Breadfruit

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by Célestine Vaite


  He was walking past the post office and Loana said she was about to call out, “Eh, Auguste, are you fine?” but she changed her mind at the last second.

  What do you say to a man who tried to commit suicide for you thirty-five years ago?

  So, Loana said, she just watched Auguste walk on, a well-dressed man carrying a briefcase—a man of business, or a professor, perhaps. And Loana felt strange. This is the story of the marriage proposal Loana got from Auguste.

  After her mother died, Loana went to live with a distant auntie and her Irish husband. The auntie and her husband were devoted churchgoers. Well, Auntie was the devoted churchgoer and her husband had to follow her or Auntie would get into a bad mood with him.

  They went to Mass at Sainte Thérèse, and Auntie made Loana join the church choir because in her opinion Loana had a magnificent voice and a girl who sings for God is bound to catch a good husband—at the church. Auntie hadn’t met her husband at the church, but he was a good catch anyhow. She was fortunate.

  So Loana sang in the church choir every Sunday morning.

  One Sunday, Auguste and his family began to attend the Mass at Sainte Thérèse—they’d previously gone to the cathedral.

  Auguste fell in love with Loana at first sight. Every Sunday he would sit in the front row of the church and just admire her. Loana didn’t notice him, being too busy concentrating on the songs.

  One day, right after Mass, Auguste’s mother approached Loana’s auntie. She wanted a bit of information about Loana, and Auntie said, “Ah, my niece, she’s a very good girl. She goes to Mass every Sunday—she’s not the fooling-around kind of girl.” The two women spoke for a while and embraced each other good-bye like they knew each other well.

  The following Sunday, Auguste and Loana were formally introduced to each other.

  And for five Sundays, they did chitchat after the Mass.

  One day on the way home from church, Auntie, winking and giggling, said to Loana, “You caught a very good fish, girl.”

  Soon there was a marriage proposal, and the answer the auntie expected was, of course, a yes, because Auguste was from a very respectable family, with a great future ahead of him as a schoolteacher. He was also a devoted churchgoer, and, what’s more, he had a good-looking face and irreproachable manners. Irreproachable.

  Auntie said to Loana, “Think about that marriage proposal, girl. Think about it seriously.”

  In the meantime, it was organized that the young man could come to visit. Auntie set the time and date.

  Auguste arrived at six o’clock precisely, as commanded by Auntie—he came with a potted plant for Auntie. Auntie was greatly surprised by the gift.

  They sat at the kitchen table: Auguste and Auntie on one side and Loana on the other. The Irish uncle was very busy with a bottle of whisky out the back.

  Auguste came again the following day, and the following, and the day after that. Two weeks passed in this way. Then he demanded an answer. Auntie confessed to Loana that the marriage would give her peace of mind.

  “I’m not young, girl,” she said. “I could die any day.”

  Auntie wanted to die knowing Loana would be well looked after, with a roof over her head, food on the table, and a good, hardworking husband.

  Loana accepted the marriage proposal.

  Auguste fell to his knees and said to Loana, “I swear to you that I will make you a happy woman.”

  But one night as Loana sat thinking on the verandah, she realized that she didn’t want to be Auguste’s wife. She felt nothing for him and she knew that you were supposed to feel something for the man you were going to marry. Loana knew, for instance, that when Auntie met Gordon for the first time, she said to herself, “That man, he’s for me. I want that man!”

  Loana told Auntie of her decision not to marry Auguste.

  “I can’t force you, girl, but you’re making a great mistake,” Auntie said, disappointed. “One day you’re going to regret it. Well, you tell Auguste. I wash my hands.”

  Auguste cried when Loana told him, he fell on his knees, he begged, he threatened to kill himself.

  The next morning, Auguste tried to hang himself. Luckily, the neighbor who was outside feeding his dog saw him. He jumped over the fence, but by the time he got to the breadfruit tree, Auguste was on the ground—alive. The branch had broken. He wasn’t meant to die that day.

  Auguste’s mother was so devastated that she sent her son away to France.

