Island Songs

by Alex Wheatle

  Six days after Elvira’s birthday party. Hortense had volunteered to work the family stall all week – much to Jenny’s surprise, for in the past she had always described it as ‘work fe woman who cyan’t find nuh mon’. Jenny was glad to take a break from the market and busied herself helping out her mother while hoping to see Cilbert at church the coming Sunday; Amy noted Jenny’s new obsession in how her mother met her father and how he courted her. At last! Amy thought, a thawing of their relationship. “Me eldest daughter come back to me,” she whispered at night before sleep claimed her.

  Jenny had dreamed of Cilbert every night since she met him and at quiet moments prayed to God, pleading forgiveness for her fleshly desires. It was the only intimate secret she had kept from her sister. He would surely come to church if him waan to claim me heart, Jenny thought. Mebbe he would ask Mama fe permission to tek me out? Hortense had none of her sister’s qualms, however. So one morning, when she saw Cilbert walking through the market carrying a broken transistor radio, she hailed him. “Wire! Wire!”

  Recognising the battered cart, Cilbert realised that Jenny and Hortense were sisters. “Ya red skin girl ah still pull ya rope?” Hortense opened with, pushing out her chest, striking a pose like a Kingston madam.

  “Nuh, Hortense,” Cilbert strongly denied, disliking the jest. “She jus’ ah girl who me grow up local wid, yuh know. Mebbe she t’ink we ’ave ah future togeder.”

  “Is dat so?” asked Hortense. “Almyna too maaga anyhow. She don’t ’ave chile-bearing hips an’ she waan put chain ’pon ya ankle. An’ her eyes are full of deceit. Remember dis, Cilbert, de blacker de plum de sweeter de juice.” Hortense flashed Cilbert a sexy smile so he could be in no doubt of her meaning.

  Two days later, they arranged a liaison in an isolated spot near Crab Foot Gully; a patch of narrow sloping land that ran parallel to a dry, clay gulley where the grass grew long and the crickets multiplied. Under the leaves of a Blue Mahoe, lust overcame Cilbert as Hortense allowed him to paw and suck her breasts, his hands sliding over her toned midriff before diving between her legs. Titillation overcoming him, his fingers intruded under her knickers. Hortense slapped Cilbert’s face, abruptly stood up and adjusted her under-garments. With a sideways grin, she commented. “Ya hungry! An’ mighty firm. But me have me family reputation to t’ink about! Yuh nuh know me’s an innocent Christian girl?”

  They next met in secret after Sunday church; Jenny was desperately scanning the flock for Cilbert, wondering when she would see him again, while Jacob was staring at her, distracted from his altar-boy duties. Hortense, who knew Cilbert would be waiting for her in a jackfruit grove half a mile away, sang her heart out. This time Hortense allowed Cilbert to pull her drawers off and, as she moaned with pleasure as he stroked her crotch, he wondered if indeed she was a virgin as she claimed to be. Sensing her excitement as well as his own, he mounted and prepared to enter her. Hortense punched him, man-like, in the forehead, causing a welt to appear over her suitor’s left eyebrow. “Wha’ kind ah girl yuh t’ink me is? Me know so yuh ’ave one woman already an’ yuh waan to grine me! Nex’ time dat red piece ah shit, Almyna, come up to see yuh from de wild bush she ah live, tell her yuh done wid her. Sen’ her back to her liccle shanty hut where de fowl neck are scraggy, de dahg dem maaga an’ de women ’ave tough toe like tree root!”

  Hastily pulling on her clothes, Hortense marched off cursing Almyna’s very existence, leaving Cilbert still aroused. He shook his head as he watched her leave. “Mon! Wha’ ah blasted nettle ah tease but me affe grine her even if it kill me! Yes sa.”

  On her next weekend visit to Cilbert, who was lodging with Mr DaCosta’s family, Almyna learned that Cilbert harboured no plans for them to get married. She cussed him for giving her promises and taking her virginity, but Cilbert, fazed only by the prospect of making full love to Hortense, ignored her shrieks and pleas and flailing arms. He offered to walk her to the bus stop. Almyna walked daintily with her head held high as if she was born from aristocratic stock, but the curses that spewed from her mouth betrayed her poise.

  Cilbert, embarrassed whenever a passer-by offered disapproving glances, looked upon Almyna with wearisome eyes. “Almyna, t’ings change from we parents time. Ah mon don’t affe marry de girl nex’ door or de girl him ah first court wid. Ah mon now cyan marry anyone him please – even if him parents don’t give dem blessing.”

