Yesterday she had cried herself to sleep. She had not done that in years. She had deliberately tried to avoid thinking about this place but coming back had practically flailed her emotions, stripping her of all her defenses and leaving her raw and bleeding in the aftermath.
Just her first step on Jamaican soil was enough to make a tear spring to her eye. When she rented a car and drove into Montego Bay, her emotions were all over the place. Scattered shards of memory, so long in cold storage, were trying to fit themselves back together and solidify into Technicolor glimpses of her past. She contemplated the wisdom of coming back, but she had to. She had to at least set Carson free from their marriage.
Today was day two and already she had found out where Carson had his place. She found out that he had done well for himself. He was not even living in the old neighborhood anymore. That was something she was happy about because she had no intentions of going there to find him. She was never going back to that place. Never.
She was proud of Carson for moving out and moving on. She inhaled deeply. She always knew he had it in him to excel. He had the ambition of ten men in that compact body of his. Over the years, she had allowed herself just small thoughts of Carson. If she had given him any more space in her mind, she would have wanted to come back. Coming back would have been devastating for her.
Her cell phone buzzed beside her and she glanced at it wearily. Her voice was stuffy and sounded husky from her crying bout last night. She answered it anyhow. It was Marsha; her friend who she had left in charge of the hairdressing parlor that she owned in New York.
"Hey, girl," Marsha said, "just checking in."
"I am here," Alice said, "taking in some Caribbean breeze."
"Lucky you." Marsha said enviously. "I would exchange places with you right now."
"No, you wouldn't." Alice sighed. "I am psyching up myself to see my estranged husband."
"And your little girl?" Marsha added.
Alice was silent.
"Come on Alice," Marsha said encouragingly, "Remember you said you would make an effort."
Alice felt a stinging behind her eyes. Her voice had a shaky quality when she answered Marsha. "I am taking it a day at a time, Marsh."
Marsha sighed. "I am sorry for forcing the issue. On a brighter note, I am happy you reached safely. Don't forget to check in with me occasionally, okay?"
"Okay." Alice cleared her throat. "Thanks Marsh, for all your help."
"You are paying me to do your stuff here," Marsha said, laughing. She then sobered up. "Don't mention it girl. I got your back. Wish I could be there to offer you some moral support, hand you a tissue while you cry and sip a pina colada at the same time."
Alice chuckled. "Only you, Marsh. Only you. Talk to you later."
She hung up the phone and closed her eyes. Maybe she would try to contact Carson another day. She felt too vulnerable right now. Besides, she had no idea what she would say to him.
Somebody came and sat beside her lounge chair. She cracked her eyes open and saw that it was a white guy with sandy, blond hair, extremely tanned skin, and gray-blue eyes. He seemed to be in his mid-thirties and was not bad looking. Their eyes collided.
"Hey!" he said. He was a talker.
Alice almost scowled but she gave him a half smile. "Hey."
"Where are you from?" He asked.
Alice sighed.
"Where is that?" he insisted, while he adjusted his chair, bringing it closer to hers.
"Would you believe it," Alice said lazily, "I am from around these parts. I've been away for ten years."
"Me too." he said ruefully.
"You too?" Alice looked at him incredulously.
"Yup." He grinned, "I am here to rid myself of some real estate. My name is Herb. He looked at her, his eyes gleaming in his tanned face. "What's yours?"
"Alice." She moved around restlessly in her chair. She was not going to be wasting time lounging around and chatting up handsome strangers.
She inhaled deeply and got up. "I have to run, I am going to get ready to see my husband today."
Herb shook his head and twisted his lips in disappointment. "You are married?"
Not for much longer. Alice thought. She grabbed her towel, waved to him, and headed to her room.
She had to do it. She had to see Carson. Maybe she would call the business first. She grabbed a directory, looked for Carbell in the yellow pages and took a deep breath while dialing the number, only exhaling when a chirpy, girly voice answered.
