Island Songs (34 page)

Jacob poured himself another drink. He was now walking on unsteady legs. His lips were smirking but his eyes betrayed devastation. “Jus’ de one question me waan to ask yuh, me
sweetheart
. Why did yuh marry me?”

Jenny couldn’t answer.

“An’ yuh cyan’t even come up wid an excuse fe dat! Lord me God! Wha’ kinda Jezebel me get meself involved wid? Almyna might be many t’ings, but at least she honest. Her love fe Cilbert was plain an’ clear. But
yuh
! Deceitful, manipulative, plotting! Yuh really are like Anancy. Me shoulda pay more attention to ya Gran’mama Melody when she tell me ya like Anancy.”

Burying her head into the mattress, Jenny sobbed, “yuh right.
But me beg yuh not to tell Hortense. Cilbert dead now.”

“Yuh t’ink me bad-minded like yuh?” Jacob replied. “Hortense has lost David already an’ now Cilbert. Yuh t’ink me waan to add to her grief?”

“T’ank yuh fe dat, Jacob,” Jenny managed.

“Me
not
doing dis fe yuh! Fe Hortense’s sake. De crazy t’ing is all she ’ave left in dis world to love is Lincoln an’ yuh! Fate’s cruelty mocks we sometimes.”

“Me tried to fight dis t’ing me had fe Cilbert. Jacob, yuh mus’ believe dat.”

“Yuh asking me to believe anyt’ing yuh say? Me really don’t know where we go from here. If we divorce den as ah so called preacher mon, me would lose ah certain respect even though me have plenty reason to do jus’ dat. An’ my papa would tell me ‘I told yuh so’. But how cyan I live wid ah woman who nuh love me?”

Jacob glared at Jenny, expecting some kind of reply, his heart wanting to hear that at least she had some feelings for him. Jenny couldn’t meet her husband’s eyes, afraid of his expression. An expression that bore the mark of the unloved.

Filling his glass again, Jacob tottered to his side of the bed and sat down, peering out the window. Tears were falling down his cheeks. Jenny closed her eyes and imagined she was in her father’s embrace.

Seven days following the funeral, Jenny found Hortense in Mary’s back garden trying to get Lincoln to sleep. She was humming a spiritual that she had learned from her grandfather, enjoying the warm touch of the spring sun that shone upon her face.

“Hortense,” Jenny called softly. “Ya sure yuh don’t waan to come to Jamaica wid me? Papa would love to see yuh. Mama too. Me could still get yuh ah ticket ’pon de same flight. Mebbe if yuh tek Lincoln yuh cyan introduce him to Cilbert family?”

“Cilbert family?” Hortense mocked, hardening her eyebrows. “Dey never did waan me to marry him so why should me mek dem see Lincoln? An’ der is not’ing inna Jamaica fe me. Cilbert is buried
here
, an’ me don’t waan to leave him jus’ yet. Him soul might t’ink me abandon him. Nuh, sa! Jenny, yuh gwarn to Jamaica an’ stop
worry about me. Lincoln an’ meself will be alright. Say hello to Levi an’ Carmesha fe me when yuh reach.”

Hortense returned to her humming as Jenny placed a comforting hand upon Hortense’s left shoulder. “Me will, Hortense. But it grieves me to leave yuh like dis. Yuh ah big woman now Hortense an’ yuh don’t need ya big sister so much.”

“Wha’ do yuh mean by dat,” queried Hortense.

“When me reach Jamaica me ’ave some t’inking to do of me own but don’t worry about dat,” answered Jenny. “Fate might lead we to different paths but me will always love yuh dearly. Me swear to dat.”

Clutching Jenny’s hand, Hortense managed a smile. “Jenny,” she called.

“Wha’ is it, Hortense.”

“Do yuh t’ink dat we are cursed?”

“Wha’ do yuh mean?”

“Yuh remember Papa’s story about Kofi an’ everybody.”

“Yes.”

“Well, Papa went back to him hometown an’ affe bury him mama. David gone America an’ when him come back deat’ claim him. Now Cilby dead.”

Jenny thought about it. “Nuh, Hortense. It’s jus’ coincidence an’ bad fortune. Don’t worry yaself about it.”