  Loana and Auntie and her husband had to change churches. It was too much to bear to be sitting in the same church as the mother of that poor seventeen-year-old boy who’d tried to commit suicide for Loana.

  Auntie didn’t make Loana join the choir at the new church.

  Aue… Loana told Materena how she felt bad about it for months. Then she fell in love and she was glad that she didn’t marry that Auguste. Then her heart got broken and she wished she had married that Auguste. Then she fell in love again.

  Loana loved many times, and two of her lovers gave her children. One was a French militaire who went back to his country and the other a Tahitian who went back to his wife.

  Loana says she’s through with men now and content with her life. She goes wherever she wants to, no need for authorization, a leave pass, nobody pestering her, asking where are you going, how long are you going to be, who are you going with patati patata . . .

  Not that she goes anywhere. She likes to stay home.

  But when she feels like sleeping on the mat in the living room, well, she sleeps on the mat in the living room, and when she wants to stay awake, well, she watches the TV or she listens to the music on the radio.

  She’s alone but free.

  Aue, life, it’s simple.

  But there are days when she thinks it would be nice to have somebody.

  Materena rolls to the other side of the bed. It’s too hot to be hugging Pito. And, plus, the alcohol smell on Pito is a bit too strong. Materena tells herself that she should get some sleep, even if she’s not going to work tomorrow, Saturday. But the marriage proposal is in her head. She keeps hearing Pito say, “Marry me.”

  Marry me.

  Go to sleep, Materena, she tells herself.

  Who Is Going to Walk Materena down the Aisle?

  But she can’t.

  Materena knows that there will be a crowd at her wedding, because she’s got hundreds of cousins—and her cousins, they like to go to baptisms, Communions, confirmations, weddings, birthdays, even if they’re not invited.

  And when an uninvited guest comes to your party, you can’t say, “And what are you doing here? I didn’t invite you. Go back to your house.” That is not the proper thing to do. One day, you might need that particular cousin. Uninvited cousins always come with food and drinks, though, and that is a good thing, so it is fine with Materena if they come to her wedding.

  But the guests, they will get an invitation—like pregnant Cousin Giselle, Cousin Mori, Cousin Tepua, Auntie Stella—and Rita will be matron of honor, because she’s Materena’s favorite cousin.

  Then Mama Teta will drive Materena to the church and around Papeete, Cousin Moeata will make the wedding cake, which will be chocolate, of course, and Cousin Georgette, professional DJ, will ensure that there will be dancing songs for everyone from the young to the old.

  Materena thinks how it’s a shame a mother can’t walk her daughter down the aisle. For the hundredth time in her life, she wonders what would have happened if her father hadn’t gone back to his country.

  His name was Tom Delors. He came to Tahiti to do military service. He was eighteen years old when he met Loana, who was also eighteen. Tom and Loana met at the Zizou Bar, in Papeete, the bar where the French military men and the local women make contact.

  Loana was chatting away with her girlfriend at the bar when Tom invited her for a dance. She accepted the invitation because she was in the mood for a dance and Tom had a good-looking face. She certainly wasn’t going to spend the whole night chatting a
way with her girlfriend!

  Loana and Tom danced all night long, with brief moments of rest in between when they would have a little chat and a whisky Coca. At the end of the night, they arranged a rendezvous for the following Saturday because they really liked each other. Loana thought Tom was a great dancer as well as being funny. Tom was captivated by Loana’s exotic beauty—the long black hair and the short thin-strapped local pareu dress.

  Within three months of their first meeting, Loana and Tom were living together in a bungalow at Arue with three other couples—military men and Tahitian women.

  Loana’s elder sister was ashamed that Loana was messing around with a popa’a—worse, a militaire. In those days, local women who messed around with militaire popa’a had a bad reputation. They were called easy women, sluts—desperate for a ticket to France. But Loana wasn’t desperate for a ticket to France—she just loved her Tom.

  When Tom was away on a mission at an outer island, Loana would go out dancing with her woman friends for something to do, but it was rare. Tom didn’t appreciate it. He was the jealous type, Materena’s father.

