Hot Summer

by Judy Powell

  They walked along the dirt path to the back of the house just in time to see a small boy, no older than eleven years old, holding a chicken down on the ground with a metal basin covering its body, its head and neck exposed. The chicken was flapping violently under the basin and squawking wildly.

  He had a large knife in his hand and was just about to swing it down onto the bird’s neck when Summer screamed.

  “Stop!. Leave the chicken alone!”

  The boy stopped, his eyes wide, then got up from his knees and backed away. Summer ran towards him knowing she must have looked like a mad woman, but she didn’t care. She grabbed the basin off the chicken. It flapped wildly and flew off into the bushes.

  “But what you doing?” the woman exclaimed, indignant. “That was your lunch.”

  “It’s okay,” Summer said, panting. “I don’t need any lunch. I’m fine. Just leave the chicken alone. Please.”

  “Well,” the woman threw up her hands in frustration, “if that’s what you want. But I don’t see how can come into my house and I don’t give you something to eat. The only other thing I can offer you is some soup.”

  “Yes,” Summer said, relieved. “Soup would be fine.”

  “Alright.” She turned to the boy. “Orville, go light the fire under the pot with the goathead soup. Quick, quick.” She turned to Summer. “It won’t take long. Just ten minutes to heat it up.”

  “Goathead…soup?” Summer asked, feeling her stomach go queasy. “Ah, thank you, but it’s okay. I’m really not hungry.”

  “Not even a little of the soup?” The woman almost looked offended.

  “Mrs. Kitson, I thank you so much for your offer,” Summer said quickly in an effort to appease her, “but I’m fine.”

  “Alright, mam,” she sighed. “You are a strange one to come to somebody’s house and want to go away on an empty stomach but, if that is what you want…” She put her hands up as if in resignation.

  Derrick smiled and put his arm around the woman’s shoulders.

  “Mrs. Kitson, it’s okay. We’re in a hurry right now, but next time we pass through we’ll stop and eat. Promise.”

  The woman nodded and beckoned to them to follow her into the house. They entered through a tiny kitchen and into a living room cum dining room. There was a dining table with a floral table cloth and a bowl of plastic fruits on top. A kerosene lamp sat by the fruit bowl although it was obvious that they had electricity. A television was on and a soccer match was in progress. Mrs. Kitson ushered them over to a big red couch and as they sat she pulled a chair from around the dining table.

  “Okay, Mrs. Kitson,” Summer said, “I’d like to get started right away, seeing that we have so little time. Can you tell me about Courtney, what he was like as a child?”

  “Well, that boy, you see, from baby stage until he was in primary school coming up, he was a stubborn little boy. And rude!” She opened her eyes wide. “The boy used to give a lot of trouble but I tell you, he was always so loving. Never, never leave me out at all. You see that TV over there?” She pointed to it. “He buy it for me. Yes, because him want to make sure that when him on TV him mother can see him nice and clear. And him tell me that once things set him want fi buy me a big house on the hill.”

  “That’s admirable. Sounds like you have a wonderful son.”

  “Oh, yes, and talk about being ambitious? That is Courtney. When him was growing up him always used to say, ‘Mama, I going to grow up and have a big job so that I can do things for you’.”

  Summer nodded thoughtfully and scribbled on her notepad. “And what other interests does Courtney have?”

  “Him always love to play cricket but outside of that music is the thing. I know him jus’ start him career but him so hopeful.” She nodded and beamed at Summer. “Yes, as I tell you, him say him want to buy him mother a big house on the hill.”

  “That sounds good, Mrs. K. I’m sure you’d love that,” Derrick said, smiling.

  “But, of course. You think I don’t want a big house to fix up nice-nice? And I know my boy goin’ to make it.”

  “So he loves cricket and music,” Summer prompted. “Anything else?”

  “There is another thing. Outside of the cricket and the music him did want to study engineering. Him get a place at the university in Kingston.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes,” she said, and her face turned sad. “He never get to enter, though. Me couldn’t afford it.” She looked thoughtful then shook her head, “Anyway, when him realize that that was not happening him go full-scale into the music and then him enter the talent competition and God bless him, you can see how him is doing now. One day, one day though, him going to study the engineering. The musical engineer, that’s what him call himself.” She laughed at that.

  They spent another fifteen minutes with Mrs. Kitson then said their goodbyes.

  “You mus’ come back again soon, me dear.” The older woman gave Summer a hug. “You is a sweet child and I know you goin’ to write some nice things about me son.”

  Summer smiled and they all three walked to the vehicle.

  “Drive safe, now, you hear?”

  “Will do, Mrs. K.” Derrick said, and held the door open for Summer.

  As they backed out of the yard Summer waved and the woman blew kisses at them.

  When they left Linstead they drove along yet more winding roads, but this time the scenery was even more beautiful. They were following the path of a long, slow river that Derrick called the Bog Walk Gorge. There was thick foliage all along the way and the water bubbled so serenely by that Summer felt relaxed just watching it.

  Derrick drove the car over a stone bridge which had no walls and Summer learned from him that it had been built in the fifteenth century by the Spanish who had occupied the island before the British.

