"Care to elaborate?" Carson asked with mirth in his eyes.
"No, not tonight," Alice said. "I am going back to my motel."
"Now that you know where I live, when are you coming back to take advantage of me?" Carson asked.
"I don't know," Alice said, pushing her feet in her slippers. She was reluctant to leave and Carson could read it in her body language.
"Stay," he said softly.
Alice shook her head and took up her handbag.
Carson got up and shrugged into a robe.
"You work out, don't you?" Alice looked at him in admiring appraisal.
"Yes," Carson grinned, "the guys and I workout at Aaron's house, well, all the guys except for Jayce."
"He has gotten huge," Alice said. "I saw him the other day at the hip strip."
"He told us," Carson said.
"So the whole band knows I am back?" Alice asked.
"Yes," Carson said, "even Xavier knows, and he is living in the States."
"Maybe I should come by and say hi," Alice said. "They were my friends, especially Aaron."
Carson looked at her sideways. "Say hi to Mia first. She's family."
"She's your family." Alice chewed her lips and then sighed. "Okay, I will say hi to her first."
While she was driving back to the motel, she realized that she felt lighter. It had just sunken in as she wound down her window and the breeze whipped her hair about that her heart was dancing, almost as freely as her hair.
She felt somehow comforted at the news that Pastor Keen was an invalid. She sat in her car and cried because she felt such deep relief. She had spent the last ten years wondering if there would ever be any justice for her and it finally seemed that God had done his part.
She inhaled. She did not feel as fearful anymore. Maybe it was time to face Mia.
Chapter Ten
May 1997
Alice stepped into her cramped yard, almost brushing her school uniform on the car that was parked directly in front of the zinc gate. It was Pastor Keen's car and she wondered what he was doing at her house again. It was the third time in as many months that he had come visiting. Her mother was ill with a stomach bug and had asked the church for prayer two months ago but she was better now.
Alice stepped into the house. It was just a short distance from the dusty track to the zinc fence of her house. Blue was sitting outside on a dusty pan smoking a cigarette. He ignored her and she did likewise. They had been at odds since Carson had warned him to leave her alone. He barely mumbled anything to her these days and she liked it that way. If they never spoke again, she would be fine.
Her eyes adjusted to the dark interior when she entered the cramped little hall space where she and her siblings slept in sleeping bags in the nights. It was now serving as a living room; the sleeping bags were neatly stacked in a corner. Her mother had taken out the four white plastic chairs that she always stacked on each other in the corner and had arranged them in a circle. She had even shined the red stained floor to a glossy looking sheen. She must have known that the pastor was coming over because the circular white table was covered with a tablecloth that had grape patterns, and a plastic jug with lemonade was sitting on top of it.
The pastor was holding one of their better-looking plastic cups in his hands and Alice looked from him to her mother. "Good evening," she said sullenly. These days she could not look Pastor Keen in the face. Didn't anybody else see the sexual interest that he was showing her? She had told Carson about it but even he did not believe her. In her humble opinion, Pastor Keen was a hypocrite - a creepy, slimy hypocrite that her mother and the other church people held in high regard. On one hand, he was so good with people, and on the other, he had a serious problem.
She looked at his fair skin and his curly black hair that had a little gray sprinkled in it. He had the bearing of someone who was well learned. Some people would assume he was a doctor because he was always wearing one of those bush jackets that the late Michael Manley, a former prime minister of Jamaica, had made popular in the 70s. Come to think of it, he had a Michael Manley Look about him.
He adjusted his glasses and once more, she wondered when she had actually come to loathe him as much as she did now. It was way back from she was fourteen or so. Little by little, he had slowly changed toward her, giving her long leering looks and finding excuses to talk to her whenever he could.
"Have a seat Alice," Emilia said, pointing at the chair nearest to Pastor Keen. She put down her knapsack in the corner and sat in the chair nearest to her mother, pulling it even closer to her and further from Pastor Keen. Her mother looked at her mulish expression and realized that she was blatantly distancing herself from the pastor and sighed.
"Pastor Keen has gotten a job for you already, knowing that you are going to graduate this year." There was a warning in her mother's tone: be grateful or else.
"A job?" Alice said, heeding the warning tone and trying to look interested.
"Yes," Pastor Keen said, in his gentle, refined, overly controlled, pastoral voice. "I have finally gotten the go ahead from the board to hire a full-time church secretary. I know you did business courses in high school and that you are a great organizer. Remember that time when you arranged the fundraiser because you wanted to go to the Pantomime? I have since then admired your skills. You are a young person who has potential. The job is available at the start of the summer, June 1."
Alice stopped herself from snorting. She just nodded instead. The dutiful, dirt-poor girl should be grateful after all. The respected church pastor had magnanimously thought of her and was offering her a job because she had potential.
"Say something," Emilia hissed, almost pushing Alice's stiff unyielding body from the chair with a poke.
"I don't…" She inhaled and rubbed where her mother had poked her, "know what to say." She smiled at him insincerely, hoping that the cold distrust that she felt for him could be seen shining from her eyes.