"May I speak to Carson Bell?" she asked the person on the phone.
"May I say who is calling?" the girl asked.
"Tell him it’s Alice."
"Alice what?" the girl asked almost tensely.
Alice almost laughed. "He'll know who it is." She was getting impatient with the girl on the line.
"I don't want you calling my Dad!" the girl said almost tearfully.
Alice almost dropped the phone. It slipped out of her fingers but she caught it quickly. "Mia?"
Why was it that when she thought of Mia, she always thought of her as a baby? Here she was on the phone. She sounded so mature and grown up. Twelve years had flown by so fast. Alice remembered how she would stare at Mia when she was a baby and she wished that she could feel something now, anything.
She heard a fumbling on the line and then Carson's voice. "Hello," his voice sounded the same—strong, smooth, and velvety.
"Hi," she said, and then breathlessness overtook her again. There was silence over the phone line. He was stunned and she could tell. When Carson was stunned, he went silent. "It's me," she added when the silence had gone on for far too long. "Can we meet somewhere today?"
Carson cleared his throat. "Alice."
His response was loaded with so many emotions: pain, bitterness, and regret. Alice winced at the realization that his voice carried absolutely no hint of him being happy to hear from her.
"Where are you staying?" Carson asked. He had gained his composure and his voice was back to normal.
"The Apple Motel," Alice responded. Her hands were feeling nervy now, and butterflies were swirling in her stomach.
"I can be there at six," Carson said roughly. "I'll have to find a babysitter."
"I understand," she said. She clutched the phone close to her racing heart and lay on the bed. Maybe she would not move until six. Maybe she would not think until six. His voice had her reminiscing. She closed her eyes.
Chapter Four
December 1994
Usually December was big deal for Alice but she was too distracted by her problems to be excited that her fourteenth birthday was one month away. She now had breasts. The things had just popped up on her chest overnight and her stepfather, Blue, had been the first to notice and followed her around ever since she got them.
Blue's interest in Alice had not escaped Emilia and she was worried. "Maybe I should send you to your Grandmother in Trelawny." Emilia sat on an old pail pan at the back of the house combing Alice's hair. She placed the comb beside her and started to massage rhythmically Alice's scalp with her fingers.
Alice loved when her mother did that. She murmured most contentedly, "But what about school? I like it at Cedar Hill High."
Emilia had just gotten a job at the school. Her life had been on hold for too long. After moving to Montego Bay from the hills of Trelawny to be with Blue, she had rapidly gotten pregnant again, bearing him two children in the last three years. She also had a daughter who was five years old and, of course, Alice, whose father was Guthrie Murray, who was in prison for drug smuggling.
Her life was nowhere near what she had hoped it would be. Most days they could barely find food. Blue was a miser who spent his money on everything but his family. Their two-room house had a bedroom that was just large enough for sleeping and a tiny living room. It was definitely not the ideal dwelling for a girl who was going to be fourteen soon, especially when she had a leering stepfather around.
Alice was young and pretty
with long, thick, curly hair, big brown eyes, generous lips, and a cute nose. To top it off, her daughter's smooth, pimple free fair skin was a draw to other men in the community.
This was not the place for Alice. Emilia wanted more for her girl. She had tried her best to send Alice to every church meeting, anything to get her out of the house and out of Norwood but especially the house. Even when Alice was much younger, she had even allowed her to join the church band and sing with the boys. They had reluctantly allowed her in because she had learned the piano faster than anyone else.
Her girl was smart and pretty and the anxiety that she was feeling grew everyday until it was like a giant rock in the pit of her stomach. Maybe it would have been better if Alice was ordinary looking and had pimply skin and regular hair, and was not so friendly and kind but she was already a man magnet.
"Lord, help her." Emilia said under her breath. "Please, God."
"What are you doing, Mama?" Alice giggled, "Praying?"
