To the street, however, Edward was something of a menace.
He would see Mrs Morgan wearing a new dress and say, ‘Ah, Mrs Morgan, is a nice nice dress you wearing there, but I think it could do with some sort of decoration.’
Or he would see Eddoes wearing a new shirt and say, ‘Eh, eh, Eddoes, you wearing a new shirt, man. You write your name in it, you know, otherwise somebody pick it up brisk brisk one of these days. Tell you what, I go write it for you.’
He ruined many garments in this way.
He also had the habit of giving away ties he had decorated himself. He would say, ‘I have something for you. Take it and wear it. I giving it to you because I like you.’
And if the tie wasn’t worn, Edward would get angry and begin shouting, ‘But you see how ungrateful black people is. Listen to this. I see this man not wearing tie. I take a bus and I go to town. I walk to Johnson’s and I look for the gents’ department. I meet a girl and I buy a tie. I take a bus back home. I go inside my room and take up my brush and unscrew my paint. I dip my brush in paint and I put the brush on the tie. I spend two three hours doing that, and after all this, the man ain’t wearing my tie.’
But Edward did a lot more than just paint.
One day, not many months after I had come to the street, Edward said, ‘Coming back on the bus from Cocorite last night I only hearing the bus wheel cracking over crab back. You know the place by the coconut trees and the swamp? There it just crawling with crab. People say they even climbing up the coconut trees.’
Hat said, ‘They does come out a lot at full moon. Let we go tonight and catch some of the crabs that Edward see.’
Edward said, ‘Is just what I was going to say. We will have to take the boys because it have so much crab even they could pick up a lot.’
So we boys were invited.
Edward said, ‘Hat, I was thinking. It go be a lot easier to catch the crab if we take a shovel. It have so much you could just shovel them up.’
Hat said, ‘All right. We go take the cow-pen shovel.’
Edward said, ‘That settle. But look, all you have strong shoes? You better get strong shoes, you know, because these crab and them ain’t playing big and if you don’t look out they start walking away with your big toe before you know what is what.’
Hat said, ‘I go use the leggings I does wear when I cleaning out the cow-pen.’
Edward said, ‘And we better wear gloves. I know a man was catching crab one day and suddenly he see his right hand walking away from him. He look again and see four five crab carrying it away. This man jump up and begin one bawling. So we have to be careful. If you boys ain’t have gloves just wrap some cloth over your hands. That go be all right.’
So late that night we all climbed into the Cocorite bus, Hat in his leggings, Edward in his, and the rest of us carrying cutlasses and big brown sacks.
The shovel Hat carried still stank from the cow-pen and people began squinging up their noses.
Hat said, ‘Let them smell it. They does all want milk when the cow give it.’
People looked at the leggings and the cutlasses and the shovel and the sacks and looked away quickly. They stopped talking. The conductor didn’t ask for our fares. The bus was silent until Edward began to talk.
Edward said, ‘We must try and not use the cutlass. It ain’t nice to kill. Try and get them live and put them in the bag.’
Many people got off at the next stop. By the time the bus got to Mucurapo Road it was carrying only us. The conductor stood right at the front talking to the driver.
Just before we got to the Cocorite terminus Edward said, ‘Oh God, I know I was forgetting something. We can’t bring back all the crab in a bus. I go have to go and telephone for a van.’
He got off one stop before the terminus.
We walked a little way in the bright moonlight, left the road and climbed down into the swamp. A tired wind blew from the sea, and the smell of stale sea-water was everywhere. Under the coconut trees it was dark. We walked a bit further in. A cloud covered the moon and the wind fell.
Hat called out, ‘You boys all right? Be careful with your foot. I don’t want any of you going home with only three toes.’
Boyee said, ‘But I ain’t seeing any crab.’
Ten minutes later Edward joined us.
He said, ‘How many bags you full?’
Hat said, ‘It look like a lot of people had the same idea and come and take away all the crab.’