Hortense’s grip on Jenny’s hand tightened. “Be careful, Jenny. Me don’t waan to lose yuh. Me don’t t’ink me could tek dat.”

“Me will be alright. Mebbe nex’ time yuh cyan come wid me an’ bring Lincoln?”

“Nuh, Jenny. Me cyan’t do dat! Me don’t waan nuh curse inna Jamaica to trouble him. Yuh keep yaself safe.”

Smiling and masking her own fears, Jenny kissed Hortense upon the forehead and released her grip. Hortense resumed her humming.

“Wha’ song is dat, Hortense?”

“Yuh don’t remember, Jenny? It’s somet’ing Gran’papa Neville teach me to sing whenever me sad. Me used to sing it under our tree after David dead.”

Jenny tried to recall the words but Hortense had already closed her eyes, concentrated her brow and began singing.

Tears were streaming down Jenny’s face as she hugged her sister again, kissing her upon the cheek. There they remained for the next hour, immersed in their shared history while listening to the infant sounds of Lincoln who fought to claim sleep.

Claremont, Jamaica
July 1963

Jenny had been received warmly by her extended family and old friends. The natural mystic of rural Jamaica added to the calming North Coast breezes, soothed away her melancholy and refreshed her dormant spirit. Sights and sounds that she had taken for granted in her childhood were now a pleasure to be experienced. Upon arrival at her childhood home she ran to the Blue Mahoe tree where she and Hortense shared untold sweet and unpleasant memories. She would hike up to her father’s plot and spend lazy afternoons listening to his childhood recollections beneath the palm groves. Joseph was now fit and well after receiving treatment at a Kingston hospital for his prostrate problem. Jenny found that her father was now at ease with himself, greeting everyone he met with a welcoming smile and once he began reciting old Maroon tales and legends, it was a mighty task to stop him.

The proud parents of three boys and living at Isaac’s house, Carmesha and Levi wanted to know everything about London. No vivid description would satisfy their hunger. Isaac himself suffered a pride overload as Jenny informed him of Jacob’s establishment of a church in Brixton. Jenny found that her father-in-law had allowed humour to enter his life and he enjoyed the company of his three grandsons. Grandpapa Neville, bedridden and bent with age, feasted his eyes upon photographs of Lincoln and couldn’t thank Jenny enough for bringing the images to him. “Me ’ave made me sacrifices fe de bwai an’ me curse is finally over,” assured Neville. “He is de first of we family to be born inna foreign land an’ his seed will grow mighty becah him ’ave t’ree winds flowing t’rough him.
De winds of Africa, Jamaica an’ now Englan’. Yes, sa! Tribulation might buil’ many stumbling blocks fe de bwai but Lincoln will conquer dem all. Me jus’ know dat.”

Riding into Claremont market square upon a donkey, Jenny laughed at the wolf whistles and admiring glances aimed at her. She bantered with the men who frequented the bars and was not shy to shout her appreciation to the bare-backed men who toiled in the fields. Forgetting Jacob in London and her guilt evaporating, Jenny felt as free as a doctor bird, her heart no longer chained to one man, the spell of her obsession finally over. One night, Joseph remarked to Amy, “it’s like she come back wid ah new character? So good to see her smiling an’ flinging away dat mighty intensity.”

But Jenny was secretly observed from a distance by her concerned mother, Amy, who refused to believe that her daughter could be so blissful with Cilbert having passed away only nine weeks ago and Hortense still grief-stricken. Amy bided her time until one afternoon, when Jenny was idling under her favourite tree enjoying the taste of a mango and blessing her eyes upon the green, southern ranges that kissed the wispy clouds.

“Are yuh going back to ya husband?” Amy asked, her tone confrontational.

“Wha’ kind of question is dat, Mama?” Jenny replied.

“Well, me real question is, why yuh look so damn pleased wid yaself when de mon of ya dreams is dead inna Englan’ soil?”