  “Cilbert! Ya words were different when yuh tek me virginity,” stormed Almyna. “Yuh don’t remember how yuh feel so sweet when yuh push yaself inside me? Yuh forget how yuh kiss me behind an’ all over? Saying yuh been to heaven. Becah ah yuh, me affe lie to me papa, who ah wonder if me having ‘relations’ wid yuh. Everybody inna we village pass dem remark how we look so nice togeder. How me gwarn to tell dem dat we bruk up? Cilbert, yuh mek me look like ah damn fool an’ me know wha’ some ah me girl friends will say. Dey will say dat Almyna gwarn to be ah chileless mule! Me nineteen now an’ still nuh marry! So don’t try to sweet me wid any words becah yuh spoil me life fe true.”

  “But Almyna, ya still very pretty an’ nuff black mon me know go fe ah red skin girl. So me cyan’t see nuh problem ketching ah nex’ mon. It’s jus’ dat me nuh ready to settle down jus’ yet.”

  “Mebbe me shoulda stick to me own complexion!” Almyna roared, aiming to injure Cilbert’s self esteem. “Me nuh know why me ever tek up wid yuh! How cyan yuh treat me so? De blacker de mon de more uncivilise dey behave wid woman. Dey don’t possess manners an’ respect. Dat is wha’ me gran’mama used to say an’ me shoulda lissen to she more keenly when me grow. Me cyan’t believe ah black mon refuse me!”

  The cursing never stopped until Almyna had informed everybody in her village of Cilbert’s refusal to marry her. She secretly regretted not becoming pregnant and trapping Cilbert but she had always shoved Cilbert off her as he was about to climax, fearful of what her father and other villagers would say if she had fallen pregnant before marriage.

  Mr DaCosta, counselling his young relative, asked Cilbert, “Hortense, ’ave yuh by ya seedbag an’ madness ah claim yuh wid dis girl. Yuh sure yuh mek de right choice?”

  Cilbert paused before answering. “Yes, me sure, uncle. She different from Almyna. She ’ave ah fire. She only follow her own mind. She never tek nuh shit from anyone. Me love de way she walk! We both waan ah betterness in we life. We both waan to move on from de country, start afresh somewhere else. An’ she is de prettiest girl me ever see. Wid Almyna, becah of her red skin, me always feel…below her, yuh know. Like she done me ah privilege by courting wid me. Her family? Dey used to look ’pon me wid de corner ah dem eye. Sometime me used to t’ink dat me woulda be better off if me tek me mudder’s complexion. Wid Hortense me is her equal; me nuh feel inferior. Yes, sa, she is de one.”

  A week later, Hortense invited Cilbert for Sunday dinner. She had risen early and swept out the front and back yards. She cleaned out the chicken coop and even sponged down the walls of the house as she sang gospel hymns. Jenny watched her suspiciously. Amy’s eyes followed Hortense with a smile, glad to hear song around the house once more. Realising it was a big day for her youngest daughter, Amy bought a goat from Mr DaCosta – he offered it to her at quarter price following Amy’s gift of prize pumpkins, avocados and all the scallion she could carry. Hortense, only thinking of Cilbert, ignored the stares from her family and put on her best dress for church.

  Jacob conducted the service on this day as his father was ill. His eyes kept seeking out Jenny but she only responded with a listlessness that he couldn’t understand. Her mouth kept firmly closed at the singing of hymns and it seemed that Jenny couldn’t drag her eyes from the floor. Meanwhile, Hortense sang with vigour and heart, impressing the elders. Upon the return home, Amy scolded Jenny for her indifference. “Sorry, Mama,” Jenny said in her defence. “Me don’t feel too well today an’ me t’roat ah liccle dry. Me never mean to embarrass yuh, Mama. Me mek sure it don’t happen again.”

  “Yuh shoulda say somet’ing!” re
plied Amy, looking concerned. “Me will boil up some ginger an’ lime when we reach home.”

  “T’ank yuh, Mama. Dat would be Godly. Yuh know, Hortense woulda usually do dis t’ing fe me an’ look out fe me when me sick. But she too wrap up wid dat cocksmon, Cilbert. By de sound ah him me don’t trus’ him, Mama. Me hear some wild stories about dis Cilbert. Some say him ’ave woman here an’ der. Mama, yuh sure yuh waan give ya blessing to Hortense an’ Cilbert relationship? Sweet Hortense is fragile an’ me don’t t’ink she could ah cope if ah mon bruise her heart. She still missing David so she vulnerable. If somet’ing go wrong wid dem it will be me who would ’ave to repair Hortense’s loving heart.”

  “Well, him coming today so we cyan all check out him intention.”

