprise struck him like a Jamaican yard dog being tossed a generous portion of prime beef.
“Ya mudder der-ya?” Jenny asked, looking over Jacob’s shoulder.
“Nuh, Jenny. She der ah market shopping. Did yuh waan see her?”
“Nuh, sa. Me come to see yuh.”
Jacob looked puzzled. “Yuh waan to study de Bible wid me, Jenny?”
Smiling with a confidence that she never knew she had, Jenny walked into the house. “How long yuh been waiting to court me?”
“From time ’pon time,” Jacob replied, trying to read Jenny’s intentions.
Striking a pose and pushing her chest out, Jenny recalled, “remember ya tell me dat me mus’ be meself an’ stop trying to be de perfect Christian girl?”
“Well, yes, Jenny. But I cyan’t see ya reasoning.”
Jenny grinned devilishly. “Well, see me here. Wha’ yuh gwarn to do wid me?”
Without hesitation, Jacob took Jenny by the hand and led her to his tiny bedroom. His bed was two mattresses placed on top of each other. A wooden broom handle, secured at each end inside an alcove, held his two pairs of suits and shirts. Church pamphlets, hymn sheets and service schedules were resting upon an aged wooden desk. Propped up on this, against the wall, was Jacob’s Bible. It was opened at the book of Proverbs.
Jenny, feeling her heartbeat accelerate, walked towards the Bible, picked it up and placed it face down upon the table. It was now or never, she thought. Me cyan be jus’ as sexy as Hortense. Me pretty like she. She then turned to Jacob, linking her arms around his neck. Without uttering another word and looking down at the floor, she began to unbutton Jacob’s shirt, kissing his chest as she did so. Jacob immediately responded by frantically pulling at Jenny’s clothes. They laughed at each other’s clumsy efforts to
undress one another. Jenny refused to meet Jacob’s eyes.
Naked, they dropped onto the bed, pleasuring each other for the next fifteen minutes until Jenny pulled Jacob on top of her. She braced herself for the pain she thought she would have to endure but as Jacob entered her, she closed her eyes and the image of a smiling Cilbert filled her mind. Jacob, withdrawing at the last moment, climaxed within a minute, leaving Jenny to wonder what all the fuss was about.
An hour later, she made love to him once more, shutting her eyes tight, attempting to induce a dream-like state with Cilbert. Jacob managed to endure a little longer and Jenny found that she enjoyed it more than the first time. But embarrassment was now warming her cheeks. She dressed quickly and before she departed, returned Jacob’s Bible to its original position. As a satisfied Jacob watched her leave, he wondered why she didn’t even say farewell or arrange their next liaison. Indeed, Jenny hadn’t said a word of affection or of anything else since she first entered his room. But these thoughts were soon discarded by his glad heart.
Informing Hortense of her secret trysts with Jacob, Jenny went into every detail. “Is it de same feeling yuh get wid Cilbert?” Jenny wanted to know. “When yuh lose all control of ya body an’ yuh get dis sweetness dat ripple inside of yuh? It mek me laugh when Jamaican mon advise we dat yuh should not ’ave sex before marriage. Becah dem
love
it! Yuh waan to see de look ’pon Jacob’s face when him juices ah rush t’rough him black bamboo! Cilbert’s face ever look so crease up an’ mad wid excitement?”
Hortense fell about laughing. “If Papa could hear yuh now! Nuh sweet liccle Jenny any more! Jenny, of course mon love it. But
we
love it too. Dat’s why me don’t lissen to de cranky woman who go to church.
Don’t ’ave sex, don’t do dis, don’t do dat
, dem say. But me bet me last red cent dat dem love sex an’ probably did ah love it before dem marry. Yes, Cilbert gwarn de same way. Him face ah crease an’ crease up ’til it cyan’t crease nuh more, an’ when him shot him juices it’s like relief mek him eyes close an’ him t’anking de Most High fe de pleasure. It’s ah cruel God to deny anybody dat pleasure.”
Holding onto Hortense’s every word, Jenny nodded. “Yes, me affe agree, but
don’t
tell nuhbody! Everybody t’ink me ah nice Christian girl.”
“But yuh affe tell Mama one day, Jenny. Yuh cyan’t keep dis secret. An’ yuh doing not’ing wrong. Yuh an’ Jacob are jus’ two people who love each udder. Fe true? Me truly glad dat yuh two come togeder. Jacob will never leave yuh, Jenny. He will never cheat ’pon yuh an’ he will do
anyt’ing
to mek sure ya happy. Yuh find ah good mon.”
