“Him was supposed to meet me at de bus stop, but him never show, so ’Enry learn fe live on him own at fourteen. Not one day go by dat me nuh t’ink a me modda an’ what me fadda put her t’rough. You shouldn’t feel no way ’bout what happen between you an’ ’Enry. You got to live your life for you.”
In the limited light, the river seemed to flow like a dark, liquid silk.
“But it’s not as simple as that anymore, Henry. Things have changed.” I was prepared to leave things as they were, but my head began to pound and my chest to swell. I felt as if what I was keeping from Henry would tear me apart. “Truth is, I’m going to have a baby,” I said. I waited patiently for Henry’s response, but none came. He just put the bottle he had been drinking from down and opened the other one.
“Henry, I said I’m going to have a baby.” And then I waited. I waited for what seemed like forever for him to stop looking straight out into the darkness and for him to react in some way.
Finally, he half whispered something. “’Enry is happy fe you … fe you an’ you husband.”
“You’re not even curious?” I asked. Henry shrugged his shoulders.
“Curious ’bout what?”
“About the baby. About me. About you and …”
’Enry have a frien’ name Oscar,” he interrupted. “Oscar do some handy work ’round rich people house. Him was working fe dis couple, an, well, him become friendly wit’ de lady a de house, too. She an’ her husband had been trying fe have baby fe a long time, but not’ing. Well, de woman have de baby, an’ de husband so proud fe be a fadda, him give big party. Everybody happy, no questions asked. Oscar go on about him business.”
I didn’t look at Henry. He didn’t look at me. We both kept our eyes fixed on the river. I didn’t really have any expectations as far as how he would respond, but I suppose in the very least, I thought there would be more of a curiosity, maybe a few questions. I expected some kind of emotion.
We drove back to Reach in silence, and I had a vision of myself six months along. My pregnancy would be obvious then and Henry wouldn’t be able to ignore it. How would he react then?
The following week, the pregnancy was announced in the newspapers. Henry didn’t show up for work, but I didn’t give it much thought. When he didn’t show up the following week either, I knew in my gut that something wasn’t right, and yet, I wasn’t completely surprised. At this point, I don’t think I was really capable of being surprised anymore. He missed another day, then another, and before long, three weeks had passed without him.
“Mrs. Moore, has there been any change in the staff?” I asked one morning.
“Ma’am?”
“Has anyone quit … left their positions here.”
“Well, the staff is a small one, ma’am. What you see here is what there is.”
I could only wonder if everyone associated with Lewis had taken a “how to be as evasive as possible” lesson from him.
“Well, the yard hasn’t been worked on in a while.”
“Yes, well the gardener will be back by week’s end, ma’am.”
I thanked Mrs. Moore and walked off, careful to hide my relief. By Friday of that week, I was once again hearing the clipping sound I had become so familiar with. At first I couldn’t see where it was coming from, but it caused me to breathe a sigh of relief. I walked down the stairs and out the front door, but the moment I got outside, I realized it wasn’t Henry doing the gardening.
“Good morning,” Mr. Harris said as he tipped his cap.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, too stunned to temper my question any.
“Workin’, ma’am.”
I just stood there staring at the old man.
“I thought you weren’t coming back. Your arthritis …” I stammered.
“Is all fine now. Been fine fe a good while now. It flare up now an’ den, but not’ing to keep me bed-ridden.”
“But you haven’t been here in so long.”
“Wasn’t on account a me art’ritis. De bwoy was doing so well here. It was his first real gardening work he do all by himself. Me nevah want tek dat from him. But as de lawd always blesses, a job open up fe me almost immediately. So, me have work, an’ me nevah have fe trouble ’Enry.”
“So, where’s Henry now?”
“Oh, de young bwoy get a job at some big estate in Spanish Town dat keep him busy most everyday.”
“Spanish Town? That’s so far.”
“He is a good gardener. He have a good future before him. I wouldn’t worry meself about de bwoy any,” Mr. Harris said.
But I was worried. If Henry had known he wouldn’t be back to Reach, I couldn’t imagine him leaving without at least saying good-bye.
“Mr. Harris, have you seen Henry?”
“T’ree days gone by. I see de bwoy den.”
“And he looks all right?”
“Looks like de Henry I always know. Big smile. Transistor radio on him hip. Tell me fe tell everybody up here ‘hello.’ ”
“Well, what about the job you had before, Mr. Harris?”
“Strangest t’ing. As luck would have it, dat one end couple of weeks ago. De people decide fe go annodah way wit’ dem yard work. Just God’s good timing.”
I thanked Mr. Harris and took a walk along the grounds. It was good timing, but I wasn’t so sure that God had anything to do with it. My aunt used to say that if it was too much coincidence, somebody went to a lot of trouble making it that way.
-32-
19 Skyline Close
St. Andrew
May 1, 1980
Dear Souci
I miss you so very much. I miss your letters. I don’t mean to sound like an old wife. I just so used to look forward to getting a word or two about your fancy life up in Kingston. I know you busy. And now with a baby on the way. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe you never write to tell me such big news. But I’m so happy things come to work out with your Mr. Big shot husband. I know that now your happy you didn’t turn your back on Kingston.
