When the Singing Stops

by Di Morrissey

  ‘Maybe yo work with yo people, yo native people, eh? And what about Mr Connor? Now he be de big question.’ He gave her a quizzical look and she couldn’t help laughing.

  ‘Oh Lester. I don’t know . . . just yet anyway.’

  Lester rolled his eyes. ‘Ooh, dat poor feller.’

  His mother clicked her tongue as she listened while handing around more of her homemade biscuits. ‘Don’ yo rush in where yo not sure what waiting for yo. Marrying be a long time to have a headache. Yo be sure.’

  ‘Now, Mumma, dis be none o’ yo business,’ admonished Lester gently.

  His mother stood and placed one hand on her hip, the other still proffering the plate of biscuits. ‘Maybe. But yo can’t say I don’ speak from de knowing. Lookit you and young Denzil . . . dat woman you take up with . . . she never tink ’bout tings . . . just rush in cause yo is too soft, boy. And look where it got you. It be smart to go slow, be sure . . .’ she shook a finger at Madi. ‘Don’ you let dat moonbeam set in yo head girl.’

  ‘I won’t. I’ve learnt a lot about myself since I’ve been here.’

  ‘Dat be good.’ She bobbed her head in satisfaction as Lester looked acutely embarrassed.

  Madi gave him a grin. ‘Don’t yo feel bad, boy, we gals still give yo ’nother chance.’

  ‘Well ahmen,’ he mimicked her accent.

  Madi reached into her handbag. ‘Lester . . . I have a little present for you.’ She handed him the small package which he opened to find a framed photograph of them both standing knee deep in water, looking up from the gold pan with laughing faces.

  ‘Hey, Connor take dat when we find de nugget! Now dat be good, I put it here.’ Lester carried the picture to the shelf crowded with knick-knacks and photos and made a space in the centre front. ‘Now I can say hello to my friend every day,’ he said softly.

  Madi was touched. ‘There’s something else. I’ll give it to you . . . but it’s really for Denzil. I’d kind of like to be considered what we call a godmother. So every month I’ll send him something that he might find useful . . . just fun things,’ she added. Madi felt offering money would have offended Lester, so she hit upon the idea of sending his young boy practical items, clothing, toys, school things, once a month.

  ‘Yo don’t have to do dis, Miz Madi . . . yo gonna get back dere . . . and we gonna be someting just happen one time in yo life.’

  ‘Lester . . . I know it’s easy to think that . . . I’m going to another world, but I promise you, I want to keep some link. And I thought the most practical way would be to help Denzil a little bit.’

  Madi rose and put her plate and glass on the little carved coffee table. ‘I must get on.’

  ‘Okay, I take yo to yo car . . . I wish I could take yo to de airport. But dat be a job fo de bruddah and de lover, eh?’

  ‘Lester, next time I come back I’ll let you know and I expect you to be there to meet me.’

  ‘Yo got it, boss.’

  Madi hugged little Denzil, shook hands with his grandmother, and followed Lester onto the verandah. ‘So. Dis be goodbye to ma Guyana sister. I never thought I be such a friend with a lady like yo.’

  ‘Lester, I can’t begin to thank you. I feel so lucky to have met you. I’ve always thought you gave me the keys to Guyana. If I hadn’t met you . . .’ Tears suddenly welled in Madi’s eyes and her voice broke ‘. . . I would have just milled around the party circuit in Georgetown. I wouldn’t have known and learned all that I have.’

  In the darkness she couldn’t make out Lester’s expression but his voice trembled as he struggled to maintain a light manner. ‘Yo mean yo wouldn’t have had dem people shootin’ at yo, lockin yo up, making yo out to be a threat to de society . . .’ They both chuckled. ‘Madison, I got a small present for yo too.’ He reached out to a cane table for a package wrapped in brown paper and handed it to her. She felt its shape and looked at him. ‘It’s a book . . . Is it about Guyana?’

  ‘It be yo lady’s book. Gwen, de Aussie lady.’

  ‘Lester! How? Oh thank you!’ Madi gave him an excited hug. ‘I didn’t think I’d ever find one, where did you get it?’ She had always figured an obscure book such as this would be like finding a needle in a haystack.

  Lester shrugged. ‘Well, after we take de book back, me and de lady at de library came to a kind of arrangement,’ he said with a hint of amusement.

  ‘I see. I won’t ask any more about it then. I’m just thrilled to have it. You know how much it means to me.’

