“Lulu, she was young den, only seventeen when she went down to live wit Michael, but she weren’t foolish. She was always a very serious girl. She didn’t go a lot of places or have too many friends. See, dat was always me wit all the friends and people around, because I have a spirit dat’s outgoing. But she was smart and surely going to be a teacher. Our mumma had it all planned like for her. She worked at Bobsled’s while she was doing preparation classes for college. Lawd, she was doing great till Errol came along. When Mumma found out, she was so raging mad, she like to dead Lulu. Mumma was always very strict, even I say stricter than you need to be wit chilren. Very hard on us. Anyway, she never forgive Michael for promoting Errol in his sister’s affections. And she swore Lulu up and down about it, but she was shutting de barn door after de asses done got out.”
Marva laughed at her own joke, and sighed. But when she spoke of Lou and Errol’s love for each other, she was contemplative and serious in a way that revealed years of consideration. Marva believed fervently in her sister’s romance but was ever mindful of its consequences.
“Sometimes I wonder on Lulu’s life if she hadn’t met dat man. But it doesn’t advantage to dwell on what didn’t. It’s did dat matters. Lulu was a good Christian. She was, though maybe some people don’t tink so. And yah know her love fi Errol really wreck her in de end. She nevah let go de guilt she feeling for Patrice and dat lickle girl. It mash her up, yah know, made her sick. But deir love was too powerful to be denied. She tried. She turn away from dat man plenty of times. It’s even why she went away to de States. But she couldn’t run away from dat love more dan from a speeding car.”
Lou and Errol began seeing each other in the winter of ’64, though quietly at first. Errol’s nascent interest in politics proved a good cover. The Caribbean Federation had by then collapsed, the British interest in their island colonies was rapidly waning, and St. Clair’s future looked increasingly up for grabs. The country was vulnerable in every way; Michael and his cohorts saw their moment. They set hard to work grooming Errol as the first candidate of the National Labor Party of St. Clair. Hungry for revolution, they were nevertheless smart enough to know that the European influence would not die easily. Errol and his creamy skin were a godsend. By the end of that year, the NLP had taken off. Errol’s face was on a poster in every bar and grocery across the island.
That’s when Lou got pregnant. Errol was still living with Patrice and Christine, still singing at Foxy’s, and the situation sent Lou into a tailspin. “She came to see me and Josephus, and her go cry like a damn hurricane. I feared for her life den, she so distressed.” For his part, Errol was paralyzed. He was deeply in love with Lou, had been from the first, but couldn’t deny his obligation to Patrice. And, as Michael was quick to point out, his political future relied on clean resolutions. St. Clairians, like most Caribbean people, were tolerant of unconventional families, but few people would set much confidence in a leader with such a distracting personal life.
“Me tell Lulu to hold on. Me tinking it would work out,” explained Marva, shaking her head at her own advice. “Errol, I expect he was wanting Patrice to pitch him out. Dat’s how men is. Dey never leave, but if dey wanting out of someting den dey fatigue you till you want to dead dem. Patrice, she was stubborn about him, she wouldn’t give him de satisfaction. So for a time he kept wit both women, and dey played a waiting game upset all tree of dem. Dat changed when Philip was born. Ooh! He looked jes’ like his papa. And yah know, it did the turn. Errol finally done it. He left Patrice, left Foxy’s. For a time him and Lulu were happy. Dey were. Real, real happy.”
Not surprisingly, Lou became Errol’s greatest asset. “Dat quiet girl, she did all de work,” Marva crowed as our bus made another in a series of rattling stops along the lush mountain road. The rest of the passengers had gone back to their business, and Marva and I were able to disappear into a world of our own. I was stitching the pieces of story together and every now and again felt besieged by a recollection or flash of insight I didn’t have time to explore. It was as though I were racing through time on a bullet train, monumental events melting down to smears of color.
A far better scholar than Errol, and with more conviction as well, Lou did much to create the Errol Hodge who won a seat in Parliament in 1968. The year before, Derek had been born, and the family left Michael’s apartment for a tiny place of their own. Between the limitless tasks of caring for her two boys, Lou dressed her man, gave counsel on party issues, and late most nights sat at the kitchen table writing position papers and speeches. Michael set the agenda; Lou gave it words, though she herself stayed in the shadows. Still pained by the conflict she felt she had caused, she avoided being seen by Errol’s side whenever possible. She also encouraged Errol to spend time with Patrice and their daughter. Theirs was a fragile, but working, arrangement, until well into Errol’s first and only term. Marva admired her sister’s generosity of spirit, but she would never be convinced of its wisdom. “Lulu should have smelled trouble coming when Patrice started being around.”