"A thank you is all I need," Pastor Keen said helpfully. "I am always on the look out for my younger members. How is Carson by the way? You two still going strong? I have barely seen him since he took the full-time job at Petey's."
"He's great," Alice said defiantly. I love him, she wanted to add, so stop looking at me like a hungry bear, you sicko!
"That's good to hear," Pastor Keen said smiling at her. "Carson is an exceptional young man. He has always been."
Alice almost growled. Hostility must have been rolling off her in waves because her mother fiercely pinched her again. She was almost regretful that she had placed her chair so close to hers.
"Alice is very grateful for your consideration, Pastor, and so am I. It is truly a blessing."
They chitchatted some more, with Alice sitting there mutinously and wondering why she did not think this particular job offer was a blessing. The pastor's shiny new car had barely pulled away from the gate when her mother turned on her. "Alice, why are you acting like that? Do you know what an opportunity this is? You ungrateful girl! Pastor Keen is a true Christian, and he's always looking out for us."
Blue snorted, he was still sitting in the same place, smoking his marijuana. Little tendrils of smoke escaped his nostrils. He turned blood shot eyes on them. "I don't like him."
For the first time in Alice's life, she actually agreed with Blue. "I don't mean to be ungrateful," she said to her mother.
"Well, don't be. This is your opportunity to get out of here. The pay is not too bad especially for a person who is just leaving high school. I mean you could even still do some courses at the community college and then move on to something else."
"Education is for fools!" Blue puffed out rings of smoke.
"Is that why you are not even trying to send your children to school?" Emilia asked, turning on him. "It's only by the grace of God that they are even performing well at school because most mornings they go to school hungry. I work hard and some days I can barely find a dollar to send them to school, and you are here working
and yet you are not supporting them. Friya needs school shoes. I had to paste cardboard on the soles of her last pair so she could wear it to school. She has to come home barefooted if it rains."
Alice slipped back into the house, took her clothes out of a box in the corner, and went to the outside bathroom. She had a sense of foreboding the whole time she was thinking about the job.
Her mother’s argument with Blue had escalated into a shouting match. She could hear Blue raising a storm, using some choice Jamaican cuss words, as usual defending himself from the indefensible. At least Alice knew where he was and that he would be occupied with the quarrel for a while and would not come around to where she was bathing and try to get a glimpse of her through the makeshift zinc shower stall.
She wondered why she had this lot in life. She was always skipping one land mine after another. At church, there was Pastor Keen and at home, there was Blue. At least the guys in the community knew that she was Carson's girl and did not bother her or whistled at her when she passed anymore.
Her landmines were closest where she was supposed to feel safe. She wished she could feel happier about that stupid job but the fact that she was going to be working closely with Pastor Keen was not comforting. She tried to look at the bright side like her mother but she was coming up with trumps—nothing, nada. Even with the prospect of earning some money, she felt a foreboding so pressing that she was almost shaking with it.
Chapter Eleven
Alice spent the Sabbath reading her Bible and listening to sermons. She had no intention of going to any church. The Jamaican church community was quite small. Word would get around and tongues would start wagging.
Remember that girl, Alice? She got pregnant at seventeen and had to marry her boyfriend, Carson Bell. Remember Carson? He's the really handsome lead singer for the New Song Band. Remember how she almost committed suicide and they had to admit her to Ward 21 at the Cornwall Regional Hospital? That's Alice. Oh and don't forget she abandoned her daughter, little Mia, for ten whole years. What kind of a mother is she?
Alice sighed. She realized that she was actually feeling distressed over imaginary conversations. She bathed and stood in the bathroom with the towel wrapped around her and brushed out her hair. She moved closer to the mirror and looked at herself. She was glowing. Her skin was smooth and had a dewy look. Her eyes had a little sparkle in them, and she looked surprisingly happy even though she was feeling apprehensive and fearful.
Of course, Carson was the reason she was glowing. He was the only one who always managed to bring her back from the brink. He was her healer. She pulled on a green shirt-dress and grabbed her handbag. She was ready to meet Mia. She had concluded that she had to, at least, try to get to know her, maybe not as a mother—she had forfeited all rights to that—but as a friend. That should not be too hard.
She was almost at the entrance to the community where Carson lived. She had not called but she was hoping that he would be home and not at church. She knew that back in the day, a big part of fellowship happened in the nights when church was over and persons would stand around in groups talking with each other. Some persons would even start some cooking in the church kitchen and various games would start up, usually dominoes. Some person's did not leave the Cedar Hill Church grounds until after midnight. To be honest, she missed that sort of camaraderie. It was a good way to really get to know fellow church members, when everyone's hair was down, so to speak.
She suddenly felt lonely and had a longing for the old church days. It crept upon her: the memories of church socials with the young people, playing ring games, participating in bun eating contests, and having such a good time that non-church goers would be envious.
She also remembered their Pathfinder Club, their version of boy scouts and girl guides. They would frequently go stargazing and hiking in the Cornwall Mountains, do wilderness survival training in the Trelawny Hills, and have beach days most Sundays. Those days were fun and she was almost surprised that she remembered. She hoped Mia had something like that too; it should add some richness to her childhood memories, something to plug the ten years her mother left empty.