  “Tom, eh,” Loana would say to him, “it’s you I love.”

  Eh yes, she loved him real bad. And he was good to her.

  They were together for six months before they separated.

  It was quite silly, their separation.

  That day, they were having guests to dinner and Loana had made a special effort to cook chicken—chicken split peas.

  When the chicken was served, Tom said, “You don’t cook chicken like this.” A few of the guests went on about how Loana’s chicken split peas were delicious. But Tom insisted that the chicken was really awful. Humiliated by Tom’s rudeness, Loana threw a plate at him. He ducked and laughed. But before he could make it up to her, Loana packed her bags and one of the guests drove her to her sister’s house on his Vespa.

  Now, there was a possibility the chicken was awful, as Loana wasn’t the good cook she is today. But, still, as far as Materena is concerned, when you love somebody, you don’t criticize their cooking and you don’t criticize the person you love in front of a whole bunch of people.

  Loana waited for Tom to come say pardon to her and she was going to say pardon to him. And then they would get together again.

  But he never came.

  Loana was devastated. And three weeks pregnant, though she didn’t know it.

  When Loana realized that there was a seed in her belly, she cried her eyes out. Her sister said, “I warned you against those people. Now look at you. What name are you going to put on that child’s birth certificate, eh? It’s going to be a bastard. Give it up for adoption. You’ve got no money, you’ve got no job, you’ve got no papers—you’ve got nothing. I told you. But you had to go shame yourself with a popa’a like there’s not enough local men for you to choose from.”

  Every time Loana cooks chicken split peas she thinks about Tom and their silly separation.

  Materena too—every time she cooks chicken split peas, she thinks about Tom and Loana and their silly separation.

  Materena was eight years old when she first saw her birth certificate and, on it, Father Unknown. She asked her mother, “You don’t know who my father is?”

  Loana got cranky. “What,” she said, “do you think I would open my legs for a man I don’t know? Of course I know the man who planted you.”

  Materena wanted a bit more information, but all Loana was prepared to reveal then was the man’s nationality. “He’s a popa’a—final point.”

  Materena was fifteen years old when she got to hear the whole story, and she cried because it felt strange for her to know about her father.

  She doesn’t have a photograph of him. There used to be a photograph of him in a swimming costume at the beach, but one of Loana’s lovers tore it to pieces because he was jealous. Loana must have told him how she’d loved Tom real bad.

  According to Loana, Materena has Tom’s almond-shaped brown eyes, and the dimple on her left cheek belongs to him too.

  Materena closes her eyes, and when she opens them, it is Saturday morning.

  The first thought that springs to her mind is about her wedding and how she will keep it quiet for a while. Materena doesn’t want her wedding to turn into a family circus, with relatives stressing her out regarding seating arrangements, etc. A wedding shouldn’t be about giving the bride stress, it should be a celebration. A new beginning.

  Kika

  Keeping a wedding a secret is like keeping any kind of secret. It’s not complicated. Basically, when you bump into a relative, you bite your tongue for a few seconds and hurry to make small conversation. So far, in the space of half a day, Materena has bumped into six relatives and told them nothing of her secret plan. When they asked her, “So, what’s the news?” she replied—with her normal voice—“There’s no news, Cousin. It’s still the same, and how’s everything with you?”

  Now, however, with her mother visiting, Materena is very tempted to exclaim, “Eh, Mamie! You’re never going to guess! Pito asked for my hand!” But Materena bites her tongue instead.

  Loana only meant to drop in at Materena’s house for five minutes (she was on her way home from a prayer meeting), but she ends up cuddling with her grandchildren on the sofa, and they watch Inspector Gadget on the TV. After the movie the children go to bed, and, since Pito has gone walkabout with his friend Ati, Loana decides to stay longer and keep her daughter company.

  “Pito and Ati, they’re like a married couple,” says Loana. Materena chuckles as she gets her mother a glass of red wine.

  They talk about plants, the funny weather, the traffic jam, menopause, and Loana drinks her glass of wine.

  And now Loana is going to talk about her mother, Kika, because she feels like talking about her mother, and Materena is going to listen.