  ‘Good, dat be good.’ Lester sounded pleased. ‘Dere also be a tape in dere of my favourite steel band, de Silvertails, de boys made it fo yo.’

  ‘Oh Lester. Every time I play it I’ll be right back here.’ Lester played the tape constantly in his taxi.

  He took her arm and walked her down the steps and back to her car.

  ‘I hate goodbyes, Lester.’

  ‘Den we jest say, we be seein’ yo round.’

  He opened the car door. Madi gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and got in behind the wheel as he gently closed the door.

  ‘Dat frog be watchin out fo yo. Remember dat.’

  ‘I will, Lester. Be seeing you round then.’ She started the car and brushed away a tear as she pulled out into Duke Street.

  ‘I never forget yo, Miz Madi.’

  It seemed all the people she’d become friends with were crammed into the living room at Matthew’s. Hyacinth and Primrose passed platters of snacks and Singh in a white shirt and long pants, but bare feet, was waiter. How she would miss these people. She had made such good friends and enjoyed their hospitality and generosity.

  When it came time to leave, Madi waved from the car as the party guests spilled into the garden to send her off. Singh held open the gate and gave a salute.

  It was a long drive to Timehri airport and Matthew kept up a stream of inconsequential chatter about the party to cover the silence between Madi and Connor. In the back, Connor rubbed Madi’s neck, occasionally leaning forward to kiss behind her ear.

  At the airport it was chaos as emotional relatives farewelled families who were emigrating to the meccas of Canada, the UK and the USA.

  ‘I hope this changes,’ said Madi quietly. ‘Families should stay here and have a good future, not want to get out.’

  ‘That’s what Xavier is working towards. Wouldn’t surprise me if he’s running the country in the future,’ said Matthew.

  Once they’d fought their way through the check-in Matthew went looking for coffees, leaving Connor and Madi alone at a small plastic table.

  He took her hands. ‘So?’

  She looked into his face, seeing the love and pain and confusion in his eyes. Madi bit her lip and gently pulled her hands away.

  ‘I do love you, Connor. But I’m just not ready. Please, keep this for now.’ She pulled the ring from her finger and put it in his hand, curling his fingers over it.

  ‘No. No. Keep it, Madi. A souvenir or something . . . please don’t do this.’ There was a desperate note in his voice. ‘As long as you have the diamond, I know there’ll be a chance for me . . . this seems so final.’

  ‘A ring, beautiful as it is, can’t bind me to you, Connor, my darling. I have to make the decision myself, with no strings attached.’

  Connor looked down, biting his lip, not trusting himself to speak.

  ‘Don’t be hurt, or upset. I’m not throwing you over. I just want more time. Breathing space of my own, away from this mad, crazy, wonderful hothouse of a country. Everything has been so intense the whole time. It’s like living in technicolour while the rest of the world is black and white,’ said Madi gently.

  ‘You’re not going to write me a Dear John letter . . . promise me that. Madi, just make me one promise. If your eventual answer is to be no, if you decide you don’t ever want to marry me, live with me, be with me, then tell me to my face. Wherever I am. Please. Promise me that.’ He spoke urgently and Madi understood how much this meant. He was not going to give up on her, he believ
ed he’d always be able to try to change her mind. And it dawned on her how much he loved her. She nodded. ‘I promise.’

  Matthew returned with a tray of coffees which they didn’t finish before the flight to London was called over a crackling loudspeaker, interrupting the reggae music.

  Matthew hugged her tightly. ‘God speed, sis. I’ll miss you.’ He kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear. ‘I hope you found what you came for.’

  Tears were running unchecked down her face. ‘I did, Matty, more than you know.’

  He stepped back and Connor took her in his arms and kissed her. And once again the passion that he aroused in her swept over her, and with his strong and loving arms about her she thought how easy it would be to simply say yes, and be his wife and have his children and be swept along in a life that would be good and exactly what she wanted . . . travel, a man who idolised her, someone she respected, liked and loved. It was everything she thought she didn’t want when she had set out on a career path.

  Now she had discovered she wanted all those things, and she’d never find anyone better than Connor. But there was still a part of her that had just bloomed and this fragile flower needed its time in the sun.

  She pulled away from his kiss. ‘I do love you, Connor. Be patient. If you can’t, I understand.’

  ‘I’ll always be waiting for you, Madi.’

  She was pushed through with the crush of boarding passengers and had time for only a glance over her shoulder for a final smile at the two Australians watching her leave.