At the reminder of what St. Clair’s independence had brought to bear, Marva’s features tightened as though they were being twisted from within. “It was nineteen seventy-one. My husband, Josephus, jes’ became a deputy. Tings were dangerous around here. Chesley stayed in as governor, but from de very first day he bad as week-old fish. Tieving and such. Michael and him rude boys were getting angry, began making a head of trouble. Pretty soon dey were tinking about righteous fighting, like Panthers, like Rastas. Violence was boiling up all over de West Indies, yah know, just like de States. Errol was set fi making peaceful change, but not Michael. Him go leaning on Errol for dis law and dat policy, wanting him to push Chesley around, but Errol wouldn’t do it. He’s a gentle man, Errol. It was maybe de only time when his weakness kind of served his favor.
“Dem two really fell out den. Oh, it was a murderation. Michael get real ignorant wit Errol, calling him whitey and a pig and such. Awful. Michael and his boys stirred a ton of trouble. Me always knowed my brother would gwan mash up someting wit his angriness. Anyway, dere was a bombing in Eldertown, April nineteen seventy-two. A man in a bank was killed. Dey nevah knew for sure who did it, but one of dem boys telled Errol it was Michael, and pretty soon Michael left fi good. Went to England and nevah came back. And dat’s, you know, what probably killed our mumma in de end. She didn’t really live too much longer than that.”
It appeared that the commotion of her mother’s memory would silence Marva, and I wished for her sake that she’d change the subject. But instead, she barreled ahead, gaining some sort of strength around her already vibrating self by carrying on with the tale.
“Well, me won’t lie to you. Tings weren’t gwan too terrific after dat. Errol for sure lost his seat, connected as he was wit Michael. And he took a good deal of dat burden, of de killing, on himself. Errol did. Put dat wit de other tribulations, wit Lulu and Patrice both wanting him, and he turn to drinking pretty quick. For my sista it just seem to her like a proper punishment from de Lawd. She climb up in herself even more dan before, and all de light around her faded.
“Errol tried his hand at a few jobs after dat, but nobody was really wanting him for anyting good. Hotels were coming up here and dere, and he tried singing again, but he showed up late, or drunk, a couple times, and dat was dat. For a lickle bit he was driving a taxi, but he got in a accident one night coming back from somewhere and him go lose his hack license. Lulu took back up working at de cinema, but it was too anguishing bringing de boys along, having dem fall asleep in a chair or on de office floor. Me like to say it was Errol’s fault, but yah know it takes two. Trouble is, Lulu tried to make dat man into someting he weren’t. He weren’t a sticking man, and she should have seen dat. We all should have seen it. Cyaant make a four-penny nail six.
“Before long, Errol was liming down at Foxy’s again. He go down to call on Patrice and de lickle girl but end up staying. Lulu didn’t see how she could complain too much about it.
Before long seems like she was losing dat man to his old life. It pained her horribly, but she had de boys to feed. Finally she decided to leave. Her have a friend June, was caring for some chilren in de States — well, you knowed dem — and she tell her to come up fast for maybe she can get Lulu a job. De night she went and telled Errol, she had to search all over before she found him. He was in a back booth at Foxy’s. Wit Patrice and his old movie friends. I learned dat much later, from our old friend Fry.
“Errol, he didn’t fight her on it, which maybe hurt her most of all. He nevah was a bad man, just weak. Me tinking he felt like he was hurting people every step he made, so he jes’ gived up. And Lulu maybe hoped if she left, Errol would miss her so much he’d call her home. But dat isn’t how it went.
“De boys went to stay wit Mumma, though she hadn’t barely spoken to Lulu since she took up wit Errol. Me and Josephus were saving up for a car, but we gave de money to Lulu for plane fare. And her and me went shopping for some new dresses, a winter coat. I remember dat coat, brown wit a lickle fur round de collar. Lulu wouldn’t pick it out. Jes’ kept shrugging her shoulders till I had to grab her and tell her to look at it as a opportunity, yah know. Seeing de world. Poor Lulu. Seems like she was just dying on de inside.