"Ah, child," Emilia responded. The young are so unaware of the dangers that surround them and the resulting anxiety that those who are responsible for them feel. She proceeded to plait Alice's hair in two long shiny plaits and twisted it around her head like a crown.
"Can I go on the school trip to the Pantomime in Kingston?" Alice asked, almost defensively. She expected a No. The cost was a hundred dollars for bus fare and food, and she knew that her mother did not have that kind of money.
Emilia grunted.
"Please, Mama!" Alice pleaded. "It will be something to go to Kingston and to see the Pantomime. Please!"
Emilia finished her hair in silence and then Alice got up hunching her shoulders. "Sorry I asked."
"No." Emilia said getting up and stretching. "You are not sorry. You want to go and there is nothing wrong with that. I would love to go to Kingston myself. Delores said that her boys want to go as well. Why don't you children put on a concert or something to raise funds?"
Alice looked at her mother, a light in her eye. "If we raise the money, can I go?"
"Most definitely." Emilia smiled at her daughter. She may be poor but she wanted Alice to have the absolute best whenever she could.
"I have to go find Carson," Alice said excitedly.
Emilia frowned. Whenever Alice spoke about Carson, it was with a certain reverence and her eyes got that dreamy look. It was at the tip of her tongue to caution Alice about Carson but she held back. That boy would never hurt Alice. He was two years older and several years wiser and he had ambition. Though still in high school, he was doing an apprenticeship with Petey, the mechanic. If push came to shove, at least he had a skill.
Emilia released the air she had been holding in and nodded at Alice. "It's Sunday, remember we have church tonight."
*****
Alice did not wait to hear twice. She opened the latch on the zinc fence that separated the yard from the grass track in the hodgepodge community. She swiftly walked toward Carson's place. It was five houses down from hers. His house was bigger than hers. His was a three-room dwelling. It even had a little verandah, and the boards on the house looked newer, being painted in white. Delores had Carson and Xavier paint the place every year. It was a good idea because it preserved the boards. Alice wondered why Blue had not thought of that.
She knocked on the zinc and Carson came out onto the veranda, shirtless. He stretched his wiry, leanly muscled body and looked over the fence at her.
"Hey." he grinned. "Give me a sec." Alice pushed her hand in her skirt pocket and swung slightly, waiting for him to open the gate. He came back wearing a shirt with the words, "Love you like fresh vegetable" on the front. This was a line from a popular Jamaican dancehall song.
"Hey." she said, looking at him shyly.
He was always cute but this year, for some reason, he looked even cuter. His face was taking on that chiseled handsome look and he had shot up in the air and was developing muscles from working at Petey's garage. Already he was popular. The girls at Cedar Hill High, especially the ones who came to church, were constantly asking her about Carson, and what it was like to sing with him. To make matters worse he was super nice, kind, helpful, polite, sweet, and had kissable lips.
She scowled at him.
"What?" Carson asked, confused.
She scowled even more completely, forgetting why she had come over. She pushed past him and walked up the shallow steps to the veranda.
"I made dinner," Carson said, ignoring her standoffish attitude, "Rice and peas and chicken. Want some?"
She nodded. Her mother had fixed mackerel and white rice and she had given her little sister most of hers because Friya still looked hungry after eating hers. Carson went inside, shared some food on a pink plastic plate and handed it to her.
"Thanks," Alice said, feeling ungrateful. He was being kind and she was being churlish for no reason. Carson could not help being himself and girls would always like him. She wondered who he liked. He never spoke about any girl, even when his friends in the band were giggling about some girl or the other, Carson would not say a word.
He was going to graduate from high school next year and then move on to trade school where he would do automotive technician training. That was his first love; that was what he always talked about: cars and engines. When he was not talking about cars, he talked about music and singing.
She bit into the chicken and almost moaned because of how good it tasted. That was something else Carson was good at—cooking. He and Xavier had to take care of the house while their mother worked at the Knight's house.
