Dew Angels

by Melanie Schwapp

  Nola heard hurried steps coming towards the room, followed by Aunt May’s panting breaths. “What’s the matter with this little one, now?” her cooing voice called from outside the door.

  But when she got to the doorway, she froze. “Nola! What are you doing?”

  The little head turned towards Aunt May’s voice.

  “She was cryin’. You told me to run in …. ” Nola began to explain, but Aunt May’s shaking head stopped her.

  The woman looked anxiously back down the passage. “No child, I said that I was coming for her.” She walked hastily up to Nola and took the baby out of her arms. “Go! Go back to the mopping.”

  Coming for her … Run in for her! Nola had heard wrong. She turned to leave the room quickly, picking up on Aunt May’s anxiety, but just as she got to the door, she was met by another set of clicking heels.

  Petra said nothing, looking in disbelief from Nola to Aunt May before she pushed roughly past Nola and walked over to Aunt May.

  She was dressed up, Nola noticed, her high heels clicking smartly on the tile, her turquoise linen dress belted neatly at the waist and thick hair braided into six tight cornrows. Her lips gleamed beneath pink gloss.

  “You let her in here?” Her voice was a hoarse whisper.

  Aunt May shifted the baby from one shoulder to the other and patted Petra reassuringly on her head. “It was an accident, Dear. Nola heard the baby screaming and tried to call me. She thought I said to get her.”

  “Thought you said to get her?” Petra turned a stiff chin to Nola. “You ever see anybody else in this house touch my pickney except Aunty? You ever see me ask anybody in this house for help with my pickney except Aunty? You neva thought Aunty say to get her, you just damn fast! You just wanted to come in here and laugh, don’t it? Eh? Who tell you to come? That whore, Olive? Well you can go tell her! You can go tell the whole lot of them ‘bout the freak that come out of me. Go on, nuh!” She pointed at the doorway. “Go tell them ‘bout the freak!”

  “No, no,” was all Nola could say, shaking her head vigorously, her eyes racing helplessly from Petra to Aunt May.

  “TINY!” All of a sudden, it was ‘Slugga’ from Redding Secondary School who stood before them. “Tiny!” Slugga rasped again, “don’t you ever refer to this child as a freak again! I told you it was an accident! Kendra was crying and Nola only came to help!”

  As if on cue, the baby began to cry again. It must have been the crackling tension in the room, the anger in its mother’s voice, for it lifted its head from Aunt May’s shoulder and wailed as if it were once again trapped beneath the blanket. Aunt May began to bounce just as Nola had done.

  “Nola,” Aunt May nodded reassuringly at the door, “You can go to your mopping. I soon come.”

  “NO!”

  Nola blinked in shock as Petra grabbed the wailing baby out of Aunt May’s arms.

  “No!” Petra repeated, “She came to see the freak, so let her see it! How ‘bout we show everybody, eh? Might as well, cause she goin’ tell them anyway! She goin’ tell everybody, and all of them goin’ to laugh at me, Aunty!”

  “Tiny! You’re frightening Kendra! Give her back to me till we all calm down.”

  But Petra shook her head.

  “You know what them say at the home, Aunty? That them don’t have no space for a retarded chile, that the home can only take children that have a chance for adoption cause them can’t afford to keep them indefinitely! You know what the lady tell me to do? She say I must leave her at the police station!—at night, when no one can see. Leave her right there outside the station so them will have no choice but to find a home for her.”

  Nola gasped, and Aunt May flashed her hand irritatedly at the door again, indicating that she should leave. But she couldn’t move. She stood rooted to the spot.

  “No, Tiny, no! Stop that nonsense about a children’s home. I told you we can look after Kendra! You and me, we can manage. She’s not retarded. She’s not a freak. She doesn’t need any home but this one!”

  “Aunty, you don’t see? All her life people like this …” she jabbed a finger in Nola’s direction, ignoring the Kendra’s escalating wails as her elbow jarred the baby’s back, “goin’ sneak to look at her, to laugh, and tease her … all her life! All her life!”

  Suddenly, the baby turned her head and Nola looked straight into her eyes. They were brimming with tears and wide with fright. Something in that look, something familiar in the helplessness of it, jarred Nola so deeply that the words were out of her mouth before she even realized it.