  When they finally reached the outskirts of Kingston she was tired and hungry but she was satisfied at having made such significant progress in gathering data on Super Cool.

  “Thanks for a wonderful day, Derrick,” she said with a smile.

  He smiled back. “No problem.

  When they arrived at Big Ship Recording Studio Lance and Super Cool were already there. A young woman stood in the voicing booth with headphones over her ears. Lance waved as they approached then continued to give instructions via the mixing board’s built-in microphone.

  “Give me a little more soul. I’m not feeling you on that last line. Let’s hear some real passion, Sharona.”

  The singer nodded then closed her eyes and, obviously understanding what Lance meant, she sang the line with deep feeling. He didn’t hold back the applause.

  Summer went to sit on a leather couch at the back of the small room. Derrick watched the engineer at the mixing board then he, too, joined Summer on the only available seat.

  Summer sat, fascinated, as the engineer worked the board then she turned her attention to the petite girl whose voice filled the room. She leaned over to Derrick. “Is that one of our singers?”

  He shook his head. “No, she’s a local girl I found on my last trip here. Name’s Sharona. She’ll be doing a duet with Super Cool.”

  “Will I be working with her?”

  “No, not right now anyway. If she works out then we’ll see.”

  They remained silent as they watched Sharona. Then Super Cool went into the booth and they spent almost an hour recording lead vocals for their duet.

  Summer touched Derrick’s arm again and leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Why does Lance come all this way to record music? I’m sure we have great studios back home in Chicago.”

  He put his mouth to her ear and whispered back, “It’s the Jamaican vibes. You need that for reggae music. You really can’t get it anywhere else.”

  At that moment Lance turned and fixed them with a hard stare. Derrick never noticed but Summer dropped her eyes guiltily.

  Damn! She frowned, angry at him for choosing that moment to turn and look at them but even angrier
at herself for feeling guilty when she was totally innocent. Who was he to be looking at her like that, anyway? He was the one who had sneaked off to see his woman.

  Summer raised her eyes and boldly returned his stare. Then as he watched she curved her lips into a smile and turned her face to Derrick’s whispering mouth. She pressed her lips against his and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. Their contact was brief but when she glanced back and saw the dark look on Lance’s face she knew she had achieved her goal.

  Derrick sat back and looked at her in confusion then a slow smile spread across his face. She looked back at him but offered no smile in return. He didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he leaned over to her again, smiling confidently, and whispered, “I knew you’d come around. You just can’t fight this thing between us.”

  Summer looked away quickly and her eyes suddenly stung with unshed tears. She felt sick inside. What had she done? With that one impulsive act she could have set wheels in motion that could force her into a very uncomfortable position. She could end up hurting not one, but three people with her stupid act.

  She glanced back at Lance, wanting to tell him it was all a lie, she’d only faked it to get back at him. But it was too late. He had already turned away from them and was talking to the engineer. His rigid back was the only clue to the extent of his anger.

  The rest of the evening was sheer torture for her. Despite the presence of others Summer was so aware of Lance that her breath was tight in her chest. Her nipples hardened of their own volition and she struggled not to rub them to ease the tingling. It was as if this new tension between them had set her nerves on edge. Every inch of her ached for him.

  When the session finally ended and Lance walked out with the singer Summer slumped back into the sofa and sighed in relief.

  “Are you okay, honey?” She opened her eyes to see Derrick standing over her, a look of concern on his face.

  “Yes, Derrick, I’m fine.” There was a hint of resignation in her tone but she made no effort to sound cheerful. Derrick stroked her arm but she just sat there, eyes closed, not saying a word.

  “It’s time to go.”

  It was only when he put his arm around her shoulders that she responded by leaning heavily against him and rising to her feet.

  “You’re tired.” He kissed her gently on the forehead. “Let’s get you to bed.”

  They went outside and Summer was surprised when Lance waved them over to where he was piling boxes of CD’s into the back of his Land Rover. As they approached he slammed the back door and turned to them.

  “I’ve told the others already,” he said, ‘but since neither one of you was here, let me repeat myself. I’m inviting the entire group to dinner tonight at the Blue Mountain Restaurant. We’re to meet at eight.” He looked at Lance. “You know where it is, right?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been there before.” Derrick nodded. “The food there’s pretty good-”

  “Hey, Derrick.” A yell interrupted him. It was the music engineer, Jerry, who had just exited the studio and was heading for his red Toyota Celica. “Somebody left a pair of sunglasses on the couch. They kinda look like yours. You missing one?”

  Derrick patted his breast pocket and yelled back, “Thanks, man.”

  “I’ll be right back,” he said then dashed off, leaving Lance and Summer standing silent, staring at each other.

  Summer eyed Lance warily then said, “I won’t be at the dinner tonight.”

  “Excuse me?” He frowned.

  “You heard me,” she said stonily. “I’m not in the mood to go out tonight so count me out.”

  “May I remind you, Miss Jones, that you’re on a business trip and as such your time is mine.” His voice was cool. “I expect you to be at the restaurant on time. What you do after we leave there is your own business.”

