Here Comes the Sun

by Nicole Dennis-Benn

  “Suppose him did really want yuh. Could you really love somebody who is an absolute fool when it come on to these t’ings? Somebody who green? Yuh wouldn’t want dat, an’ neither would he. Yuh giving him everything fah free. Boys like chupid girls like dat. Dey tek one look at yuh black face an’ know yuh desperate enough fi spread yuh legs at di first compliment. Dey see yuh true color before yuh tell dem yuh name. Dey know dey can tell yuh anyt’ing an’ yuh black self believe it an’ accept it, ’caw we so use to getting di leftovers. Who yuh know really love a black girl for more than what’s between her legs? Yuh is a pretty black girl, but is my duty as yuh mother to teach yuh dese t’ings. Put somet’ing in yuh head. Chile, yuh know how much yuh coulda get? Ten thousand U.S. dollahs! Dat can tek yuh from here to eternity, pay fah yuh education an’ everyt’ing. Use yuh head, chile. Yuh can’t place more value on dis boy an’ his foolish love over money. If it mean so likkle to you, then you’ll lose everyt’ing. ’Membah dis, nobody love a black girl. Not even harself. Now get up an’ guh get yuh pay.”

  31

  THANDI GOES OUT TO THE BEACH, WHERE THE BOATS ARE TIED. Asafa’s boat is the brightest one, painted in red, yellow, and green. Over the years it has suffered some wear and tear, rusting on the sides. The letter A is missing from Asafa’s name. Thandi makes her way to the boat and climbs inside. She sits on the rear wooden seat. By her foot is a white pail that she imagines Asafa used to store the lobsters he caught. From where she sits Thandi looks out at the ocean glistening in the sunset. This must be what Charles sees when he’s out here alone. The waves are gentle, rising and falling like breath moving through a living body. The sea is liquid gold as the sun dips on the horizon. One by one the nocturnal insects hidden in trees inside the cove start to sing. The waves get louder in the presence of the new moon. They crash to the shore, their urgency driven by an invisible force. Thandi lies on her back inside the boat and listens to them. They speak to something stirring within her, something raging within her. The water rises and rises until it blurs her vision of the dotted stars above. It trembles at the corners of her eyes, then rolls down her cheeks.

  “What color is di sky now?”

  Thandi jumps when she hears his voice. She wonders if she’s imagining it. But when she blinks, he’s still there. She leaps up from the boat and into his arms, breathing in the familiar pawpaw musk mixed with smells of weed and sweat. His face is pressed into her neck. And Thandi thinks she feels something warm and wet. When she pulls back, she wipes his face with her fingers. “If yuh t’ink it blue, look again,” he says. But Thandi is not interested in looking anywhere but at him. She flings her arms around his neck and kisses him. Charles climbs into the boat and they lie together between the seats.

  “Yuh came out here to look fah me?” Charles asks.

  “I missed you. They’re looking for you everywhere.”

  “I leave for Kingston in a couple days. I’m only here to say goodbye to all this.” He inhales deeply as if to take in all the air.

  “Who yuh staying wid now?”

  “Jullette.”

  “Jus’ be careful.”

  “I didn’t mean fi kill him.”

  “We don’t really know if is you cause it. It could be anything. Don’t be so hard on yuhself.”

  He cups her chin. “It was my fault. I’ll accept di responsibility.”

  “I want to come with you.”

  “Yuh can’t come wid me.”

  “How will we stay in touch?”

  “I will find a way.”

  Thandi relaxes into him. She meets his passion with equal fervor, allowing this heat to take over, spread throughout her limbs, her core. The night forms a protective cloak around them. Their bodies move inside the boat like seals trapped inside a net, fighting to free themselves. The agony, the terror, the surrender.

  Charles helps her out of the boat. He kisses her one last time before he departs. Thandi holds on to his hand. “I want to come with you,” she says again.

  “Not now. I’ll let you know when. Right now it’s not safe.”

  “What about Miss Violet?”

  “Jullette will tek care of her. She moving wid har to St. Elizabeth.”

  Thandi wonders if he knows what Jullette does to make money. That moving out of Montego Bay wouldn’t be good for the type of business she does.

  She grips his arms. “Jus’ take care of yuhself.”