Jenny hesitated before breaking out into a plastic smile that Hortense didn’t detect. “Yes, me do love him,” she said. “Jacob is ah sweet mon.”
“Den marry him,” insisted Hortense.
Why not? Jenny thought. It might make Cilbert jealous.
Jacob and Jenny married under an overcast sky in mid-May, 1954. Refusing to wear her mother’s baptism dress for her wedding, Jenny insisted that Jacob should find the money for a new dress. After much pleading, Jacob finally received the cash from his father. A more than happy Mrs Walters designed and made the ankle-length, laced-white dress. She named it ‘
the wisp of the north
’. Isaac, who guessed that his son was a virgin before courting Jenny, reluctantly conducted the service. He believed that a man only understood the ways of women after bedding plenty of them.
Everyone saw the disappointment in Isaac’s eyes when Jacob said, “
I do
!” As Jacob kissed his new bride, only Amy, observing Jenny’s undemonstrative body language towards Jacob, sensed something that was troubling. The photographer that Isaac hired had to work hard and tell a few jokes to coax Jenny’s smile out of her and it was Hortense who explained to guests that her sister was ‘mighty nervous’ about being the centre of attention.
Neville, who had given his grand-daughter away, whispered to Jacob, “me soon expect ah nex’ great-grandson!” Happy as any man could be on his wedding day, Jacob replied to Neville, “nuh fear, Custos. My dream come true an’ me an’ Jenny will provide nuff great-grandsons!”
The wedding reception was held in the church hall and Jenny danced longer with Cilbert than she did with her new husband who was busy accepting handshakes and slaps on the back. Cilbert, unaware of the pounding of Jenny’s heart, kissed his new sister-in-law upon the cheek at the conclusion of the dance as a gesture of congratulation. This act meant more to Jenny than the love-making with Jacob upon her wedding night, where she simply pulled Jacob on top of her and said, “me sweet darling, Jacob. Let we get dis over wid. It’s been ah long day an’ me well tired. An’ de rum punch gone to me head!”
During the summer of 1954, Amy found that she more often than not cooked only for Kwarhterleg and herself. Jenny was now living with Jacob, rarely visiting her mother’s home and Cilbert, enjoying a break from his studies, had Hortense with him at Mr DaCosta’s. Becoming bored of Kwarhterleg’s endless tale of woe about the love of his life, Joanne Lindus, Amy would trek up to Levi’s place where she was entertained by Carmesha; she would bear the gift of a bottle of rum. While Carmesha and herself drained the fire-water, becoming merry and jovial, Levi, who thought that women deserved a break from the monotony of country life, would cook a delicious fish supper. Indeed, Amy found Carmesha’s company more stimulating than her own daughters. Carmesha had no cause to question Amy’s love for her and she imagined how special the relationship was that Amy had with David.
It was a Friday night in August when Amy, tipsy and bleary-eyed, had just returned from a visit to Carmesha’s. Not able to sleep, she made herself a coffee. She decided to sit just outside her front door and take in the nocturnal sounds of the chirping insects and catch the night breeze upon her face, hoping it might well induce sleep.
Through her reddened eyes, Amy thought that she saw someone approaching from the crest of a hill – a towering, black silhouette. She blinked rapidly, trying to focus and indeed, there was a man coming towards her. He was tall and wore a straw hat. A crocus bag was draped over his left shoulder.
His long strides reaching Amy before she could express her
surprise, Joseph offered a warm smile. He raised his right arm and cupped Amy’s jaw with his hand. Amy clasped it and closed her eyes for a long second, pressing Joseph’s hand into her face. “Me here to stay,” whispered Joseph. “Nuh longer me foot yearn fe travelling. Me ’ave so much to tell yuh.”
Amy let go of Joseph’s hand and picked up her coffee. She drained half of the mug. “Joseph, ya hungry?” she asked.
“Yes, Amy. But de midnight hour pass an’ yuh sure yuh waan cook dis time ah night?”
“Nuh, sa! Yuh know where de kitchen der-ya an’ besides, me drink too much fire-water dis night. Me gone to me bed! Clothes affe wash ah river inna de marnin an’ me affe go up to Levi to give him ah money. Yuh cyan tell me wha’ yuh affe tell me when de rooster start holler. Nuh mek too much mess inna de kitchen an’
don’t
drink off me rum! An’ furder more, before yuh start chat me ears off about ya disappearance, yuh cyan tell me where yuh grow ya sinsimilla. We run out an’ me need it! De people who ah live up near Levi charge plenty, plenty money.