"So, what's up?" Carson asked when she finished eating and started chewing the already chewed chicken bones that were on her plate.
She looked at the plate sheepishly. He had sat there and watched her, not saying a word until she started on the bones again. "Can the band do a fund raiser so that I can go to the Pantomime?" she asked, batting her eyelashes at him.
Carson laughed and took the plate from her. "Come wash your hands and your mouth. You shouldn't bat your eyelashes at a guy like that when you have grease on your mouth, you know."
She followed him outside to a concrete area where there was a standpipe. He handed her a piece of soap. She stood beside the pipe, washed her mouth and then her hands. He handed her a white towel that looked as if it was once blue.
Xavier popped his head through the door. "They are playing Luther Vandross. Come quick, Carson. Hi, Alice." He waved to her and she waved back.
Xavier was older than Carson but he was also quieter and unassuming. Carson said that Xavier was the brain and he was the brawn. Carson was extremely protective of Xavier because of his severely crossed eyes. Through the years, he had gotten into many fights with people who had teased Xavier. The fights had gotten less frequent as the years went by and now that Xavier had graduated from high school and was doing computer courses at the community college. Carson had no need to fight on his brother's behalf anymore.
Despite Xavier's vision problems, he played the guitar in the band and was quite good at it. Pastor Keen had even allowed him to take home an old guitar to practice on, and now Xavier was the best guitarist in the band.
When Alice followed Carson to their bedroom, she saw Xavier propped up on one of the two single beds with a sheet of paper and a pen in hand. He was writing down the lyrics to the songs he was listening to on the radio. She had to wait until the song was finished before she could speak. That was how they got the lyrics to songs. They waited until their favorite songs were playing on the radio and then someone would whip out some paper and write down the lyrics in short hand. After that, they would sit down and decipher what was written. Sometimes they would get some words wrong but not too many.
She sat on Carson's bed. His corner of the room was so painstakingly neat that she almost did not want to ruffle his sheet.
"Alice wants us to have a fund raising concert," Carson said. "She wants to go to the Pantomime."
Xavier took off his glasses and rubbed it clean, n
odding vigorously as he cleaned them. "That's a good idea, a very good idea. We could raise the funds and then split it up among us. There are a few things that I would want to do too."
Carson looked at Alice, his eyebrows raised. "So princess, the ball is in your court. Organize it. Anything you tell us to do, we'll do."
Alice blushed. He was looking at her admiringly. "Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked uncomfortably.
"Because you are pretty, duh!" Xavier said, grinning. "But you are a little girl. Carson likes a little girl."
Alice felt pleased and indignant at the same time. "I am not a little girl!" she growled at Xavier, "I'll be fourteen in one month."
She looked at Carson again, and then looked away, swallowing. He was grinning as well. Did he really like her or was Xavier joking around?
Carson touched her hand. "Hey," he said softly. "Don't be in such a hurry to grow up, okay? I'll always be around, your loyal subject waiting for you to grow up."
"Awww," Xavier said, "How 'rose-mantic.'"
"Shut up!" Carson threw a pillow at him. They horsed around, throwing insults at each other, until they heard a bike horn tooting outside.
"It's the ice cream man," Carson said, getting up. "Come. Let me get you an ice cream, princess. You know, you do look like a princess with your hair like that," he said, shaking a dollar out of his piggy bank, "A very good looking princess."
"Princess Alice of Norwood." Xavier intoned mockingly. "You know, it actually sounds legit. Like Norwood is a kingdom of some sort." He chuckled. "Will Prince Carson of the house of Delores kindly get me an ice cream cone too?"
"Sure," Carson said sarcastically, "but you need to come for it. Princes don't serve their brothers in bed."
*****
It did not take Alice long to come up with a plan for her Boxing Day fundraiser. She discussed it with the band. She shyly approached Pastor Keen with her plan and was heartily, given the go ahead to use the church hall as a venue.
Going Solo (New Song) Page 3