  He kisses her goodbye and leaves her to the sound of the waves crashing.

  32

  MARGOT LEANS BACK IN HER NEW OFFICE. SHE KICKS OFF HER shoes and inhales. Through the partially open louver windows on her left she can see into the hotel lobby, though no one can see her. Right behind her are the beachfront suites where visitors lie flat on their backs and bellies in the bright sun while maids dash in and out of rooms with mops and linens. The walls in the office are decorated with accolades the hotel has won over the years, most of which were acquired during Reginald Senior’s tenure. She’s in charge in the interim as Alphonso still scrambles to replace Miss Novia Scott-Henry. It’s up to her to prove she can do the job, which will also give her practice for the new hotel. She runs her hands along the wide mahogany table where all the paperwork sits in an orderly fashion, stacked and awaiting her signature. Pens and pencils are kept inside a steel cylindrical holder. Important folders are stacked solemnly inside a drawer at her feet. Margot brings her cheek to the surface of the table.

  She breathes, carefully exhaling into the open room, afraid to disturb the silence. Her lipstick leaves a mark that she quickly wipes clean. She swirls around in her adjustable chair a few times, glad that no one can see her. Happiness feels like an office with good air-conditioning, a chair that adjusts to her back as though it is made for her, a mahogany desk with her name on it, a better view of the beach, the ability to slip out of her shoes and wiggle her toes, and a door she can keep locked. She can’t believe that Miss Novia Scott-Henry had all this to herself yet chose to leave the door wide open. Margot will only respond to visitors who call in first through Kensington.

  So when Sweetness barges in unannounced, Margot nearly falls out of her chair. She scrambles to slide her feet back inside her shoes and sit up straight. “Who let you in?” Margot asks the girl.

  “It doesn’t mattah now. Yuh secretary out there reading har Bible.”

  Margot fights the urge to ask the girl to retrace her steps so that she can be announced the right way, but stops herself. Sweetness’s eyes are red. Margot hasn’t seen or heard from her since last week. There were clients who refused to be paired with other girls when Margot told them that Sweetness was unavailable. She has become a client favorite. Margot should be furious with this unannounced visit; but she has never been so happy to see the girl. Though Sweetness looks disheveled, like she has not washed in days. Her hair is matted on her head and she wears no makeup to hide the blemishes on her cheeks. Her blouse and skirt are mismatched, as if she got dressed in the dark.

  Margot leans back in her chair and clasps her hands in front of her.

  “Yuh look like Satan drag yuh through hell,” Margot says to the girl. “Please sit.”

  “Is okay, ah won’t be long,” Sweetness says.

  “We’ve been losing money because of you,” Margot says. “This meeting won’t be determined by you. Sit.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sweetness says, still standing.

  “Sorry?” Margot looks up at her. “Yuh know how much money we coulda mek dis week alone if you were here? ’Membah we have more responsibilities now”

  “I know.”

  “So what’s yuh excuse?”

  “Excuse?”

  “Why haven’t you been to work?”

  “Work?”

  “Sweetness, what’s di mattah wid yuh?”

  “I can’t do dis anymore.”

  “What?”

  Margot gets up from her chair.

  “I can’t work fah yuh no more, boss lady.”

  For the first tim
e since the business started, Margot has never felt so dependent on a girl. Like the men that Sweetness leaves begging for more, Margot is tempted to throw money at the girl. She would throw herself if she has to. What will she do without Sweetness? “What yuh mean, yuh don’t want to work anymore? Why?”

  “Ah have to go, boss lady,” Sweetness says, holding her head down and clutching the raggedy leather purse on her shoulder. “Ah not coming back.” She heads toward the door.

  “Sweetness!”

  The girl stops. Margot hurries around the desk toward her. The girl stands still, trembling. Margot cups her chin. “You know I care about you. You know I’ll do anyt’ing for you.” She draws her face close to Sweetness, who closes her eyes and parts her lips, her sweet, eager breath hot on Margot’s face. She exhales slowly through her mouth, which Margot grazes with her own. “Jus’ stay wid me till the end,” Margot whispers. “You’re my number one girl.”

  She strokes Sweetness’s arm. But Sweetness pulls away.