  They waited till the flight rose into the night sky. Connor looked at Matthew and gave a rueful smile. ‘Well, I guess this is where I came in.’

  Matthew nodded. ‘Yeah, well that’s life, mate. Let’s see if Singh and the mob have left any rum.’

  Connor didn’t move. ‘I can’t help wondering about the effect of all this on Madi.’

  ‘She needs time, Connor.’

  Connor turned and walked beside Matthew as they made their way back through the crushing crowd. It would take time for Madi to come to terms with the complexity of the power plays, her disillusionment and, finally, her future. And Connor couldn’t help wondering whether, as she recognised the harsh reality of life brought home to her by the events here, would she keep her faith and idealism intact?

  Madi closed her eyes. She could see nothing from her window other than the reflection of her tear-stained face. She knew down below the two men she loved so dearly were driving back to the city along a potholed road. And further inland stretched the vast interior of a land she’d come to love. And in one part of it, beside the top of a magnificent waterfall, a handful of golden frogs were singing their chorus into the night.

  EPILOGUE

  Sydney, Australia, September 1996

  Dear Lester,

  Please find enclosed some Aussie togs for Denzil, a book about Blinky Bill and my favourite, The Magic Pudding. Some good news. I just got back from Ballarat where I found some clues about Gwen from the archivist at Clarendon Ladies College where Gwen and her sister Cecily, went to school. Their brother Lawrence attended nearby Ballarat College. It seems Gwen left Guyana to go to New York to sing opera on the stage! She was apparently a friend of the famous actress Ellen Terry. Maybe that was the reason she had to rush away from the Mazaruni to go to New York!

  And after all that . . . you know how she ended up? As the wife of Major Blake. There’s a reference in the school’s newspaper The Touchstone in December 1930 that ‘Mrs Blake (Gwen Richardson) author of On The Diamond Trail in British Guiana is revisiting with her husband, Major Blake, British Guiana and is planning to travel far inland in search of diamonds and gold’.

  How I long to know more about her and her family. Still this is a start.

  Like Gwen, I have come home . . . I caught up with Ann and John da Silva in England and had a great three months working for the British Eco Tourism Task Force. I hope to be able to put my experience and expertise to work back here in Australia.

  Enough! I’ll get off my soapbox.

  Connor is coming home from China in a few months so we’ll see where we stand with each other then. He’s taking up a new appointment in Australia.

  I have decided I would like to have children. Yes, I know there are too many people on the planet and I respect my friends who have chosen not to have kids.

  But I think about you and your Denzil often and the closeness you share. I hope he can grow up in safety and plenty and get a good education in Guyana. And I’d like my kids to be able to do the same here and have a mother and father who contribute to making this world a better place.

  As always, talking to you, my good friend, seems to clarify things in my mind.

  Let me know the minute you strike the big one.

  Good luck,

  Love, Madison.

  LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

  Map of Guyana in South America

  Area: 214 970 square kilometres

  Population: 740 000

  Religions: Christian 50%, Hindu 33%, Muslim 9%, other 8%

  Languages: English, Guyanese Creole, Indian dialects

  Ethnic Groups: East Indian origin 51%, African origin 30%, mixed 15%, Indian 4%

  Agriculture: Sugar, rice

  Natural Resources: Gold, bauxite, diamonds, timber, prawns, fish

  Prologue Kaieteur Falls

  Chapter One Sydney Harbour Bridge

  Chapter Two Queen Victoria Law Courts, Georgetown

  Chapter Three Suburban street scene, Georgetown

  Chapter Four Hoatzin. National bird of Guyana

  Chapter Five Lotus flowers

  Chapter Six Georgetown architecture

  Chapter Seven Buttress roots of rainforest tree

  Chapter Eight Savannah

  Chapter Nine Umana Yana, Amerindian meeting house, Georgetown

  Chapter Ten Amerindian hunter

  Chapter Eleven Amerindian mother and child in sling

  Chapter Twelve Amerindian village home

  Chapter Thirteen Amerindian woman with matapee making cassava beer

  Chapter Fourteen Agouti

  Chapter Fifteen Amerindian with woodskin

  Chapter Sixteen Otter lady with giant otter

  Chapter Seventeen Amerindian style guest cottage at Caraboo

  Chapter Eighteen Baby coatimundis

  Chapter Nineteen Amerindian with warishi (backpack)

  Chapter Twenty Amerindian fisherman

  Epilogue Rainforest frog—symbol of Guyana

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