  She frowned at him. The way he’d said the last remark made her feel cheap and dirty and she hated it that his opinion even mattered at all.

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?” Her nostrils flared and she made no attempt to hide her anger.

  “You can take that any way you want,” he grated. “Just don’t let me have to come get you for dinner. I can assure you, you would not like the consequences.”

  “Are you threatening me?” She drew herself up to her full height and glared up at him.

  “Let’s just say I’m making my position clear.”

  “It’s clear, alright,” Summer sneered. “It’s clear that all I am to you is a damned employee, nothing more. Don’t worry, I know your policy on not fraternizing with employees. I know my place.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You told Derrick that he should stay away from me because ‘management’ shouldn’ t fraternize with employees.” When he hesitated she growled, “Don’t you dare deny it.”

  “You idiot,” he rubbed his brow as he looked down at her, “I only said that to Derrick because…” He stopped and then his face turned hard again. “That doesn’t matter now. You’re obviously better able to take care of yourself than I thought.”

  Disgust was plain on his face and she lashed out at him, wanting to hurt him as much as he’d hurt her.

  “Yes, I am. I also know a real man when I see one.”

  Lance looked like she’d slapped him in the face. Good, she thought, let him suffer. She pressed on. “That’s right, a man who isn’t just trying to get into my pants.”

  A cloud of rage darkened Lance’s face and Summer took a step back involuntarily, her eyes wide. Had she gone too far? Damn this temper of hers. It just wouldn’t let her stop.

  Before she could move any farther he grasped her upper arm, halting her flight. “Don’t you ever speak to me like that again.” The words were so laced with anger that Summer trembled inside. But she would never show fear. Instead she glared back at him until he let her go. Without another word he jumped into the vehicle and sped away.

  14

  To Summer’s surprise the dinner turned out to be quite pleasant. It was Monisha’s birthday and Lance had organized special service for their table. A violinist played the happy birthday song for Monisha then after a delicious meal a huge birthday cake was brought out. The woman almost looked teary eyed. Summer could hardly believe this softer side of her.

  By the time they got back to the hotel it was after eleven o’clock and she felt drained. They said their goodnights in the lobby and she headed straight for the elevator. She had a feeling Lance was watching her but she was too tired to even care.

  When she got to her room she lay back on the bed and threw an arm over her eyes. It took ten minutes of quiet before she felt ready to head for the shower. She lifted her arm and blinked to clear her eyes.

  It was then that she noticed the message light blinking on her telephone. Strange, she thought. She wasn’t expecting any calls. She groaned as she rolled over and picked up the receiver then pressed the button. When she heard the voice of Doctor Jabez, her mother’s primary physician, she sat up straight, heart pounding.

  It was bad news about her mother. She’d had a stroke and was at the hospital. Summer trembled as she listened to the entire message.

  When it was over she quickly dialed the number for the hospital and waited with bated breath. She didn’t get the doctor but the nurse on duty told her that her mother had passed the worst and was resting peacefully. She advised Summer that it would be best not to wake her.

  When she’d hung up she sat on the edge of the bed, twisting her hand in her lap. The guilt was heavy on her heart. She should never have left Chicago. She had to go back right away.

  She grabbed her room key and without stopping to call she dashed down the hallway to Lance’s room. She rapped urgently at the door until she heard the sound of the lock being opened.

  Lance stood before her in nothing but a white bath towel draped around his waist.

  “What do you want now?” he demanded with a frown. “Another pound of my flesh?”

  Be
fore he could go on she blurted out, “I have to go back to Chicago. My mother’s in the hospital.”

  “What?” He froze for an instant then grabbed her arm and pulled her into the room. He pressed her down gently to sit on the edge of his bed then looked at her, concern written all over his face. “When did you get this news?”

  “Just a little while ago. They’d left me a voice message to call the hospital.” She looked up at Lance with pleading eyes. “I have to go back, Lance. My mother needs me.”

  “I’ll get you out of here as soon as possible. Just hang on.” He pulled open a drawer and took out a pair of boxer shorts then grabbed a pair of jeans from the closet.

  “Give me just a second,” he said and went into the bathroom. He returned less than a minute later, shirtless and barefoot but wearing jeans.

  He stood in front of her for a moment and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Then he spoke. “We’ll go out to the airport by four o’clock. We’ll try to get you on the Air Jamaica flight that leaves at six in the morning. You’ll have to make a connection in Miami but you should touch down in Chicago by at about one in the afternoon.

  He rested a hand gently on her shoulder. “You need some rest. Let me walk you to your room.”

  She rested her hand on top of his and looked up at him. “Thank you, Lance.” Her voice cracked and he put a finger to her lips.

  “Hush. It’s okay.”

  He went over to the closet, pulled down a shirt and slipped his feet into sandals. He tucked his key into his pocket. “I’ll come get you at three-thirty,” he said and went to put his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go.”

  When Lance knocked on her door at the appointed time Summer was packed and ready to go. The trip to the airport took less than thirty minutes and she was only the second person in line. After she had checked in Lance took her arm and led her to a row of seats nearby.