by Dara Girard
Brother Jeremiah wiped his forehead with a worn handkerchief. "What should I do? I need that money by the end of the month. Laud God help me!"
Mr. Barnett gave his friend a reassuring pat on the shoulder sensing his distress. "Let me think it over and I'll call you this evening."
"Thank you." He turned like a startled deer when he heard his wife call him. "I'll wait for your call," he said before disappearing in the crowd.
Mr. Barnett made his purchases then he and Janet headed for home. He didn't speak most of the way then said, "What do you think of Brother Jeremiah's troubles?"
Janet hid a smile used to her father's sly way of asking her advice. "Daddy, you've always followed the ways of Solomon. Doesn't he talk about seeking counsel? Shouldn't Brother Jeremiah seek out a financial counselor to help him know how to work with customers such as this one —now and in the future?"
"Hmm. Yes, I think you're right. I thought the same." Her father placed his hand on her shoulder, with just enough pressure to make her wince. "What did I tell you about the Maliks?" he asked in the same neutral tone.
Janet swallowed. "I was just saying hello."
He tightened his grip. "That wasn't my question."
"You told me not to talk or visit them."
"So why did I see you over there?"
"I have no excuse."
He didn't speak for a few moments then said, "I forgive you. Tonight we'll watch The Harder They Come."
Janet resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Her father always had them watch the Jimmy Cliff classic movie about a young Jamaican corrupted by city life and the church woman, who loves him, leaves the church and sleeps with him, but then is betrayed. Janet didn't mind watching the movie because she loved the soundtrack and it was the only time they were allowed to listen to reggae.
"Okay," she said.
He halted and forced her to face him, his dark eyes piercing. "And don't disobey me again."
Chapter 9
A bright red cardinal swooped down to grab an abandoned French fry only to be beaten by a squirrel. This event went unnoticed by Janet who sat on a concrete bench outside the Student Union building, staring at her grade.
"You look like you want to fly," a familiar voice said.
Janet looked up and saw Marisa. She waved her paper. "I got an A."
"I'm glad." She hesitated. "We weren't sure you'd come back."
"I wasn't sure either, but I had to finish what I started." And going to school was freeing.
It didn't matter that her parents didn't care about her grades, or that her sisters didn't understand her ambition. Here she didn't have to placate some man; she could freely express her opinions without censure. Art was her passion. She'd discovered it at age three when she'd first plopped her hands in wet paint and spread bright colors all over a sheet of paper. The messy wildness of that experience intrigued her. And as her talent grew, she felt and enjoyed the exhilarating power of creating images—of taking what was in her mind or in front of her and transferring it onto a surface. Her parents found her hobby harmless because initially she primarily did paint-by-numbers of simple scenes and sketches of people's faces, which she kept in her closet, but they didn't know her hidden passion—abstraction and surrealism.
"Here. My professor also liked this." She opened up her portfolio and showed her friend a sketch she had done of her mother and Mrs. Lind in the kitchen.
"Amazing," Marisa said then a gush of wind swept past scattering Janet's drawings. "Quick before they blow away!"
The two women scrambled to catch them as people strolled past. Janet tucked what she could away and Marisa rushed back to her breathless. "Did you see him?" she asked handing Janet the rest of her work.
"Who?"
"That black guy. My God how could you have missed him?" She swung her head around trying to find him again.
"What's so special about him?"
"He's one of the most gorgeous men I've ever seen and he helped me get your pictures." She giggled. "He actually thought they were mine, but I wasn't going to take the credit so I pointed you out."
"Oh," Janet said with little interest. "Well, thank him for me, if you see him again."
"I'll certainly try," Marisa said with a cunning grin.
* * *
Errol Seabright was an ordinary man with a long face and heavyset body. Nothing exciting happened to him. Money was tight, but fortunately the women were loose so he was never bored. He thought life was good. He sat out on the twelve foot wooden terrace that wrapped around the cut stone building he helped manage with his sister Sigonya. The house sat on the rolling hills of Hanover near Montego Bay and offered him an enviable view of the lush vegetation including the banana, grapefruit, and tangerine trees and sea in the distance.
He liked his work and the opportunity it gave him to look after his Aunt who used to be a housekeeper when the owners had lived there. Now the place was rented to visitors. Life was calm with few surprises until a letter came through the mail one day. He stared at it with amazement then jumped up from his seat on the porch and called through the screen door.
"Sigonya!"
"What?"
"Come quick!"
A thin rail of a woman with thick braids pulled back with a scarf appeared at the screen door but didn't come out. "What is it?"
"We get a wedding invitation!"
"From who?"
"Peter Jerome."
"The mayor's grandson found himself a wife?"
"Yes."
She stepped outside and snatched the invitation from him. "Let mi see for miself. I never thought dat I would live long enough to see him get married."
"He's a man."
"I know but dat bwoy weird."
"How you mean?"
"Remember when he'd come visit for summer holidays? How stiff and stuck up he was. Just cause him family have a toilet inside the house instead of outside."
Errol kissed his teeth. "We all do the same ting in it."
"Exactly, but that family was always that way. Always tinking dem better than others."