A toot of a car horn had her looking in the rearview mirror. It was Carson. He was in a tinted SUV. He rolled down the windows and looked at her, his eyebrows raised. He looked suave and urbane in his suit. She drank him in. He must have been shocked to see her there. She waved at him and started her car, following his into his driveway. He got out of the vehicle and came to her side of the car.
"Hey." he looked at her searchingly. "You didn't call."
"I know. I just decided that today is the day I would try to get to know Mia as a friend."
Carson frowned at her. "Alice, remember if you are going to be in her life any at all, it has to be for the long haul."
Alice nodded. Carson was looking at her so seriously she felt as if she were being tried for a crime. He stood at the door and searched her face for so long that she felt like squirming. He finally moved away. There was no mistaking that if she hurt Mia, she would feel the wrath of Carson. She got the message loud and clear without him saying a word. She felt a little twinge of jealousy. She wished she had had a father like Carson when she was growing up.
When the front passenger-side car door opened, she saw a pair of long legs outfitted in the cutest red shoes accented with little bows. A slim little girl in a red polka dot dress emerged. She had a matching handbag in her hand. She slammed the car door and looked towards the car. For the first time, Alice saw her face to face: her daughter, the child she did not want.
For a moment, Mia stood beside Carson but eventually she started to walk slowly toward Alice. Alice tried to take in as much of her features as the half-light would allow. She was an exceptionally pretty child: triangular face, a little bow lip, big solemn hazel eyes. Her thick, curly hair was wound around her head like a crown—that must have been Carson's doing. When Alice was younger, he liked it when her hair was in that style.
Mia stopped a few feet from her and held out her hand. Alice held out hers too and they shook hands with more cordiality than reserve. Mia’s hand felt thin and fragile.
"I am Alice," she said to Mia. Her voice was hoarse.
Mia nodded. Her big eyes were eating her up like she expected her to disappear and Alice felt a tinge of warmth toward her. She was a lovely child.
"Let's go inside," Carson said, intruding on their frozen tableau.
Mia spun around and skipped along to the front door, taking out her keys from her handbag and opening the door.
"Would you like me to show you around?" she asked shyly.
Alice swallowed. "Sure."
"This is the living room," Mia said, pointing to the place Alice had barely taken in before Carson had led her upstairs two days ago. "Daddy and Uncle Ian did the tiling for the whole house, with my help of course." Mia said proudly.
Alice nodded. "It looks professionally done."
"Ian is the best contractor around these parts." Carson said. "Between us we did most of the work."
Mia led her into the kitchen. "I chose the finishes for everywhere. Daddy said I could have cart branch."
"Carte blanche." Carson said from the doorway. He had silently followed them.
Alice spun around and looked at him. She could scarcely believe that she was here in his house getting a tour from Mia. She looked around the large, professionally done kitchen with the large glass windows where the breakfast nook was and silently doubted that Mia had chosen all the finishes.
"Yes, she did." Carson said, as if reading her mind. "Muffin has an eye for color and detail that amazed us all when we were choosing finishes for the house. She was just eight at the time."
"I looked in a lot of Aunt Melody's interior decorating magazines," Mia said brightly. She was looking more relaxed as her father joined the conversation.
"Aunty Ruby said that when they finish their house she wants me as her interior decorator."
"She'll have to pay you." Carso
n mocked with a serious expression.
Mia giggled. "Do you want to see upstairs?" Mia enquired. She gestured with her hand and Alice stared at her for the longest while. She then nodded.
She realized that Mia was in her element. She carried her from room to room and after every sentence was "Daddy said...Daddy this...Daddy that". Obviously, she loved her father and he was the center of her world.
Alice realized that subtly Mia was telling her that they were a team. Maybe the child was a little psychologist because she was also detecting an exclusionary tone from her: We don't want you to come and mess it up was the message, and Alice heard it loud and clear.
When they reached Mia's room, which was done in a jungle theme, she was convinced that Mia had not suffered one bit from her absence.
She was a confident child who had a father who listened to her and gave her the tools to be extraordinary. Maybe having a troubled mother would have messed her up. Alice remembered the days when Mia was little and she would hear her crying but did nothing to help. Delores was the one who had to come home and feed and change the baby or Carson would come home at lunchtime just to check on them and feed Mia and give her some attention. Those were some dark days for her.
"Would you like some supper?" Carson asked Alice after Mia had exhausted all the rooms of the house.
"Sure." Alice said, even though she was suffering from a mass of mixed feelings and a strange sensation of inadequacy. She did not know if she could force down any food.
"What's on the menu tonight, Mia?" Carson asked as they headed back to the kitchen.
"I was thinking pizza" Mia said, "but I am going to change first." She looked at Alice uncertainly; as if she did not want her out of her sight.
"I'll be downstairs waiting." Alice felt compelled to say and then she saw Mia’s little shoulders relax.
Alice followed Carson to the kitchen. He had taken off his jacket upstairs. Now he was rolling up his sleeves.
"I usually do the base," he said to Alice taking out the flour, "and then Mia does the rest. Saturday night is her night to do her culinary thing."
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