“De night before she left, we all up at Mumma’s getting de boys settled in, and me find her out back, looking out at de ocean. She holding dis lickle bitty shirt of Derek’s in her hand and she smelling it, and crying. When me went to her, she wouldn’t speak, but she didn’t need to. All her sorrows was out dere plain to see. Her looking at me like ghosts dancing in her eyes. Like she saying nothing was evah gwan be de same. I knowed her well enough to understand she was saying dat. And she was right. Noting was very good for her pass dat.
“At de airport, Papa saluted her like a sailor, but he wouldn’t hug her. Mumma neither. Dey disapprove of her very much. Derek, den jus’ a bitty ting, he held on to her knees, just crying and crying. Pitiful. So sad. Fi he was really still a baby. Philip tried to act de big boy, but you could see how it was ripping him up too. As fi Errol, it looked for a time like he wouldn’t even show up. Finally he walk in de terminal, pissing drunk like me nevah seen him. Him couldn’t look at her he so ashamed. It was Lulu had to tell him it was gwan be arright. She have to tell him. Lawd. What a day dat was.”
Marva, who had been so deep in her story I wasn’t even sure she knew who she was talking to, turned to me suddenly and patted my knee. “Dat’s when she came to you,” Marva said with forced brightness, half hoping with her weak smile to soften the truth she was revealing. She pulled a handkerchief out of her purse and offered me a fruit candy. In the look we exchanged at that moment, however, there was, I thought, a decision that we were too far in for niceties. Our bus was making the last of its switchbacks down onto the island’s outer road as Marva related the events after Lou’s departure.
“De boys cause a stir wit Mumma, getting on de ropes wit her till finally Philip went down fi live wit Errol. He had taken back up wit Patrice den full-time, Foxy gave him his job back, and Patrice say she could care for Philip but not de two. I knowed Derek took dat hard. Seems he thought Patrice chose Philip because he had de good skin like Errol and she. I suspect he was right about dat, though me knowing Errol nevah felt dat way. Errol did miss Lulu terribly. He wrote and he called her up dere, saying he still loved her and he was sorry. But me tink he couldn’t figure how to fix tings, so he let dem slide. My mumma was getting sicker, wit diabetes, and she having a hard time wit Derek. He was into a lot of mischief, just like Michael once was. Finally all de pain of it was too much for Lulu. In seventy-seven, she came home. Couldn’t stay away from her babies any longer.
“De boys went deir separate ways den. Philip was doing real good down at de Eldertown school and he didn’t want to come home. Lulu could see he had all de advantages, so she let him stay, even though it hurt her. And Derek, he punished my sista hard for leaving him. Dat made Lulu sick in de end. I know she felt a lot of guilt for so much, and it all came and put dat infection in near her heart. Left her open for cancer, and den went and made her crazy. Poor Derek’s been angry wit his papa and mumma so long, now he’s just angry wit himself.
“Errol been trying to win Lulu back all dese years. It’s funny about love, because I really believe dat man loved her to his core, but he couldn’t do de hard ting. He chose de easy one wit Patrice. Living was just easier for him down dere. But he wrote and call my sista all de time, sent her lickle tings, flowers. Lulu didn’t study him, though, she couldn’t. She cut him dead, for it was de best way to get along. Patrice died a few years back, and we all thought maybe she would take him back, but it didn’t happen.
“But den, out of nowhere, last week, she ask me about de ring I showed yah. About getting a chain. Next night, we sitting out after dinner and Lulu looks at Derek. She say, ‘Let’s take a ride, Errol.’ Just like dat! She was in a lot of confusion in her head dese past years, tinking one person for another, but I nevah heard her speak dat man’s name. She say, ‘Let’s take a ride, Errol. I love de sea.’ Me went and phone Errol and said it was time. His time had come. Him and her talked. She sounded just like a schoolgirl again. It’s why poor Philip bring dat boat up here, yah know. Errol asked him to put it inna water fi him and Lulu to take a ride together. Since his mumma pass, Philip been tryin’ to ease Errol’s pain. Figured jes’ to go along for the time being, pretend a lickle like it didn’t happen.