Remember how when we were young we would dream of being in the big city and living it up big. God smile down on you and made that happen for you. You are beautiful. You are smart. You are kind. And you are good. I always knew you were special so I was never surprised when you get chosen by Mr. Montrose. And to know you are living it up for the both of us. I am so tired here sometimes. All the work. And the kids.
Red have another child. A son he have with some flanky fuzzy girl from nearby. The girl crazy and so the little boy living with us now. His name is Patrick. I take care of him too. And sometimes I hear Red been messing around with another. But what am I to do. When I talk and when he get mad I don’t see him again for days. And my heart can’t take it. Sometimes I wish he never step foot in Jimmy’s market that day. I wish I never get on that bike and drive off with him. I wish I never let him touch me that way. Now I backed myself in a corner and I don’t know how to get out. So you keep living and loving life. For the two of us. And you keep living life for you.
Always much love
Michele
* * *
I wanted to tell Michele that my life wasn’t as wonderful as it seemed. I just wanted to be thirteen again and back in Stepney with her, laying on the warm grass, looking up at the clouds and dreaming of our magical future.
After I found out Lewis had been reading my letters, even though I still wrote Michele, I would edit myself. I didn’t dare write anything that was too intimate. Even with Henry, who I trusted, mailing my letters for me, I couldn’t help feeling that no matter what precautions I took, Lewis would always be one step ahead of me. Once Henry left, I felt more alone than ever. I felt less trusting than ever, and as time passed, I didn’t feel as guilty as I should have, not writing anymore.
I had never fallen in love with Henry, but I really did like him, though sometimes I wonder whether it wasn’t for selfish reasons. Maybe I only liked him because he gave me the attention I didn’t get from Lewis. Maybe I
only liked him because he provided me with a level of freedom from Reach.
Now that my pregnancy was made public, I couldn’t stop wondering what went through Henry’s mind each time he saw mention of it in the newspaper or on the evening news. Did he consider for a moment that my child could be his? Would he want to be involved in some way, or was the situation too complicated for him to even allow himself such a thought? Eventually, I didn’t think of Henry as much. I began thinking about myself and only myself. I had spent so long living my life through the eyes of others. First there was Michele. I used to spend my days in Stepney dreaming of a life in Kingston—a life in which my greatest claim to fame would be as the best friend of the first Ms. Jamaica from Stepney.
When Michele’s life changed with the birth of her children, I allowed it to affect my dreams. Michele would be grounded in Stepney, therefore, so would I. Then I lived for my aunt, even doing some higgling of the goods she farmed, just because she thought that was the best work for a country girl. I hated higgling, but I did it for a period of time because that made my aunt happy. If Dr. Bennedict hadn’t talked to her and to me about how much more stable working at the clinic was, I would have never sought out such a job. The most recent period of my life had been lived for Lewis Montrose. My presence had helped him reach his ultimate goal, but when I thought about it, what was I really getting out of the deal?
I had met rich, famous people, but none of them were really my true friends. None were my family. I had beautiful clothes, but no longer felt beautiful in them. I had a handsome, powerful husband. And even when he made it clear that he was living his own separate personal life that didn’t include me, I waited, thinking that in time, he would come around. He didn’t. Even my relationship with Henry was within the confines of what Lewis Montrose had set for my life. Henry didn’t fit into the picture any more, so Lewis made Henry disappear. I made up my mind then. For the first time in my life, I was going to live for myself.
These were the thoughts going through my mind as I dressed to receive Agnes Gooding. I had not been expecting her. Why would I? But a bit earlier that morning, Mrs. Moore had informed me of a phone call from Agnes. My first thought was that Mrs. Moore had been mistaking; that Agnes had actually called for Lewis. There was absolutely no reason that I could think of for Agnes to be contacting me.
Agnes must have jumped into her car the moment she hung up from me, because she was seated on the back verandah waiting for me by the time I got downstairs, and she had called not even twenty minutes before.
“Good morning,” she said as I walked toward her. I saw her eyes shift to my stomach, which had expanded to accommodate a seven-month old child. She looked away quickly. “Thank you for agreeing to see me,” she added.
As I sat across from her at the patio table, she smiled feebly. I could tell she was making an effort to focus on my face, and only my face, but her eyes kept drifting back down to my stomach.
“I had Mrs. Moore make some tea for us,” she said as she picked up a wedge of lemon and squeezed it into her teacup. I thought I saw her hand trembling.
“So, I think I should say congratulations,” she said. She looked at my belly once more, but this time, she didn’t try to disguise it. When her eyes locked on to mine, she gave me a look that made me wonder how much she knew about the situation surrounding my pregnancy.
“I always wanted a child … but …” Agnes’ voice trailed off. I just looked at her. I watched as she absently poked at that wedge of lemon with her spoon.
“Well, it is a beautiful day,” she said. “I always used to just sit here and watch the wind zip through the tree leaves. It’s such a peaceful scene.”
