Breadfruit

by Célestine Vaite

  “Have fun shopping,” Materena says after one more kiss on her nephew’s forehead.

  “Oh”—Giselle shrugs—“I wish.” She adds that she’ll probably end up paying for the phone bill because she wants the telephone connected in case there’s an emergency with her baby, like she needs to call an ambulance. One thing is for sure, though, the telephone will have a padlock on it and the key will be with Giselle twenty-four hours a day. She’s not paying for long-distance calls. She has enough bills coming out her ears.

  And, having given this insight into her poor financial situation, Giselle walks to the truck while Materena mentally erases her cousin from the list for the bed.

  Sexy Loving

  What about Rita? thinks Materena as she’s walking home. For sure, she’d love to be part of the contribution team, being Materena’s favorite cousin and everything. If she’s not chosen, she might actually be very offended. But, first of all, it might be a good idea to see what Rita thinks about wedding-gift lists.

  Some people prefer to surprise the bride. Now is a good time for Materena to inquire, since Rita is coming around for a while.

  Presently, the two cousins are soaking themselves in tubs filled with cool water, legs and arms dangling and bedsheets hanging on the line for privacy.

  “Rita,” Materena begins, “what —”

  But Rita has her own ideas for the topic of conversation. “Cousin,” she blurts out, interrupting, “I wanted caresses two nights ago.”

  Ah, okay. That kind of conversation. “With Coco?” Materena asks.

  Rita raises her penciled eyebrows. “Of course with Coco. What do you think?”

  Materena was just being curious. Sometimes it happens that a woman wants caresses from a man other than her man.

  “I decorated the bed with frangipani flowers,” Rita goes on.

  Materena chuckles. “Ah oui?”

  “I massaged my body with coconut oil. I combed my hair wild-style, put a bit of rouge on my cheeks, and sprayed eau de cologne behind my ears and on the pillows. Coco was watching the soccer match on the TV.”

  “Pito watched that soccer match too.”

  “Well, Cousin, it would have suited me more if there was a documentary on the TV instead of that soccer match. I waited for Coco to come to bed, I kept calling out, ‘Ouh-hou, Coco, I’m waiting for you, darling.’ But Coco was too hypnotized by the soccer match to hear my calling. After a while I got out of bed and marched to the living room. I paraded gracefully in front of the TV, and then I accidentally let my pareu slip away—to show off my oiled body. Coco didn’t even blink. So I said—with my sexy voice—‘Coco, my Coco.’ But he just waved for me to get out of the way.”

  “Ah non!” says Materena.

  “Ah oui! So I turned the TV off, and Coco ran to the TV and turned it back on. Then he said to me, ‘Are you going to let me watch my soccer match or what?’ Oh-la-la, I was so cranky, I tell you, Cousin. You know when you’re in the mood, you’ve got to be satisfied, eh?”

  “Ah oui, Cousin. You’ve got to have satisfaction.”

  “I went back to bed,” Rita continues, “and I waited for my Coco to come give me satisfaction. He cheered, and I cheered too. I wanted Faa’a to win, that way Coco would feel like celebrating.”

  There and then, Materena knows Rita didn’t get her satisfaction. Faa’a lost to Pirae by two scores. She knows this because Pito was in a bad mood all through the second half. He kept on swearing birds’ names, and at one point he got so angry with the players, he swore at Materena because her ironing was disturbing his concentration. She had to resume her ironing in the kitchen.

  Eh, but maybe Coco decided to forget the loss in the arms of Rita.

  “He came to bed in a bad mood,” Rita says. “I knew Coco was in a bad mood—all the swearing he did, all the thumping, and I thought, Ah, I’m going to give him a little head scratch and then he’s going to relax on me.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  “I scratched Coco’s head for about five minutes.” Rita glances at Materena and smiles. “Sexy scratching, of course.”

  “Yes, of course.” Materena smiles back at Rita.

  “I waited for Coco to attack me,” Rita goes on, “but there was no attacking and I was getting fiu of scratching Coco’s head, so I attacked Coco with kisses. I attacked for about two minutes, then I got fiu of kissing, so I got on top of Coco. And his moa, it was soft. He said to me, ‘I’m too sad about the match, Rita.’ And I said to him, ‘Okay, but tomorrow you better give it to me . . .’ But he didn’t give it to me last night.”