Errol sat down and rocked back in his chair. "We going?"
Sigonya smiled at her brother. "Of course. Dis is a show we haffi see."
* * *
"What are you wearing?" Mrs. Barnett demanded when she saw Janet come down the steps.
Janet glanced down. "My dress for the engagement party."
Mrs. Barnett waved her away. "Go back upstairs and change into your blue dress."
"Why?"
"Because Jeffrey Framer is going to be there and I learned from a reliable source that he favors the color blue."
"But I don't have a blue dress."
"You have the one Grandma Lucy sent you three years ago."
Janet gasped in horror. "But I hate—"
"I don't care." Mrs. Barnett shoved her back up the stairs.
"Dee-dee, please—"
"Do you want me to go get your father? Go change."
Janet passed Maxine and Trudy in the hallway. Both girls tried to hide their giggles as she headed to her room.
Moments later Janet emerged wearing a blue dress with enough ruffles to make her resemble a life-size carnation. Mrs. Barnett beamed when she saw her. "That's much better," she said walking around her. "Now you are to do only two things tonight: Smile and keep your mouth shut. The moment you feel like opening it, put food inside. Is that understood?"
Janet nodded.
Maxine bounded down the stairs then spun around in her yellow dress. "How do I look?"
"Beautiful as always," Mrs. Barnett said. "If only you were a little older."
"I'll be sixteen soon."
"Yes, but not old enough. Trudy let me see you. Yes, that's lovely and Francine." She looked at her middle child and controlled a wince. The dress was attractive, but did nothing to help her face. "You'll do. And of course Beverly." She looked at her eldest daughter then touched her chest speechless. Brother Jerome had sent Beverly an expensive, full-
length, green sheath dress with delicate lace trim, and sewn-on sequins down the side. She looked like a rich woman. "You are perfect as always."
* * *
When Janet entered the ballroom, she nearly ran out in horror. A sea of blue dresses choked the room. All unmarried women between the ages of eighteen to sixty-eight had adorned themselves in blue. And the ladies from Janet's church stood out like an oak tree in a rose bed. All their dresses reached below their knees and elbows. While some of their gowns were stylish and elegant they were no match for the women whose outfits displayed a lot more flesh. Janet wanted to disappear into the coat closet. Mrs. Barnett saw the look of dismay on her daughter's face and said brightly, "Never mind. Your dress looks the best and you're prettier than them anyway. Jezebels," she muttered under her breath as one young woman in a strapless dress sauntered past. "He's still a man of God and won't be swayed by them. He'll want a good woman in the church."
Janet offered her mother a strained smile then saw Valerie off to the side. She raced over to her. Although her friend also wore blue, it was subtle and very classy. Janet hugged herself as though she were trying to squeeze tight enough to make herself disappear. "It's so humiliating."
"At least you're not alone in your humiliation."
"You're only wearing a hint of blue. I'm drowning in it. No one could tell the difference between me and a blueberry. I'm not even interested in Jeffrey Farmer."
"Just wait until you see him. You might change your mind. Wait... I think I see him now."
Valerie wasn't the only one. Soon a rustling of gossip filled the air as all eyes turned to the entrance. Jeffrey Farmers' sisters, Karen and Tanya, entered first. They were a very distinguished pair who would have caught people's attention even if they did not have an eligible brother. Both women had nut brown skin and attractive figures, but their similarities ended there. Karen was not a beautiful woman, but her arrogance gave the impression that she was. This illusion was furthered by her money and status in the community. Tanya was better looking, but didn't know it so she ate up compliments like a vulture living on crumbs.
Jeffrey walked in behind them. He'd been given all the good looks in the family, and the humility. He had an easy going nature and an ability to light up a room just by entering it. His smile fell on the first person he met—Sister Daniels. She returned the expression then crumpled to the floor in a faint. Sister Daniels' collapse caused a commotion briefly redirecting people's attention from the last person to enter.
"Just as handsome as I remembered," Valerie said of Jeffrey.
"Who is that man with him?" Janet said, noticing his companion.
"I don't know. He's certainly not from around here."
Within moments their mothers raced up to the two young women, unaware that Francine was following close behind because she had nothing better to do. Sister Williams said in an excited tone, "Do you see that other man?"
"It's hard not to," Janet said intrigued. He was the tallest and most handsome man in the room. She couldn't help but stare.
"He's rich and he's Jeffrey's closest friend. He is going to help with the construction. His name is Frederick Durand and he's an Original."
"From the Continent," Francine added.
Mrs. Barnett sent her middle daughter a cutting glance. "Where else do Originals come from, silly girl?"
"I wonder which part?" Valerie asked studying the stranger's fine, handsome features.
"His parents are West African and it's rumored that his wealth is twice that of the Farmers. In the hundreds of millions," Sister Williams added.
"Pity he doesn't past the JCE test," Janet added, still unable to remove her gaze. She admired his air of authority and compelling presence that penetrated the crowded room. He was a new and refreshing sight. She wondered how she could finagle an introduction.
Mrs. Barnett grabbed Janet's hand determined to put her matchmaking plans into action. "He's not important."