  Dressed in a grey hand-me-down suit and a brown stetson that he had borrowed from Mr DaCosta, Cilbert arrived at the Rodney home at four o’clock in the afternoon. He was bearing a gift of a bottle of finest Appleton’s rum; Amy was quick to mix the spirit with goat’s milk and shared it out to all in mugs, Kwarhterleg hobbling in assistance.

  “T’ank yuh, Miss Amy, fe inviting me ’pon dis fine Sunday afternoon,” began Cilbert, wary of the dogs who were yapping around his ankles. “It’s an honour to be here.”

  Amy collected Cilbert’s hat and hung it up inside the house. Hortense was strangely subdued as she introduced Cilbert to her family. Cilbert tensed up as he proffered his hand to greet Jenny. “Hortense, wha’ ah fine looking family yuh come from. An’ dis is Jenny? Mighty fine to meet yuh, Jenny.”

  Cilbert was unable to meet Jenny’s eyes but Jenny herself smiled warmly. “An’ mighty fine to meet yuh too. Hortense ah me younger sister so if yuh don’t look after her right yuh will ’ave me to answer to!”

  For a stretched second there was a certain tension in the air but it faded when Jenny laughed. “Cilbert,” Jenny chuckled. “If yuh gwarn to be wid ah Rodney woman den yuh mus’ learn to tek joke!”

  “Me will drink to dat,” interjected Kwarhterleg, raising his mugful of rum, wondering if a top-up would be permitted. “Cilbert, yuh ’ave any cigarette yuh cyan give me?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Cilbert went over to Kwarhterleg and gave him two cigarettes. Kwarhterleg was eager to chat to Cilbert for a while for since Joseph’s departure he had been denied conversations with fellow men; Levi would only drop by for a few minutes. Hortense went to assist Carmesha with the cooking while Jenny, no eyes upon her, shot baleful glances in her sister’s direction, her breathing becoming heavier.

  Managing to compose herself by the time the family had settled down to dinner, Jenny indeed proved to be the perfect hostess, serving drinks and food to everybody with a ready smile. Cilbert talked of his ambitions and dreams. Hortense grinned girlishly beside him, laughing at his jokes. “Yes, sa, me soon off to de big city, learn me trade, an’ wid Hortense by me side, live ah good life.”

  Amy and Carmesha responded by clapping their hands and embracing Hortense. They assumed that they had just heard a clumsy proposal. Jenny stood up and complained of an upset stomach. She excused herself and walked rather theatrically to the pit toilet where she remained for half an hour.

  During Jenny’s absence, Levi arrived on the family donkey. He was wearing Joseph’s old clothes that were much too big for him and the family tried hard to stifle their laughter, save Hortense who collapsed in giggles. “Sorry me late,” Levi said. “Me hope dat some dinner still lef’. Me bless yuh all ’pon dis fine day.”

  Securing the donkey’s reins to a post, Levi then went to greet everybody at the dinner table; Cilbert regarded him with unblinking eyes. “Carmesha,” Levi said. “Cyan me jus’ steal yuh fe ah minute. Ah delicate t’ing me wish to discuss wid yuh.”

  “Carmesha!” Hortense laughed. “Ya wild mon finally find courage.”

  “Hortense! Quiet ya mout’,” Amy rebuked.

  Blushing, Carmesha walked away with Levi to a nearby field. “Wha’ about ya dinner!” Amy called.

  “Me will soon come fe it,” returned Levi who was fishing in his pockets.

  His left hand emerged with a beautifully carved wooden hair clip that had the image of a Doctor Bird engraved on it. Shyly, he looked into Carmesha’s eyes. “Fe yuh, Carmesha. Fe many t’ings yuh do fe me.”

  Accepting the gift, Carmesha pressed it to her chest. “T’ank yuh, Levi. Me will treasure dis.”

  Smiling, Levi said, “yuh always accuse me of talking in riddles. Well, dis nah nuh riddle. Me waan to live like ah mon. Becah me is ah mon first before anyt’ing else. Y’understand?”

  Nodding, Carmesha grinned broadly.

  “After me ’ave me dinner,” Levi continued. “Me waan to show yuh de place where me live. It beautiful up der. An’ ya presence will mek it complete.”

  Fixing the hairclip into her hair, Carmesha replied, “only if yuh fry me some grunt fish fe ah late night supper.”

  Looking on from fifty yards away, Amy remarked, “dis romantic t’ing mus’ be ketching!”

  Three hours later, Kwarhterleg was smoking his pipe under his favourite tree. He was peering into the heavens, reflecting on some long-held memory. He couldn’t make out Cilbert and Hortense’s whispered conversations, who were thirty yards away in a field, snuggled up to each other. They too studied the star-lit sky, thinking of their futures.