Goodnight
.”
Joseph shook his head in admiration and laughed, sure in his mind that everything was going to be just fine.
After listening to Joseph’s full tale, Amy insisted to her husband that he must repeat it to the whole family. So a week after his return, Joseph let it be known that he would tell his tale in a ‘storytime’ session around Grandpapa Neville’s fire.
So eager and fascinated was Mr DaCosta by the prospect of hearing Joseph’s story, he sold one of his prize goats to Amy at half price for the occasion. Neville had to entertain fellow Claremont elders who knocked upon his door at all hours. They all wanted to attend his ‘story-time’ session, despite the warning he had given out that it was strictly for family. Even those who had hated Joseph for years found that their curiosity was provoked and wanted to attend. The least they wanted to do was to pour scorn on Joseph’s storytelling skills. After constant irritation and Neville concluding that it was about time Joseph confronted his accusers, he yielded and gave them permission to attend but warned them of interruptions.
Jenny, who had spent the entire week at home, worked the market stall with her chin held high, the return of her father giving her a huge boost. A spring was in her step and the men who frequented the bars had noticed in Jenny a blossoming sexuality. She walked by them and offered them sideway grins. A man would rise and say, “come here sister! Mek me buy yuh ah drink so me an’ yuh could talk an reason an’ mebbe forward ah bush to get to know one anoder.”
Grinning mischievously, Jenny would reply, “yuh t’ink yuh coulda satisfy me? Me don’t deal wid nuh t’irty second mon an’ besides, while yuh ah sit down drink ya beer an’ look ’pon me pretty self, Joe Grine is grining ya wife! Me
not
available. Me married now to Jacob so look an’
don’t
touch.” She would flash her wedding ring and thought not even Hortense could cuss like her.
Jenny dismissed those Claremontonians who doubted that her father would ever return and she enjoyed doing so. Hortense, who was residing at Mr DaCosta’s, only came down on just the one evening to introduce her husband to her father; a nervous Cilbert was careful to be perfectly polite as his hat trembled in his hands. On their departure, Hortense confided to Cilbert, “dis story-time t’ing
nah
necessary. Me don’t waan people to know we business.”
As an appetiser to the main event, Amy’s mother, Melody, told Anancy tales to the children while the men fuelled themselves with rum, curried goat, fried grunt fish, bammys and rice. All eyes were upon Joseph who was quietly stoking the bonfire. Whispered conversations and sceptical eyes made Joseph wonder if this was indeed a good idea. He glanced at Amy for reassurance. Amy nodded.
Up to a hundred and fifty adults were ringed around the fire and a few gained a vantage point in the surrounding tree branches. Even a couple of market vendors had caught news of the event but they were soon sent packing by Neville. Hortense was laying down with her head in Cilbert’s lap, her eyes displaying apathy. Jenny was sitting beside Jacob, gazing proudly at her father’s every move. Isaac, parking his donkey at a tree, surprised all by his presence, for the more conservative of his Claremont parishioners thought that
story-time sessions were bordering on paganism. The fire danced in the Jamaican night, illuminating everyone’s captivated brows.
“Everybody quiet!” shouted a gruff-voiced Neville, holding out his arms. “Story time dis ah story time! An’ tonight, fe ya consumption, Joseph will reveal himself to we.
Nuh
lie mus’ come outta him mout’! Mek him swear ’pon de Bible.”
Neville placed his old Bible upon the ground in front of Joseph. Joseph paused for a moment before placing his left hand on the book and closing his eyes. “Me swear nuh lie will come outta me mout’.”
“Alright, sa. Let ya story begin!”
Joseph cleared his throat, scanned the eager faces all around him and closed his eyes momentarily. “Some ah yuh t’ink me mad,” he began. “Mebbe rightly so. Becah madness ah shadow me life. But me waan to explain meself. So me waan to start wid de beginning. De Alpha as Neville call it. An’ dis Alpha start nearly two hundred year ago. Born ah free mon in 1765 in Accompong Town, near to Cockpit country where de bones of de very earth rip t’rough de dry ground, was me ancestor, Kofi. He was named inna de Akan tradition of ah chile born ’pon ah Friday. Pure Coromanty blood ah flow t’rough him veins. An’ Africa is de land of we forefaders. Some call his people Maroon but dat was de name de Spanish give we. Kofi’s story was told to me by me mudder an’ her mudder before her.”