Edward said, ‘Rubbish. You don’t see the moon ain’t showing. We got to wait until the moon come out before the crab come out. Sit down, boys, let we wait.’
The moon remained clouded for half an hour.
Boyee said, ‘It making cold and I want to go home. I don’t think it have any crab.’
Errol said, ‘Don’t mind Boyee. I know him. He just frighten of the dark and he fraid the crab bite him.’
At this point we heard a rumbling in the distance.
Hat said, ‘It look like the van come.’
Edward said, ‘It ain’t a van really. I order a big truck from Sam.’
We sat in silence waiting for the moon to clear. Then about a dozen torch-lights flashed all around us. Someone shouted, ‘We ain’t want any trouble. But if any one of you play the fool you going to get beat up bad.’
We saw what looked like a squad of policemen surrounding us.
Boyee began to cry.
Edward said, ‘It have man beating their wife. It have people breaking into other people house. Why you policemen don’t go and spend your time doing something with sense, eh? Just for a change.’
A policeman said, ‘Why you don’t shut up? You want me to spit in your mouth?’
Another policeman said, ‘What you have in those bags?’
Edward said, ‘Only crab. But take care. They is big crab and they go bite off your hand.’
Nobody looked inside the bags and then a man with a lot of stripes said, ‘Everybody playing bad-man these days. Everybody getting full of smart answers, like the Americans and them.’
A policeman said, ‘They have bag, they have cutlass, they have shovel, they have glove.’
Hat said, ‘We was catching crab.’
The policeman said, ‘With shovel? Eh, eh, what happen that you suddenly is God and make a new sort of crab you could catch with shovel?’
It took a lot of talk to make the policemen believe our story.
The officer in charge said, ‘I go like to lay my hands on the son of a bitch who telephone and say you was going to kill somebody.’
Then the policemen left.
It was late and we had missed the last bus.
Hat said, ‘We had better wait for the truck Edward order.’
Edward said, ‘Something tell me that truck ain’t coming now.’
Hat said very slowly, half laughing and half serious, ‘Edward, you is my own brother, but you know you really is a son of a bitch.’
Edward sat down and just laughed and laughed.
Then the war came. Hitler invaded France and the Americans invaded Trinidad. Lord Invader made a hit with his calypso:
I was living with my decent and contented wife
Until the soldiers came and broke up my life.
For the first time in Trinidad there was work for everybody, and the Americans paid well. Invader sang:
Father, mother, and daughter
Working for the Yankee dollar!
Money in the land!
The Yankee dollar, oh!
Edward stopped working in the cow-pen and got a job with the Americans at Chaguaramas.
Hat said, ‘Edward, I think you foolish to do that. The Americans ain’t here forever and ever. It ain’t have no sense in going off and working for big money and then not having nothing to eat after three four years.’
Edward said, ‘This war look as though it go last a long long time. And the Americans not like the British, you know. They does make you work hard, but they does pay for it.’
Edward sold his share of the cows to Hat, and that marked the beginning of his drift away from us.
Edward surrendered completely to the Americans. He began wearing clothes in the American style, he began chewing gum, and he tried to talk with an American accent. We didn’t see much of him except on Sundays, and then he made us feel small and inferior. He grew fussy about his dress, and he began wearing a gold chain around his neck. He began wearing straps around his wrists, after the fashion of tennis-players. These straps were just becoming fashionable among smart young men in Port of Spain.
Edward didn’t give up painting, but he no longer offered to paint things for us, and I think most people were relieved. He entered some poster competition, and when his design didn’t win even a consolation prize, he grew really angry with Trinidad.
One Sunday he said, ‘I was stupid to send in anything I paint with my own two hands for Trinidad people to judge. What they know about anything? Now, if I was in America, it woulda be different. The Americans is people. They know about things.’