Jenny paused from eating her fruit and regarded her mother as if she was a bad smell. “Mama, me know yuh don’t t’ink good of me but me don’t expect dem kinda nasty t’ings coming from ya mout’! Wicked yuh wicked! How could yuh ever believe dem kinda t’ing? See Massa God don’t strike yuh down! Ya old an’ cranky now an’ mebbe ya ’fraid dat Papa will tek up him foot an’ leave yuh once more. But
don’t
talk dem kinda ways to me! Yuh jus’ cyan’t tolerate dat Papa love me more dan yuh so yuh affe talk nastiness inna me ears. Yuh cyan’t tek it! Dog heart yuh ah dog heart!”

Smiling away her daughter’s insults, Amy replied, “Jenny, me is ya mama. Yuh cyan’t change dat. An’ me know yuh. Know yuh too
well. Yuh mus’ t’ink dat nuhbody ah watch yuh when Hortense bring Cilbert here fe de first time. Yuh mus’ ah t’ink dat nuhbody ah notice de way yuh look ’pon Cilbert at Hortense’s wedding. Jenny, mebbe yuh cyan fool Papa an’ Gran’papa, but yuh cyan’t fool me. Me raise yuh an’ come wise to ya ways.”

“Yuh come wise to not’ing, Mama! Yuh did never care about me an’ de foolishness yuh ah talk is jus’ to spite me. Why don’t yuh jus’ leave me be? Becah ya heart has always been cool like mountain stream. De only t’ing yuh ever love was David an’ since him dead, yuh turn into ah somebody wid nuh feeling, nuh spirit. Ah
rockstone
heart! Yuh nuh more dan ah
duppy
! Yuh forget long ago dat yuh ’ave two girl chile. So
yuh
cyan’t talk to me about not’ing!”

Injured by her daughter’s remarks, Amy decided to keep her tone measured. “Yes, yuh cyan accuse me of anyt’ing yuh waan. Some of it mebbe true an’ some of it untrue. But Jenny, yuh should nah lie to yaself. From de first moment dat me set me eyes ’pon Cilbert at me dinner table, me see de way yuh look ’pon him, sight de way yuh respond to him an’ me said to meself, ‘lord ’ave mercy, dis mon capture me two daughter heart.’ Yes, sa! Deny it if yuh waan to but yuh will
never
convince me. Yuh always did waan wha’ Hortense did ’ave fe her own, weder it was ah dress or even ah ripe mango. Sometimes me wonder if yuh woulda hunger after Cilbert if him never did marry Hortense. Me don’t tink so! De only t’ing dat is ah surprise is dat Hortense never ketch on. Lord ’ave mercy! If she ever find out…”

Raw emotion rising within her, Jenny protested, “it nah go so, Mama! It nah go so! Why yuh nah believe me?” She clenched her fist and drew it back.

Refusing to back away an inch, Amy retorted, “yes, dat is always ya way. When people touch ’pon de trut’, yuh resort to violence. De las’ resort of somebody who cyan’t face de trut’! So wha’ yuh gwarn to do? Lick down ya own cranky an’ old mudder?”

Relaxing her fist, Jenny dropped her sight to the ground. Amy detected the tears forming within her daughters eyes. “Melody was right about yuh,” Amy affirmed. “Jus’ like Anancy yuh is. Wily, manipulative an’ secretive, always putting ’pon ah false, plastic face.
Me tried to tell yuh before but yuh never did waan talk to me. Remember de time before yuh set sail to Englan’? Yuh knew dat me did ah know. Yes, sa. An’ now Cilbert dead an’ yuh dream shatter yuh come running home like de spoil girl yuh is.
Leaving
Hortense ’pon her own. Only caring about ya own grief. An’ yuh call me ah dog-heart!”

Grasping for the lapels upon Amy’s frock, Jenny could not stem her tears. Her expression was desperate. “We cyan’t choose de one we love, Mama. Me tried to fight it. Mama, me waan to stay here. Start afresh. Please, Mama? Let me work wid Papa ’pon we plot. Let me jus’ live ah simple life here so.”

“Wha’ about Jacob? Yuh marry him an’ yuh affe carry de responsibility of dat. He’s ah good mon. Yuh ’ave wha’ most women around here would chop off der baby toe for. Count ya blessings an’ love de one yuh wid! Dat is de way it ah go wid women from dese parts. We jus’ get on wid it, never complaining.”