  “Eh, he was probably just tired, Cousin.”

  “I can’t believe Coco refused to give me satisfaction last night. He’s never refused to give me satisfaction in all the six months we’ve been together. I tell you, Cousin, there’s another woman feeding my Coco. My problem, Cousin, is that Coco is handsome. So many women look at him. They walk past and they turn around. They can’t help themselves, because, my Coco, he’s got beautiful eyes. So many women want my Coco. Sometimes I think I should have got myself a bald man.”

  “It’s hot, eh?” says Materena, trying to change the subject.

  But Rita doesn’t want to talk about the weather, she wants to talk about her Coco and how he didn’t give it to her last night. “I’m going to do some investigation, Cousin. That Coco better watch out, because if I find out that there is another woman, I’m going to give Coco the potion—there will be no hesitation.”

  “What potion are you talking about?” Materena is worried now.

  “The potion that makes the moa soft,” Rita says.

  “There’s such a potion?” asks Materena.

  “Ah oui. An old woman who lives in Taravao makes that potion. Lily told me about that old woman.”

  “Our cousin Lily?” Materena wants to make sure Rita is talking about their cousin Lily and not another Lily, because it seems so unlike their cousin Lily to use a potion that makes a moa soft. Lily is much more likely to be interested in a potion that makes the moa hard.

  “Yes, our cousin Lily,” says Rita. “Anyway, that old woman, she told me how when she was young she got hurt so bad by a man that she decided to dedicate her life to helping other women who get hurt by a man. That woman, she was in love with that man and he promised to marry her, but he married another woman instead. Her potions are cheap, and any woman can afford to buy them. You buy the potion in a bottle of whisky. You put two teaspoons of that potion in the beer for ten days and then the moa becomes soft… and it stays soft forever.”

  “The moa stays soft forever?”

  “Ah oui, for eternity, Cousin.” Rita nods several times to confirm this. “That Coco, he’s going to regret the day he decided to get himself another woman. What, I don’t feed him enough?”

  “Cousin, you feed Coco plenty,” Materena says, and she should know, since they talk about it often.

  “I tell you, Cousin, he better give it to me tonight… It’s his last chance.” Now Rita has a mean look on her face. “No sexy loving tonight, and I’m going to get that potion, give it to Coco for ten days, and then I’m going to burn all his clothes and get myself another man.”

  “You’re not going to do the investigation first?”

  “Ah non. It’s too hard to do the investigation. No sexy loving for me tonight equals soft moa for Coco for the rest of his life.”

  When Rita leaves, Materena is tempted to run to the telephone booth to contact Coco at his work and tell him that he better give Rita some sexy loving tonight, but… women’s talk is secret.

  On her way to the Cash & Carry store the next day, Materena can’t get Rita’s threat off her mind. Materena isn’t comfortable about Rita giving that potion to Coco. What if the potion made Coco have a heart attack? Rita might be charged with murder, and Materena with conspiracy. She has to ring Rita.

  Rita works at a shop where they sell fabric, and the person who owns the shop always answers the telephone because Rita is suppos
ed to be selling the fabric to the customers. And when you call Rita at her work, you have to tell the boss of the shop that you’re family and that your call is about something important regarding the family.

  “Hello, it’s Rita’s cousin here, and I have to talk to Rita now—it’s about the family.”

  “Don’t you two speak for too long.” The shop owner is quite abrupt.

  “Ah non, I only need to talk to Rita for one second.”

  “This is a business.”

  “Yes, okay.”

  Materena hears the shop owner yell at Rita to come to the phone, it’s her cousin and it’s about the family. Rita comes to the phone.

  “Rita, it’s me.” Materena knows the shop owner is looking at Rita. “Just say yes or no. Coco, did he give it to you last night?”

  “Ah oui, ten out of ten.” Rita sounds so happy today. “And tell Grandma I’m going to take her to the hospital for her checkup, okay? I go now, there’s customers.”

  Materena is relieved. Then she starts to laugh.