To hear Edward talk, you felt that America was a gigantic country inhabited by giants. They lived in enormous houses and they drove in the biggest cars of the world.
Edward used to say, ‘Look at Miguel Street. In America you think they have streets so narrow? In America this street could pass for a sidewalk.’
One night I walked down with Edward to Docksite, the American army camp. Through the barbed wire you could see the huge screen of an open-air cinema.
Edward said, ‘You see the sort of theatre they come and build in a stupid little place like Trinidad. Imagine the sort of thing they have in the States.’
And we walked down a little further until we came to a sentry in his box.
Edward used his best American accent and said, ‘What’s cooking, Joe?’
To my surprise the sentry, looking fierce under his helmet, replied, and in no time at all Edward and the sentry were talking away, each trying to use more swear words than the other.
When Edward came back to Miguel Street he began swaggering along and he said to me, ‘Tell them. Tell them how good I does get on with the Americans.’
And when he was with Hat he said, ‘Was talking the other night with a American – damn good friend – and he was telling me that as soon as the Americans enter the war the war go end.’
Errol said, ‘It ain’t that we want to win the war. As soon as they make Lord Anthony Eden Prime Minister the war go end quick quick.’
Edward said, ‘Shut up, kid.’
But the biggest change of all was the way Edward began talking of women. Up till then he used to say that he was finished with them for good. He made out that his heart had been broken a long time ago and he had made a vow. It was a vague and tragic story.
But now on Sundays Edward said, ‘You should see the sort of craft they have at the base. Nothing like these stupid Trinidad girls, you know. No, partner. Girls with style, girls with real class.’
I think it was Eddoes who said, ‘I shouldn’t let it worry you. They wouldn’t tangle with you, those girls. They want big big American men. You safe.’
Edward called Eddoes a shrimp and walked away in a huff.
He began lifting weights, and in this, too, Edward was running right at the head of fashion. I don’t know what happened in Trinidad about that time, but every young man became suddenly obsessed with the Body Beautiful ideal, and there were physique competitions practically every month. Hat used to console himself by saying, ‘Don’t worry. Is just a lot of old flash, you hear. They say they building muscle muscle. Just let them cool off and see what happen. All that thing they call muscle turn fat, you know.’
Eddoes said, ‘Is the funniest sight you could see. At the Dairies in Philip Street all you seeing these days is a long line of black black men sitting at the counter and drinking quart bottles of white milk. All of them wearing sleeveless jersey to show off their big arm.’
In about three months Edward made his appearance among us in a sleeveless jersey. He had become a really big man.
Presently he began talking about the women at the base who were chasing him.
He said, ‘I don’t know what they see in me.’
Somebody had the idea of organizing a Local Talent on Parade show and Edward said, ‘Don’t make me laugh. What sort of talent they think Trinidad have?’
The first show was broadcast and we all listened to it in Eddoes’s house. Edward kept on laughing all the time.
Hat said, ‘Why you don’t try singing yourself, then?’
Edward said, ‘Sing for who? Trinidad people?’
Hat said, ‘Do them a favour.’
To everybody’s surprise Edward began singing, and the time came when Hat had to say, ‘I just can’t live in the same house with Edward. I think he go have to move.’
Edward moved, but he didn’t move very far. He remained on our side of Miguel Street.
He said, ‘Is a good thing. I was getting tired of the cow smell.’
Edward went up for one of the Local Talent shows and in spite of everything we all hoped that he would win a prize of some sort. The show was sponsored by a biscuit company and I think the winner got some money.
‘They does give the others a thirty-one-cent pack of biscuits,’ Hat said.
Edward got a package of biscuits.
He didn’t bring it home, though. He threw it away.
He said, ‘Throw it away. Why I shouldn’t throw it away? You see, is just what I does tell you. Trinidad people don’t know good thing. They just born stupid. Down at the base it have Americans begging me to sing. They know what is what. The other day, working and singing at the base, the colonel come up and tell me I had a nice voice. He was begging me to go to the States.’