  “Yuh only care ’bout dat other hotel. You don’t care ’bout me. If yuh did care, you woulda tell Alphonso to call off di reward or I will—”

  “You know di reason why I had to,” Margot says, cutting her off. “Don’t pretend you don’t know.”

  “Unlike you, is blood dat pump through me vein. Not greed.”

  “Sweetness!” Margot reaches for her arm again.

  “Nuh touch me! Either yuh tell Alphonso to change him mind, or I will mek sure to let him know how yuh scheme fi get dis office.”

  Margot folds her arms across her chest. “Yuh t’ink because yuh give good pussy dat you have a voice? Dat yuh is worthy of an opinion? Yuh is nothing but a tar-black country girl wid not even a high school education. A girl wid nothing going for her but har long legs an’ big behind. Yuh t’ink anyone want to hear what yuh have to say? You’ll never talk to di Alphonsos of dis world without being laughed at. To them, you’re a servant. And will always be a servant.”

  “So be it, then,” Sweetness hisses. She walks out of the executive office and slams the door behind her. Margot whips around and with all her might hits the cylindrical pen-and-pencil holder off the desk. It crashes to the floor and rolls out of sight, all the pens and pencils scattered on the immaculate floor.

  33

  THE BULLDOZERS APPEAR OVERNIGHT. THEY STAND IN PLACE like resting mammoths, their blades like curved tusks. It’s as though they landed from the sky or were washed ashore. One by one they begin to knock down trees in the cove and along the river. They also take a chunk of the hill, cutting down the trees that cradle the limestone, which they chip away. Their big engines grind two-thousand-year-old tree trunks—trees the ancestors once hid behind, crouching in search of freedom. The workmen, imported from overseas, gather the fishing boats and load them on a truck. The men fold the earth in ways Thandi would have thought impossible. Bits and pieces of rock scatter as trees are uprooted. When they collapse, the earth shakes. A huge silence follows. Thandi always knew that the sky would fall. The clouds gather together, and the sun stands still and watches her world crumble. People begin to snatch their things from their shacks, forced into the unknown, leaving just the John-crows that brood like hunchbacked witches sniffing death under their armpits. The men rope off the fishing village, right where you go when heading to Miss Ruby’s or Charles’s shacks. Those shacks are marked to be destroyed. But Thandi has an inkling that her side of the river might be next.

  Rumor has it that Miss Ruby, interrupted from rubbing cream on her face one morning, stood outside her shack and cussed the men. “Ovah me dead body! Oonuh tek everyt’ing else, but not me house! This is mine!” The men must have taken one look at Miss Ruby’s white face and decided she was an obeah woman wielding spells with her wild hand gestures and that strange language that she spoke. All of a sudden the earth started to shake. The shaking was harder and longer than the tremble of the falling trees. The men clutched their helmets and searched for safety. They ran for cover, diving behind bushes and under sheets of zinc. After the shaking stopped, they came out slowly, cautiously, and surveyed the damage around them. They then looked at the white-faced black woman, who appeared just as stunned as them. Later it was reported that what they had experienced was an earthquake. They decided to halt the construction until a later date. They left the bulldozers where they were, the engines baring their teeth like a threat, leaving the residents of River Bank to wait for whatever will come next.

  Currently there is yellow tape all over town. The warning is as clear as the sun. In a matter of weeks, River Bank will be no more. Everyone gathers to meet at Dino’s at night to discuss the development. They talk and talk, the men pounding fists on tables or countertops and the women shaking or holding their heads. Macka offers them hard liquor, like he offered the farmers when their crops had started to die, and they take gulps, not sips, throwing their heads back and wiping sweat from ridged foreheads. Little children play hide-and-seek under the tables and chairs, avoiding the grown-ups, who are beside themselves in panic. Even if they block River Bank Road in protest, the developers will still proceed. Look what happened to Little Bay. They have already erected hotel resorts on top of people’s homes, and they will do it again and again.

  In the midst of their chatter, Verdene Moore appears in the doorway. A hush falls over the bar. Even the children stop playing to look. She glides inside Dino’s without a pause, as though she has always belonged. As though she hasn’t noticed the women shifting to avoid touching her, the mothers hissing for their little girls to move away, and the men clutching their bottles like a neck they want to strangle. Thandi, who is seated beside Delores, watches her with curiosity. Verdene smiles at Thandi and she almost smiles back before remembering not to. Verdene sits next to her. “Hello, Thandi,” she says, her voice laced with familiarity. An agitated Delores grabs a slipper as if to hit Verdene. “Get behind me, Satan!” Delores shouts.