  Tonight isn’t the first time that Loana has felt like talking about her mother, but tonight is the first time that Loana feels like recording herself talking about her mother. Materena takes down the radio from the top of the fridge and goes into her bedroom for batteries and a blank tape. Now the radio is on the kitchen table and Materena is waiting for her mother’s signal to press the record button.

  But first Loana wants a bit more wine. Materena gets the small flagon of red wine from the fridge and refills her mother’s glass. Loana drinks. There are tears rolling down her cheeks already. Just thinking about her mother makes Loana cry.

  Loana loved her mama—Materena knows this.

  It’s not unusual for Loana to go to the cemetery for a little talk with her mother any time of the day, even in the middle of the night. “I’m going to see Mama,” Loana will say, and off she’ll go and come back hours later. Some nights, Loana sleeps on her mother’s grave.

  There’s no more wine in the glass.

  “Ready?” Materena’s finger is on the button. Loana nods and Materena presses record.

  After a few minutes, Loana finally begins.

  “We are at the church and it’s the Communion. I can’t go and eat the body of Christ because I’m only five and I haven’t done my Communion yet. I stay seated and I look at the people lining up for the body of Christ. Mama too stays seated. She can’t eat the body of Christ because she’s living with a man who’s not her husband. Her husband, my father, he ran away to Tahiti with another woman, and Mama had to get another man to help her in the copra plantation. Mama isn’t looking at the people lining up for the body of Christ, she’s looking at her hands. Then she looks over to my stepfather, who’s sitting on the other aisle. Men and women sat in different aisles in the church those days. My stepfather seems to be looking at his hands too, but his eyes are closed, he’s tired.

  “I want to go to the toilet and it is night. The bathroom is far away from the house, past the pigsty, in the coconut plantation. I tell myself, Wait for the day, wait for the day, but I can’t wait for the day. Mama is sleeping and I wake her up.

  “I say, ‘Mama, my belly is hurting
.’ She says, ‘Ah hia,’ and I think that Mama isn’t going to get out of bed, but she does. She holds my hand as we walk to the toilet, and I’m not afraid. I feel protected.

  “Another time we are at Otepipi Isle, picking limes, but I get bored of picking the limes, I want to wander around. I wander around, then I step on something. I look down and I see three skulls. They are a bit covered by the grass, but I can see the skulls. I scream. Next second, my mama is by my side. There are scratches on her arms because she ran through the lime plantation. Mama hits me. Then she hugs me. I tell her about the skulls. She says, ‘Be more afraid of the living.’”

  Loana wants a refill. She drinks it in one gulp and continues.

  “It’s a while later and I’m coming up for my confirmation. We are sitting under the tau tree. Mama is looking for lice in my hair. There are no lice in my hair but Mama just has to keep her hands busy. She asks me questions and I answer. When the answer is correct, she says nothing. When the answer is wrong, she thumps me on the head or pulls a hair. It’s a great shame to fail the confirmation test and Kika doesn’t want any more shame than what her husband gave her when he ran off with another woman. I pass the confirmation test and Mama kisses me on the forehead. She says, ‘You made me very proud today.’”

  Loana wants another refill, but she doesn’t drink it. She just holds the glass.

  “Mama is leaving for Tahiti to go visit my older sister, and my stepfather is going back to his island to visit his relatives. Mama’s very good friend, Teva’s grandmother, is going to look after me. Mama is very happy. She hums. She counts the coins in the milk container she’s saved, money from working the copra plantation. Mama is going to buy my sister new dresses and I get jealous because I only have two dresses and they’re old. I’m also jealous because Mama doesn’t want to take me with her to Tahiti.

  “I cry when she gets on the schooner, and she turns her back to me. And Teva’s grandmother scolds me. She says, ‘Stop your crying.’ She tells me it’s safer for me to stay here because Kika will surely die if that titoi ever used the law to steal me like he stole my sister. I miss my mama. I think, What if she doesn’t come back? Teva’s grandmother is a really nice woman, but she’s not Mama.

 

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