Hat said, ‘Why you don’t go then?’
Edward said fiercely, ‘Gimme time. Wait and see if I don’t go.’
Eddoes said, ‘What about all those woman and them who was chasing you? They catch up with you yet or they pass you?’
Edward said, ‘Listen, Joe, I don’t want to start getting tough with you. Do me a favour and shut up.’
When Edward brought any American friends to his house he pretended that he didn’t know us, and it was funny to see him walking with them, holding his arms in the American way, hanging loosely, like a gorilla’s.
Hat said, ‘All the money he making he spending it on rum and ginger, curryfavouring with them Americans.’
In a way, I suppose, we were all jealous of him.
Hat began saying, ‘It ain’t hard to get a work with the Americans. I just don’t want to have boss, that’s all. I like being my own boss.’
Edward didn’t mix much with us now.
One day he came to us with a sad face and said, ‘Hat, it look like if I have to get married.’
He spoke with his Trinidad accent.
Hat looked worried. He said, ‘Why? Why? Why you have to get married?’
‘She making baby.’
‘Is a damn funny thing to say. If everybody married because woman making baby for them it go be a hell of a thing. What happen that you want to be different now from everybody else in Trinidad? You come so American?’
Edward hitched up his tight American-style trousers and made a face like an American film actor. He said, ‘You know all the answers, don’t you? This girl is different. Sure I fall in love maybe once maybe twice before, but this kid’s different.’
Hat said, ‘She’s got what it takes?’
Edward said, ‘Yes.’
Hat said, ‘Edward, you is a big man. It clear that you make up your mind to married this girl. Why you come round trying to make me force you to married her? You is a big man. You ain’t have to come to me to get permission to do this to do that.’
When Edward left, Hat said, ‘Whenever Edward come to me with a lie, he like a little boy. He can’t lie to me. But if he married this girl, although I ain’t see she, I feel he go live to regret it.’
&
nbsp; Edward’s wife was a tall and thin white-skinned woman. She looked very pale and perpetually unwell. She moved as though every step cost her effort. Edward made a great fuss about her and never introduced us.
The women of the street lost no time in passing judgment.
Mrs Morgan said, ‘She is a born trouble-maker, that woman. I feel sorry for Edward. He get hisself in one mess.’
Mrs Bhakcu said, ‘She is one of these modern girls. They want their husband to work all day and come home and cook and wash and clean up. All they know is to put powder and rouge on their face and walk out swinging their backside.’
And Hat said, ‘But how she making baby? I can’t see anything.’
Edward dropped out of our circle completely.
Hat said, ‘She giving him good hell.’
And one day Hat shouted across the road to Edward, ‘Joe, come across here for a moment.’
Edward looked very surly. He asked in Trinidadian, ‘What you want?’
Hat smiled and said, ‘What about the baby? When it coming?’
Edward said, ‘What the hell you want to know for?’
Hat said, ‘I go be a funny sort of uncle if I wasn’t interested in my nephew.’
Edward said, ‘She ain’t making no more baby.’
Eddoes said, ‘So it was just a line she was shooting then?’
Hat said, ‘Edward, you lying. You make up all that in the first place. She wasn’t making no baby, and you know that. She didn’t tell you she was making baby, and you know that too. If you want to married the woman why you making all this thing about it?’
Edward looked very sad. ‘If you want to know the truth, I don’t think she could make baby.’
And when this news filtered through to the women of the street, they all said what my mother said.
She said, ‘How you could see pink and pale people ever making baby?’
And although we had no evidence, and although Edward’s house was still noisy with Americans, we felt that all was not well with Edward and his wife.
One Friday, just as it was getting dark, Edward ran up to me and said, ‘Put down that stupidness you reading and go and get a policeman.’
I said, ‘Policeman? But how I go go and get policeman just like that.’
Collected Short Fiction Page 15