“Mama,” Jenny croaked, her vision becoming blurred. “Me don’t love him. Me never did love him.”

“Dat don’t ’ave not’ing to do wid it!” Amy thundered. She regarded the now defeated expression of her daughter. “Yuh mek ya choice so yuh affe live wid it.”

“But me not jus’ ah wife, jus’ ah woman who wait fe ah mon to ask dem to marry. Nuh! Dis is where me belong, where me born an’ grow. Me waan to look after Papa when sickness ah ketch him an’ when his back start bend.”

“
Dat
is
my
duty to look after Joseph. Ya duty is to stan’ beside Jacob. An’ besides, how long yuh t’ink yuh coulda live apart from Hortense? Mebbe Hortense don’t feel dat she need ya presence now, an’ me guess dat is why yuh run back here. Mebbe yuh don’t realise it yet, but
she
is de love of ya life. Oh yes, sa! Mebbe yuh will see it when yuh near de end. When she moved out me know it tear yuh apart. Yuh could nah sleep at all. Even when she used to stay over at Gran’papa’s yuh kick up ah mighty fuss, causing all kinda contention wid me. Although Cilbert tickled ya fancy it was Hortense yuh follow when she move to Kingston. Yes, sa! It is ah fate t’ing dat yuh cyan do not’ing about. Yuh t’ink we don’t talk about dis? Me, ya papa
an’ Gran’papa Neville? It is Hortense yuh follow when she sail to Englan’. Everybody could see how tortured yuh were widout her. Even Gran’papa Neville say so. Yuh really t’ink yuh coulda live here an’ she live t’ousands an’ t’ousands of miles away? Nuh, sa! Jenny, me know yuh, me raise yuh an’ watch yuh. Ya place in dis world is to be close to Hortense. It has been so since David dead. Fulfil ya promise to David! Me place is to be close to Joseph an’ inna Claremont. Mebbe one day yuh cyan come back here when ya back is bent an’ when it’s ya time to res’. But
not
yet.”

Palming away her tears, Jenny realised her mother was right. She looked out to the fields behind Amy and in her inner vision saw Hortense and herself as children, riding the family donkey, laughing and joking as they went along. She could almost feel Hortense’s arms wrapped around her waist, she could sense Hortense’s breathing into her neck as her sister cuddled behind her at night. “Jenny, if bugaboo trouble me tonight, box de damn t’ing away from me an’ stamp ’pon it’s tail fe me,” Hortense would jest before falling asleep.

“Alright, Mama,” Jenny finally conceded, making no attempt to swab away her tears. “But if yuh ever say ah word about dis to
anyone
, me will never say ah godly word to yuh again!”

“Still defiant an’ feisty even when yuh lose de argument,” Amy laughed. “But yuh ’ave nuh cause fe worry. Me ’ave nuh intention of telling anyone. Besides, me ’ave Hortense to t’ink about. But me warn yuh, ya better look after her right an’ be nice to Jacob. Him love yuh so much an’ will do anyt’ing fe yuh. Count ya blessings, Jenny, becah fortune don’t shine so bright ’pon de masses. Me t’ought dat living inna Trenchtown woulda teach yuh dat.”

Struggling to hold on to her emotions, Jenny blurted out, “why yuh so cruel, Mama? Wha’ did me ’ave when Papa gone? Not’ing, Mama. Yuh never love me! Me go ah school an’ people cuss me. Me work ’pon de stall an’ people still ah cuss me. Cilbert did talk to me first! Me t’ought dat Hortense would nah like it if me find meself ah bwai-friend’. ME WAS T’INKING OF
HER
. Why yuh so cruel to me? It was
me
who look after Hortense when David dead.
Me
!”

Pounding her fists into the grass, Jenny began shaking her head and
wailing. With the reality of her mother’s words striking home, Jenny was on the verge of a breakdown. She collasped to the turf in utter turmoil, masking her face with her palms, unable to stem her screams.