  “So what you think, Petra? That givin’ her up goin’ stop people from laughin’? Or is just that you don’t want to be around to deal with it?”

  Once again, Petra’s blazing eyes were on her, but it was not Petra’s eyes that Nola saw. The hatred in them was so strong, so fierce and familiar. Cold, grey flames of hate. Nola did not quiver. The baby’s pleading eyes had given rise to an anger of her very own.

  “Stop pretendin’ that it’s ‘bout the baby, Petra! You know that it’s just yourself you’re thinkin’ ‘bout, and the shame you feel! Look at her,” Nola pointed at the baby’s head, pecking anxiously at her mother’s breast. “All that matter to her is that you love her. It don’t matter to her what nobody else think!”

  “You want her? You want her? You think that you could deal with a retarded chile better than me?” Petra pushed the screaming baby into Nola’s arms, and immediately Nola began to bounce, reassuring the fearful eyes that stared up at her.

  Aunt May grabbed the girl by the shoulders. “Tiny, you gone off of your head or what? That’s your child! Nola is right, you have to deal with it, and you know that I’m here to help you. I tell you, these things happen all the time, and the children grow up to be strong and independent. They grow up just fine, Tiny, going to school and everything! Kendra is going to be fine!”

  Petra was sobbing now. “No, Aunty. ” She buried her face in her hands and shook her head dejectedly, “Look at her! Look how she ugly.”

  Nola’s heart cracked. Right down the middle, it cracked. Is that how Mama and Papa had felt about her. We’re the same, little Kendra, you and me. Don’t worry, I’ll be here for you, too.

  “Take her!” Petra was shouting at her again. “Take her for everybody to see! Take her in the street and make them laugh, so that she can grow used to it from now!”

  “Nobody goin’ laugh unless you make them feel there’s someting to laugh at, Petra,” Nola said quietly.

  Aunt May gave Petra’s shoulder another little shake “Tiny, you can’t lock her up forever. Six months of hiding is enough! Look at Nola, she’s not laughing! Everybody will know that it’s just one of those things, Tiny, and everybody will love Kendra, just like us!

  “Okay, Aunty. Okay then! Time to show my mistake to the world, eh? Time for everybody to see what I been hidin’!”

  And with that, Petra grabbed the baby from Nola’s arms and clicked out of the bedroom. Aunt May gave Nola a bewildered look before waddling after her.

  “Come everybody!” Nola could hear Petra shouting from the kitchen. “Come and see what Petra been hidin’!”

  Then she heard Aunt May’s voice, “Not like this, Tiny! Tiny, stop this behaviour right now!”

  Nola ran after them, just in time to see Petra rush out the kitchen with the baby held out from her chest like a bag of waste. Petra rushed around the side of the house and out the gate, right into the middle of the street. She stopped there, and hoisted the baby high in the air. The baby smiled, liking this new game.

  “Come, everybody! Come and see Petra’s freak! Come and see the thing that Petra made, the thing that not even its own daddy can bear to look at!”

  Nola had overtaken Aunt May’s puffing body by the side of the house, and now she stood before Petra in the middle of the road, not knowing what to do next. People were watching – two women by the gate of the house next door, three up at the top of the road by the Rasta’s cook shop, and one pair of eyes
that peeped through the window of the house opposite them. All had turned to see what the commotion was about, and when the two women by the gate spotted Petra spinning the baby high above her head, they nudged each other and pointed at the unfolding spectacle. The girl jiggled the gurgling baby towards the eyes at the window and shouted, “Miss Myrtle! Miss Myrtle, come see nuh? You keep askin’ for the baby. Now you can see it! Come and see Petra’s retard!”

  The two women by the gate, overcome with curiosity, walked over to Aunt May, fanning their faces with excitement.

  “What goin’ on, Miss May? Petra alright there?” one asked.

  Aunt May walked over to Petra and jerked her arms up for the baby. “Tiny! Shamesh on yoush, making a mockery of your own childsh!” she hissed.