  “Cilbert,” Hortense called affectionately. “Yuh really mean wha’ yuh say today? Dat yuh waan we to live togeder side by side? As mon an’ wife?”

  “Of course! But me affe go ah Kingston an’ study fe de nex’ t’ree years. Me ’ave family inna Papine me cyan stay wid. Den when me get me papers we cyan invite everybody an’ get marry.”

  “Me don’t waan to wait dat long! Nuh, sa! Me waan to get married now. Who knows wha’ might happen to yuh while yuh study inna Kingston. Anoder red skin bitch might tek ya fancy an’ yuh will forget about me! An’ look ’pon poor Carmesha! She was waiting fe de day to marry me sweet brudder, David. But dutty police batter an’ kill him fe not’ing inna stone cell. Nuh, mon. Yuh better mek me ah honest woman now or forget de whole damn t’ing!”

  Cilbert pulled Hortense back to him and reassured her by stroking her face. “Hortense! As if me could look fe anoder when me ’ave yuh. Nuh boder yaself! T’ings will work out jus’ fine. Me will come back to Claremont every weekend to see yuh. An’ also me will come back when me der ’pon vacation. Den, when me get me trade papers we cyan ’ave ah big wedding an’ set up home somewhere nice. Or even go ah foreign land. Yes, sa. England.”

  Wrestling herself free, Hortense stood up and placed her hands on her hips. “Nuh. Dat cyan’t go so! Yuh nuh lissen to me when me talk about David?”

  “Yes, Hortense, me understan’ ya tribulation but me promise it will nah strike again.”

  “Cilbert! Don’t tempt de will of de Most High. Who knows wha’ him ’ave in store fe we. Marry me now before fate come down crushing ’pon we!”

  As Cilbert walked back to the DaCosta home that night, he pondered Hortense’s sudden display of vulnerability. He took it as a good sign, reasoning that she needed commitment. It had also dampened his own fears, for he dreaded that while he might be away studying in Kingston, a well-booted man could take Hortense’s fancy. It had been a great worry, especially as Cilbert had yet to make full love to Hortense. He recalled his father saying to him once, “yuh cyan never be sure of ah woman’s love ’til ya mek her sweet wid ah mighty climax an’ de moon juices run like plenty, plenty rain filling dry gulley. When yuh give dat pleasure to her, she will nah look anoder. Fe true!”

  Reaching the DaCosta home, Cilbert roused his uncle from sleep. He poured a rum for his uncle and himself and offered him a cigarette. They sat in chairs upon the verandah, listening to the eerie and mysterious sounds of the Jamaican night and peering into the blackness. Cilbert emptied half his mug in one gulp. He grimaced from the burning sensation he felt in his throat and then announced cheerfully, “me an’ Hortense gwarn to marry inna de nex’ few
weeks.” Cilbert’s smile had never been so broad and his eyes sparkled with excitement. “Cyan yuh believe dat? Me gwarn to marry de prettiest girl ah Claremont.”

  Mr DaCosta, his eyes not fully open, replied, “de prettiest an’ de loudest.”

  Early next morning, Jenny was washing the family clothes in the river. She came across the light blue frock that Hortense had worn to Elvira’s birth-night party. She held it to her chest and closed her eyes. She imagined Cilbert forcing himself upon her, pulling at her clothes. She managed to free herself and was running through a mango grove, trying to escape. But Cilbert’s pursuit was swift. He caught up with her and tore off her frock, exposing her breasts. Jenny fought him off ferociously but when his hand slid down and pressed upon her crotch, Jenny yielded, allowing Cilbert to do whatever he wanted. Her flesh was screaming with excitement as Cilbert roughly palmed her genitals, breasts and buttocks. He forcibly pushed her down upon the ground and Jenny felt the soil grazing her stomach. Jenny then felt Cilbert’s manhood penetrating her, a powerful thrust that resonated throughout her body. A weird, excruciating pain but deeply pleasurable. She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him on.

  Opening her eyes, Jenny saw that she was still holding Hortense’s dress and in a fit of pique, ripped it from the collar to the sleeve. Seconds later, she offered a quick prayer to God, asking for His forgiveness.

  Riding the family donkey home, Jenny thought of explanations for what had happened to Hortense’s dress. Hortense was absently feeding the guinea fowl when her sister returned, humming some hymn. “Hortense! Hortense!” Jenny hailed mournfully. “Tribulation ah strike me today! Me cyan’t believe wha’ happen.”

  Ignoring the frenzied feeding in front of her, Hortense replied, “wha’? Ah tall fine strange mon bid yuh good marnin? Donkey ah shrug yuh off becah yuh nah rinse ya armpit? De sex crazy one-eyed bull inna Misser Dawkins plot mistake yuh fe cow?”