“Oh, it rips me up, Addy! Even when Lulu was crazy, I gots to believe Lulu knew dat love is hardship. People are nevah perfect. Love is a mortal pain, but yah gots to love. Yah gots to love or yah aren’t wort yah flesh on de open market. She was going to love him again because she always loved him. If she only hadn’t gone off in her craziness dat night. I still cyaant believe it.”
Marva turned her face away from me, toward the window. Along the windy coastal road on which we traveled, the pastiche of prickly grass and moraine began slowly to give way to shantytowns and homemade road signs. We were hurtling suddenly, much too quickly, toward the hustle and life of our destination. Now, as the bus made another of its wheezing halts and the ladies shifted places, calling good-byes, Marva quit her narrative and began smoothing her balled-up handkerchief across her lap. Thermuda hovered again, zeppelinlike.
“Is dere anyting we cyan do for yah, Marva, before tomorrow?”
“No, but tanks. And God bless.”
“You going to see him, den?”
“Who?”
“Errol.”
Marva cocked her head at Thermuda thoughtfully and smiled.
“No. Doesn’t look like I am, Termuda. It’s de boys’ business and me not interfering no more.”
“OK. Well. Annie and me be seeing you tonight.”
Thermuda pushed her way out the back door and, pulling out a ring of keys from the voluminous folds of her waist, made her way across the road to a whitewashed concrete rotunda. MRS. HOT DOG, read the sign, and below in a red script, Only Jesus Saves. Have a Godly Day.
“Damn busybody,” said Marva, recovering her old fire. “Her daughta been following Errol around since de day Lulu first bringed him home. Worked his campaign just to be near him all de time. She ain’t nevah married, and all her teeth are gone; she so ugly now. Tss.”
I leaned back and watched out the window as Thermuda’s hut vanished. The bus tipped dangerously around a rotary, and moments later we were in Eldertown proper. The hollow feeling I’d had that morning returned, billowed like a curtain on a windy day. The bus came to another halt. Marva stood up and, numb, I followed her out into the high sun, realizing at once that I’d left my hat on the rusty rack under which we’d sat. But when I turned around, the doors had closed and the bus was shuffling away.
19
DEAr MUMMA. I AM FInE. THAnK YOU FOr THE gUITAr I WAnTEd ALOTT. THIngS IS HArd HErE.
I lie on Lou’s bed and peek beneath her arm with one open eye. The nubbly spread is damp against my cheek, the air still t
hick and wet with the bulky heat of the day. Lou’s room is the warmest in the house, and though the sky is end-of-the-day pink, the fan turning its lazy head offers no relief. It only moves hot air and flutters the paper in Lou’s hand. Under the sloping eave sits June, knitting tiny cream-colored booties. She listens and nods as Lou reads from the letter.
I AM PLAnnIng To BE VEry gOOd So yOU COULD PLEASE COME HOME nOW. I WILL dO no QUArILIng Or CryIng AnD SUCH.
Lou halts and a couple of tears make their way down her nose, dropping on the letter before she can wipe them away.
Cat.
There he is. Cat, away for so long. He enters the room, makes a dead run for the corner. I close my eyes tight, but when I open them he is still there. Taking his yellow-eyed fill of me.
Today. Todaytodaytoday. Today is the Fourth of July. Oh say can you see, sang the lady on the podium, after the parade. I sang along, tried to teach Lou, but she wouldn’t pay attention. At the fair, the Coldbrook Volunteer Fire Department had a booth, DUNK THE KID, WIN A PRIZE, and Lou let me climb up onto the chair. I screamed for her to watch, but she kept looking down at the envelope clutched in her hand. When Teddy Rubinstein pitched the softball on target, I let my breath out under the frigid water and felt my head turn to bubbles, filling with whiteness, with air. A fireman pulled on my T-shirt and up I came. Faces smiling, hands clapping.
Teddy has gone to a baseball game in Germantown. Mom has gone away too. Again, yesterday, somewhere, out the door and down the drive before I could change my mind and ask where. I’ve been giving her the silent treatment Please, Snooks, stop. Stop giving me the silent treatment. Beyond my toes, beyond the foot of Lou’s bed and out the window, my father kneels in his summer garden. I can see him turning brown earth with gentle hands someamazingflower and stopping to caress a new pink petal. Cat hisses, plucks at the screen.
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