  A car was coming. Nola heard the rev of the engine, from up at the corner by the Rasta’s cook shop, shrieking an obnoxious warning as the vehicle tore at full speed towards them.

  “Lawd Jeeesus!” One of the inquisitive women grabbed her head, and hobbled back to the sidewalk. “Unnu don’t see that car comin’? Get out the road, May!”

  But neither Aunt May nor Petra moved. The driver slammed on his brakes, skidding across the road towards Nola. The gravel sprayed Nola’s face as the other inquisitive woman grabbed her and screamed for the mighty Lord to save them all.

  The car did not stop, straightening itself with a irritated screech in front of Aunt May’s gate, then continuing on its way. The driver stuck his head out of the window and shouted, “Unnu get unnu backside out the road! You ever see car inna hospital yet?”

  “Miss May, you and Petra gone mad or what? What you doin’ in the middle of the road with that baby?” Miss Myrtle came down to the gate, eyes wide, and her head laden with colourful rollers under a black hairnet.

  Aunt May dropped her hands to her sides in defeat. “It’s okay, Miss Myrtle. Petra just playing with the baby. We’re going inside just now.”

  “Petra,” Aunt May’s voice still sounded shaky, but there was a warning edge to it that Nola knew well. “I think you need to get that baby inside the house right now. If not, I’m going to have to call the doctor.”

  Slowly, Petra lowered the baby; and still cheerful from the treat of being outdoors, the baby gurgled playfully and tried to grab her mother’s ear.

  “Wha’ happen, Maysie? Wha’ happenin’ to Petra there? Everybody up by Ab say that car nearly lick the two of you down, and Petra down here screamin’ like a mad dog with ticks!” It was Nathan, returning from work. He walked up to Aunt May and Petra, squinting as he focused on the baby in the glare of the afternoon light. Nola saw the unmistakable widening of his eyes as he stared at the thick smile on Kendra’s face, and she heard the loud whistle of breath as it was expelled from his nostrils.

  The man’s reaction did not go unnoticed. Petra immediately rested her forehead on Kendra’s head and began to sob quietly.

  “Come then.” Nathan was the one to finally speak. He took the baby from Petra’s shaking arms. “Make we get this little one inside before she catch cold in her mole. Night dew soon come down on us out here.”

  Petra looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “You see her, Nathan, you see her?” she whispered.

  “Yes, Pet, me see her. Come now. Come off of this street before car lick we down.” He walked off with Kendra staring curiously up at his shiny face, her tongue flapping heavily with the walk.

  CHAPTER

  29

  It turned out that Aunt May did call the doctor for Petra. While Nola, Mrs. Lyndsay and Nathan waited in the kitchen, the doctor’s and Aunt May’s murmuring voices could be heard trying to soothe Petra in the bedroom.

  Mrs. Lyndsay fed Kendra. The baby sucked contentedly, rivulets of milk drained down her chin, forming a white ring around her neck. They all sat in silence, the baby’s sucking noises oddly soothing to their frayed nerves, until Aunt May came heavy-lidded out of the room to see the doctor out and to take Kendra in for bed.

  Nola didn’t realize how exhausted she was till she collapsed on the floor of her room later that night. Her body felt heavy with the effects of the evening, the baby’s distorted face snagging on her brain like a loose thread on a macca bush. She put her head on the pillow and took a deep breath of the comforting musk.

  She sighed, remembering the helplessness in Kendra’s eyes when her mother had wailed over her head. All she’d wanted to do was to grab her and run away. Run and never stop till they were far from every human being who would ever make that child feel ashamed of who she was; of how she looked.

  A quiet knock on the door sent her scrambling up onto the bed. Aunt May’s sweat-limped curls poked in, followed by her side-turned body. She nodded at Nola, then went to stand in front of the sash window, peering intently into the darkness.

  When she finally spoke, her voice sounded thin. “Down’s Syndrome. You know what that is? Mongoloid. Kendra was born like that, and Petra wanted to leave her at the hospital, to just get up one night and leave, so that they couldn’t find her to force her to take the baby home. But,” Aunt May sighed, “I told her that everything was going to be fine, that I would come and help with the baby and everything was going to be fine. Every morning, every day I have to be coaxing Tiny not to give up on her baby. You know where she went today? To a home, a children’s home! She went there to beg them to take Kendra, even though I told her not to, even though I told her that we could manage.”