Half of the crowd agreed with her and quickly dismissed Frederick Durand because of his background—an Original and either a Methodist, Anglican or Muslim, because most Originals were—which was a pity because he was so rich. They could accept him if he was Anglican, but the fact that he hailed from the continent was too much of a difference for most of them to overlook.
Soon the other half dismissed him because of his conduct. He hardly spoke. When he did—or rather was forced to—his replies were short and curt. He never smiled and stationed himself against the wall as though he'd entered a leper colony and was afraid of infection. Gossip quickly spread about the Original's bad behavior.
"Look at him keeping to himself away from our girls," one guest said.
"You have to be careful around them," her friend replied.
"I don't trust dem at all," a third admitted. "My Gloria knew a friend of hers who married one, went home to his country and found out she was his sixth wife! It took her three years to save enough money to come back to America."
"Her parents let her marry?"
"She met him at the college and didn't ask permission."
Mr. Barnett overheard the conversation and spoke up. "That's why children always should."
"Hm," the first woman said casting a look at the newcomer. "I know he's close to the Farmers, but I wonder why he came at all."
"I'm glad he's here," her fourteen year old daughter said in a dreamy voice. "He's gorgeous."
The women gasped and the girl's mother boxed her ears, told her to go and the conversation changed to something else.
Mrs. Barnett didn't care about the gossip. She kept Janet at her side until she could find an opportunity to put her plan into action. "You must reacquaint yourself with Jeffrey before you lose your chance." She searched the room then seized an opportunity and shoved Janet into Jeffrey's path; fortunately he stopped himself before he crashed into her.
"Excuse me," Janet stammered.
He smiled. "It's my fault. There are a lot of people here. I have to watch where I'm going."
She held out her hand. Through the corner of her eye she could see her mother making a face in horror, but ignored her. "I'm Janet Barnett. You may not remember me..."
Jeffrey vigorously shook her hand and his smile grew. "Of course I remember you. And your sister Beverly and your other sisters..." he faltered.
"Francine, Trudy and Maxine."
He nodded. "Yes, they must be all grown up now."
"Not quite." At that moment she saw her sister, Francine, talking to an older woman who looked as though she was ready to fall asleep. Then her gaze fell on Maxine and Trudy who were flirting with two musicians from the ensemble who were taking a break. One of them, a good looking young man with an athletic build, was showing Maxine how to hold his violin and bow in a manner that put their bodies very close together.
"So is everyone doing well?" Jeffrey said.
Janet snapped back to their conversation. "Yes."
"Your mother and father are in good health?"
"Yes, excellent," she said seeing her father's loaded plate as he sat at a table with several other men. She didn't dare look at her mother. "Thank you." She cleared her throat. "I am sorry about your loss."
An expression of sadness skittered across his face. "It was very kind how the community came together to honor my father."
"We all loved and admired him."
"That is why I'm finishing his project and dedicating a wing to him. We plan to have a big event to celebrate."
She looked past him. "We?"
"Yes, my friend Frederick and I." He snapped his fingers. "I should introduce you. You two would like each other." He turned.
Janet's heart began to race at the thought of speaking to the stranger, but then she saw her father's watchful gaze and knew it wouldn't be a good idea. She seized Jeffrey's arm and turned him back to her. "Perhaps another time."
He blinked confused by her hesitation but nodded. "Okay."
"Wonderful," she said feeling silly.
&nbs
p; "So what have you been up to?"
"I'm studying Art History at the university. I plan to maybe work at a museum or teach."
"Good for you." Jeffrey glanced up when someone called his name and motioned him over.
"You're popular," Janet said feeling his hesitation.
"Yes," he said with a shade of regret that was instantly replaced by a grin. "Perhaps we could talk longer a little later."
"Thank you." She backed away. "I'd like that."
He tugged one of the ruffles of her sleeve. "Nice dress," he said then left.
Janet suddenly remembered the ugly dress she wore and covered her eyes wanting to melt into the floor.
"What did you say?" her mother demanded once Jeffrey had gone.
Janet let her hand fall. "I talked about our family and his father."
"That's all?"
"There wasn't time. I thought you didn't want me to say much."
"Don't be irritating. You know when it's the proper time to talk."
"He's not interested in me."
"Then be more interesting," Mrs. Barnett said.
"Without opening my mouth?"
"Just smile and listen. A man always finds a pretty woman interesting. If you stay silent long enough he'll convince himself you're beautiful." The mention of beautiful things turned Mrs. Barnett's thoughts to her eldest daughter. "Now I must go find Beverly."
Mrs. Barnett found Beverly surrounded by people offering congratulations. Brother Jerome stood at her side his hand resting on her shoulder as though he'd glued it there.
Mother Shea came up behind her. "I am so happy that I played a role in this union. Not a big part mind, just a little one. Just think. It was my dream that made this certain and I helped spread the good news. But, as you all know, I am not one to put myself forward to receive praise. My gift is from God. I know my place, and that although small, my part in this blessing will be remembered."
Mrs. Barnett nodded. "Yes, of course."