I put a couple teaspoons of sugar into my cup and stirred slowly. I felt less anxious when I was involved in some kind of activity, no matter how small. I had no idea why Agnes was sharing tea with me. I was almost expecting her to tell me that Lewis had recently proposed to her, that she had accepted, and my baby was greatly compromising their situation.
“I guess I always knew Lewis would go into politics,” she began. “I mean, not just because of his family. There was something about him. Even when everyone thought he would become a poet or someone in the arts. It was William they thought would become the big politician. But I knew. He must have been eleven, and Helen and I were having argument over a piece of candy. I guess when we divided the sweetie up, one piece was considerably bigger than the other. Helen immediately went for the bigger piece. Of course, I thought that I should have gotten that piece, so there was much commotion over that. Lewis happened to be sitting in the yard reading, so we asked him to settle things. And do you know what he did? He asked who bought the candy. I did. And I’ll never forget his words. He said, ‘Well, this is very easy to settle. If Agnes bought it, then it’s Agnes’ property. And since it’s Agnes’ property, she has the right to decide who gets what piece.’ His exact words. Eleven years old. I think that’s when I knew. He’s so passionate about whatever he involves himself in, about the things he really believes in. But that passion makes him so brash, and at times, so pig-headed.” Agnes reached for her purse and pulled out a section of a newspaper. She put it down in front of me, then stood and walked to the edge of the verandah.
“Souci, look at that newspaper article. Look at the section I’ve starred. Will you read it?”
I wasn’t so sure I wanted to know its contents, but I began reading nonetheless.
“Almost all utility companies on the island are now government-owned, as are hospitals, and several other large companies, including the major cement producer on the island and one of the leading bauxite producers. I predict that there will not be another election so long as Lewis Montrose is in office. The twenty-one member senate, thirteen of whom are appointed by Mr. Montrose, will do nothing to prevent this, and the house will be disbanded. The Gleaner, the island’s major newspaper, is run by Bob Lindsey, a supporter of the current administration, and the government-owned Jamaica Broadcasting Corporation does not publish or broadcast unbiased reports. When I was forced to leave the island three weeks ago, it was already near impossible to get a foreign newspaper there. I think Jamaica is currently a socialist state, and so long as the people stand by and do nothing about it, and do nothing to get Lewis Montrose out of office, the island is on its way to becoming a communist state.”
“That quote came from Lewis’ good friend David Benson,” Agnes said. “I read it in The New York Times while I was off the island.
I pushed the paper toward Agnes’ side of the table. When I looked at her, I saw so much worry in her eyes. Agnes walked back over to the table and reclaimed her seat.
“Lewis truly believed this was the way to go, but things aren’t developing as he had planned. Everyday there is another report of gunshots somewhere in the city. Everyday, another one of my friends or business associates seem to leave the island. And the people who are still here, they are so on edge. I don’t like the smell in the air. I just feel deep down that something is going to have to give. Truth is, I’m afraid. Not for Lewis’ reputation or for his place in the history books. I’m afraid for his safety. Souci, I don’t like you much, and I’m sure the feeling is mutual. And I don’t know how much input you have with Lewis, or if you have any at all. I mean, the man is bull-headed and does what he feels. But if there’s any chance you might be able to say something that might sway him, please do. Please talk to him and tell him to be careful. Tell him to pull back. Because I see and I hear things, and they’re not good. And when I tell him this, he says I’m just being overly dramatic. I’m not. I just don’t like having to fear for him.”
“You’re his oldest friend, Agnes. He’s closer to you than he is to probably anyone else. If anyone could make a difference to him, it would be you.”
“Yes, but you are the one having his …” her voice trailed off. That’s when I realized that Agnes didn’t know the truth of my pregnancy. I saw it in her eyes. She couldn’t say the word “child” because
the thought of me, and not her, having Lewis’ baby, hurt her too much. I also saw the overwhelming love she had for him. Despite the number of years she had known him, and the many episodes she had nursed him through, Agnes could still not get to Lewis’ core. Agnes wasn’t as close to Lewis as she wanted to be, and that wounded her deeply.
“A man reacts differently at the thought of an environment in which his … his … offspring will not be safe,” she said. “I’ve spoken to James. He feels he no longer has any leverage over Lewis. Souci, you’re my last resort.”
I allowed Agnes to hold onto whatever small bit of hope she had about me getting through to Lewis. Though I had no intention of doing any such thing, I told her I would talk to him. But Agnes’ visit really scared me. If there was anyone who would know the real Lewis Montrose, who would know the limits of his behavior, I figured it would have been her. But she was afraid for him, perhaps of him. Maybe I should have been happy to discover all of this, to discover that I wasn’t being paranoid all along, but realizing that Agnes didn’t have the understanding with Lewis I thought she had only made me more ill at ease.
Two days after Agnes’ visit, I fell into a deep sleep, and throughout, I dreamt of heavy winds pummeling the shores. I dreamt of the giant waves of the sea being swept up onto the land, swallowing fishing villages and fishermen. I dreamt of women running out into the torrent, praying and begging to the almighty for the safe return of their husbands, and of small children tugging at their mothers’ hem.
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