  “I’m not going to let you run me off again,” Verdene says calmly. She doesn’t move away from Delores and her slipper. “My mother didn’t raise a coward. This is my community too. I was born and raised here just like you.” She glances around the room. “Just like all of you.”

  One by one people take their hands from their jaws or lolling heads to look. They become animated in their disapproval again, Verdene’s presence seeming to revitalize their spirit. “Yuh crazy?” Macka asks Verdene. “Why yuh t’ink yuh can come in here an’ stan’ up like yuh own di place?”

  “This problem concerns me too.”

  “It might do yuh more good to leave.” Macka moves closer to her like he’s about to do something.

  “I’m not the one to blame,” Verdene says. “Why don’t you focus your energy on those who are responsible?”

  “You’re a bigger devil,” Delores says. “Worse than the devil driving us out of our country.” The room quiets, its occupants waiting to see which way the conflict will go. Verdene walks up to the bar and stays, her body stiff with determination. Realizing she’s undeterred by their bullying, and sick with their own troubles, everyone returns to clutching their bottles of liquor to wet their parched mouths and throats, completely drained and powerless as they were before.

  Thandi stares out into the darkness as Margot brushes her hair. Like old times, she’s sitting between her sister’s legs absorbing the comfort of the gentle strokes, the mild scrape of the bristles on her forehead as she bends her head back, the sheesh-sheesh sound of hairs being pulled from the roots and tickling the back of her neck soothing. Thandi is sitting with her knees pressed to her chest and her arms encircled around them. It’s dark except for the kerosene lamp that Margot uses to see what she’s doing, and the wood fire that burns nearby, the flames crackling in the cool night air. Margot is humming a song Thandi doesn’t recognize. Earlier Thandi had heard her mother and her sister whispering about her, their hissing fight stirring from the back of the house. She knows it has to do with her being withdrawn over the last few days. Del
ores went out to get more eucalyptus leaves from people who have the trees in their yards, to boil for Thandi’s bath. They want her back to her old self as graduation approaches, but her ache is deeper than any she has ever felt. It’s deeper than her bones. A soul ache that rattles her already fragile body so great that it knocks her down and yanks her under the throes of a restless sleep. When she’s awake, all she can do is try to recall those dreams that were swept away by the turbulent waves. In her waking moments the water closes quickly over the place where Charles disappears, though Thandi can still feel him—the pressure of his body on hers.

  Margot gently parts Thandi’s hair into sections and applies Blue Magic on her scalp like a balm. Thandi inhales the familiar scent, which mixes with her sister’s. She closes her eyes and just feels Margot’s fingers massaging her scalp.

  “You told me dat yuh didn’t have a boyfriend,” Margot says gently.

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “We agreed.”

  Margot begins to massage Thandi’s scalp again with the oil. “Now look at all the pain he caused you, when this is supposed to be the happiest time of yuh life.” Her voice is as soft as the hair on Thandi’s shoulders. “I’ve never seen you like this. Thandi, yuh have to snap out of it. He’s not coming back. This is the kind of thing that mek women go mad, yuh see all those mad people in di streets wid their hair like thundahclouds an’ privates exposed? They get like that because they expected too much. Nothing lasts forever, Thandi.” She picks up the comb and resumes her languid strokes. “Delores used to give me baths.” Margot’s voice cracks. “I was sick too. Sick wid the same t’ing. Over a girl who told me I was pretty.” Margot chuckles at this. “Ached all ovah my body. Ah couldn’t explain what was happening to me. Nothing Delores did could get me back to myself. I didn’t know what it was then that made me so . . .” She pauses when Thandi turns around to look at her, flame dancing in her eyes. “I was young. And naïve,” she says. “But I knew something was inside me. Felt it here.” She puts her hand to her belly. “It was like a ball of fire. Delores thought the baths would heal the sickness. She thought all sorta things. Even took me to ah obeah woman to get rub down wid oil an’ black magic concoction. Di woman gave me goat blood to drink in a soup an’ I ran. But there was nothing that coulda get my mind off her.”