Taking pity upon her daughter, Amy knelt down and stroked Jenny’s trembling hands. It deeply pained Amy to know that Hortense was obviously grief-stricken and to see Jenny in such a state. “We are all damaged an’ marked by events dat we ’ave nuh control over,” Amy said. “Me as much as anyone. Perhaps even more so. It nah nice dat me fader look ’pon me as ah girl chile an’ his eyes wished fe ah son. How did me resent dat! Me still do. Everybody marked by some grievance or some unjus’ t’ing dat ah happen to dem, including Carmesha, Levi an’ even ya papa. Yuh love ya papa so blind but yuh never stop an’ wonder why him ah give yuh so much attention. It’s becah yuh look like him mudder! Hortense love yuh blind too an’ she cyan’t see ya Anancy-like ways. We all ’ave to accept we weaknesses an’ carry on, learn to live wid cruel fate. Me never believe when ya fader say, ‘He’s ah cruel God’. Nuh, sa. He jus’ give we test. An’ everybody ’ave to pass t’rough His tests. Rich or poor. Me t’ought David’s deat’ would vanquish me, part of me died dat night when Isaac give we de bad news. An’ ya probably right, at dat time me was not ah fit mudder, ignoring me daughters dem. Now is de time of ya test, Jenny. But yuh will get t’rough it. Me know yuh will.”

Mother and daughter remained under the shade of the tree until the sun dipped below the western hills and when they returned home, linking arms, Amy felt she at last had regained her middle child.

Seven days later, Jenny was packing her suitcase. She had already bade a tearful farewell to her father and now she felt her mother’s concerned eyes watching her every move. A taxi driver impatiently palmed his horn outside. As Jenny zipped up her luggage, she turned around and saw Amy standing close to her with the old family Bible held in her hands. “Jenny, tek dis.”

“Mama, dat’s de Bible Gran’papa give yuh. Me cyan’t tek dat.”

“Jenny,
tek
it. It offer yuh comfort when yuh ah girl chile, an’ it
might offer yuh comfort now yuh fully grown. Tek it.”

Jenny knew she couldn’t refuse the gift and she received the book from her mother and carefully placed it into her hand luggage. Amy smiled, kissed her daughter upon the forehead and said, “Tell Hortense we’re all t’inking of her an’ send we love. Mek sure yuh give her de rum. An’ never forget it’s not only ya papa dat love yuh. May Massa God bless ya steps.”

Returning to London, Jenny accepted the hugs and kisses from Hortense as Jacob picked up her luggage without offering any welcome. Following a chicken, rice and peas dinner, Jenny played with Lincoln before climbing the stairs to her apartment where Jacob sat brooding in his chair beside the dressing table. Jenny noticed he still had the mark of the unloved within his eyes. She wondered what he would do to her but she said to herself, ‘
not’ing
will keep me away from me sister’.

Taking off her coat, Jenny found her Bible in her hand luggage, cautiously sat on the bed and began reading. Jacob watched her every movement. “As yuh couldn’t deny ya love fe Cilbert, me cyan’t deny me love fe yuh,” he said. “From me ah bwai chile me ’ave watched yuh an’ me ’ave never looked ’pon anybody else. It’s funny, while yuh was away Hortense was talking about curses. She seems to t’ink dat becah of wha’ Kofi did to de slavemaster’s family, ya family has been hexed, especially de males. It’s when she tell me about her paranoia dat I realised I have my own curse – loving yuh. Even t’ough wha’ has happened, I realised I cyan’t live widout yuh. Dat is my curse.”

Jenny suffered a pang of guilt as Jacob continued. “Me main ambition now is to set up de church good an’ proper. Find ah decent building an’ increase numbers of de congregation. Dat is me first priority. An’ as me do dat
yuh
will be by me side
every
step of de way. An’ by God
yuh
learn to love me. Yuh
will
yield to sex when I need it. Nuh more excuses. Yuh will smile when we out togeder. As far as anybody else is concerned, we ’ave ah happy, blissful marriage. Yuh might t’ink dis is cruel. But yuh ’ave revealed ya hand to me – I finally know ya weakness an’ yuh ’ave been exploiting my
weakness since me know yuh. An’ if yuh don’t comply I will tell Hortense everyt’ing. Do yuh agree wid everyt’ing I say?”