  She leaned wearily on the side of the window jamb. “Tiny suffers from depression. Been on medication from she was 13. Of course, you not supposed to get pregnant while on such things, but it took her by surprise when it happened. It took us all by surprise. Anyway, as soon as she found out, she came off. The depression wasn’t so bad while she was pregnant, hormones, and other such delights, the doctor said. Some people get better, some get worse, and Tiny was one of the lucky ones. But then, the baby came, and you can see how that would set her off. The doctor said it could have been from the medication, maybe not, maybe it’s just one of those things that happen.”

  Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat, “Anyway, Tiny went back on her medication, and now, she has her good days and her bad days. It’s just that when it comes to Kendra she’s not so rational. She thinks that everybody’s out to get her—to mock her. The doctor told me just to give her time to adjust and she would learn how to deal with it, but … time has to run out some time. If it wasn’t you, Nola, then it would have been something else. Tiny’s been waiting to explode for some time now.”

  Nola didn’t know what to say. Depression? A beautiful girl like Petra, so loved and adored by everyone, suffering from depression? It just didn’t make sense.

  “When I saw you holding Kendra in the room today, it felt so good to see that baby getting a little loving. She deserves all the love she can get, if it’s not going to come from her own mother, then maybe it’s better if it comes from someone else.” Aunt May smiled gently. “You musn’t feel guilty about today, Nola. Thanks to you, Kendra’s free from that room now.”

  “Remember the bundle of sticks? Well, Kendra is part of it, and she needs all of us to band around her. Alright, bed now. We have a long day tomorrow. Remember, we have that appointment to look at your new school.”

  New school? Oh God, she’d forgotten that! Aunt May had said she’d registered her to start in September, but who was going to take care of Kendra?

  “But …,” Nola began to protest, but when Aunt May turned back with those eyebrows pulled high by their strings, she looked away again.

  “That’s that, then.” Aunt May nodded, satisfied, and turned to squeeze herself out of the doorway.

  CHAPTER

  30

  Nola watched the woman pull on the cigarette till the tip gleamed red, then ash white as she expelled a puff of smoke. She coughed again, that dry, racking cough that pulled her shoulder blades so far forward that they almost met in the centre of her chest. Eventually she looked at her watch and flicked th
e cigarette stub into the car park.

  She was in charge of the supermarket—the manager. Nola had figured it out because of the way she cussed the workers, especially the young boy who packed the items on the shelves, and the way she smiled widely when any of the richer looking patrons entered the store. Her favourite customer, the one with whom she smiled the most, was a young man who drove a sleek black Honda and always parked right in front of the entrance, right over the ‘NO PARKING’ words painted on the asphalt. She grinned from ear to ear when he came into the supermarket and never accepted payment for the Wriggley’s gum he took from her cage.

  The woman sat in the tiny grilled area on the left of the doorway and it was from there she barked her instructions to the employees. The first time Nola walked into the supermarket the woman had scowled at her from the cage, guessing that since Nola was in a school uniform, she wouldn’t have had much money to spend.

  Save Rite Supermarket the sign read, just as Dahlia had said the name of her parents’ supermarket was. But there was no sign of a man with Dahlia’s features inside. Nola had even lingered by the door leading into the back storeroom, searching through the cooler bin and pretending to have difficulty with the choice between the processed cheese and cheddar cheese. However, the only people she saw going in and out of the room were the packing boy and an older man with a limp. No handsome, handsome, man as Dahlia had described her papa.

  Nola had found the place from memory of Dahlia’s proud descriptions—the plaza by the taxi stand in Cross Roads—and there it was, right under the billboard advertising the variety of goods in the little square of shops. It was as if the world went silent when Nola spotted the sign. There it was, the place that Dahlia had spoken of so reverently, where she’d lived happy times with a sober papa and dear Merlene. Nola stood in front of the doors for a long time, imagining carefree Dahlia and smiling Merlene going in and out of them, walking over those same cracked tiles, thinking life so wonderful.