  That Rita, thinking her Coco has a mistress. Materena can’t imagine Coco doing the sexy loving with another woman. In fact, she can’t imagine Coco doing the sexy loving, full stop. The thing with Coco is that he’s quite large. Not just large—he’s massive. He must weigh over 280 pounds. His nickname, it’s Sumo. When Rita introduced Coco for the first time, Materena said to Rita, “Have you got eyes?” But it is Rita’s affair if she wants a sumo. Plus, Rita is quite large herself. She and Coco go well together. But it’s really funny to think about two sumos doing the sexy loving.

  And that Rita, she’s always on heat.

  Eh, that’s because she was thirty-two years old when she discovered the sexy loving—with Coco. Now she’s catching up for all those years when she was a virgin and her cousins were having babies.

  Tapeta

  Materena bumps into her cousin Tapeta outside the Cash & Carry just as they are getting their shopping carts to go inside. They give each other two kisses on the cheeks.

  “It’s hot, eh?” Tapeta says.

  “Ah oui, Cousin,” Materena agrees. “It’s hot.”

  “And you’re going to do some shopping?”

  “Oui, just a couple of things.”

  “Ah, me too. A few corned beef cans, toilet paper, soap.”

  “And how are the kids?” Materena asks.

  “My Rose, she wanted to play the piano,” Tapeta says.

  The piano! Materena thinks, but she best not sound too surprised about it. Tapeta might snap, “What is so surprising about my Rose wanting to play the piano?”

  “The piano?” Materena sounds interested.

  “Eh, it was a shock for me when Rose told me she wanted to play the piano. Well, Rose didn’t actually say to me, ‘Mama, I want to play the piano.’ She more said, ‘Eh, Mama, if I played the piano… eh, I like the music.’”

  This is strange, Materena thinks. We don’t listen to that kind of music and there are certainly no piano people in the family, and that’s going back one hundred years. We sing; we play the guitar and the ukulele.

  Well, Cousin Mori plays the accordion. He “found” an accordion in a truck when he was about twelve years old and took it home and taught himself to play. He’s very good at it.

  But nobody plays the piano. There must be some piano-music tapes at Tapeta’s house. In Materena’s opinion, you can’t want to play the piano if you’ve never heard the music or if you don’t have the musical instrument to play it with. Materena knows there’s no piano at Tapeta’s house, so since when do they listen to the piano music?

  “You listen to the piano music at your house?” Materena asks.

  Tapeta gives her cousin a funny look. “Us? Listen to the piano music? You’re laughing!”

  “How come Rose wanted to play the piano, then, if she’s never heard the music?”

  “Eh, you don’t need to hear the music to want to play. Like me, when I was little I wanted to play the violin and I’ve never heard the violin music.”

  “You wanted to play the violin!” This time, Materena shows her surprise.

  “Well oui.” Tapeta giggles. “But don’t tell anyone, eh? I’m embarrassed.”

  “Ah, okay. So Rose wanted to play the piano.”

  “Yes, my Rose, she wanted to play the piano. They have a piano at the school.”

  Ah, well, now Materena understands.

  Apparently, every lunchtime Rose would sit next to the piano-lesson room and listen to the enchanting music of the piano. They have piano lessons at that school if you’ve got money to pay for them. So Tapeta decided that her daughter was going to play the piano too.

  “You know I’m the kind of mother who’d do everything for my kids.”

  “Ah oui, I’m the same too,” Materena says.

  She could go on about all the things she does for her kids, but the story isn’t about her kids. It’s about Rose and that piano.

  “You know I don’t have much money.” Tapeta does her air of pity.

  “Yes, it’s the same for me too.” Materena also does her air of pity.

  “But when your kid wants—you try your best to give,” Tapeta says.

  “True, you’re a good mother, Tapeta.”

  “Thank you, Cousin. You too, you’re a good mother. We all know what you do for your kids.”

  Materena wants to ask for some examples, but it’s up to Tapeta to list the examples. You don’t just ask… But Tapeta isn’t going to list examples—she’s got her story to tell.

  “I got all dressed up and I went to the school office to get a bit of information about the piano lessons. I wore my matching blue long skirt and blouse. They’re my best clothes.”

  “I wear my best clothes too when I go to the school office to pay the school fees,” Materena says.

  “You should always wear your best clothes when you go to the school office.”

  “Ah, true. It’s all about presentation.” Materena checks on her chignon.

  “It’s fine to wear your pareu when you go to the school office to pay the school fees,” continues Tapeta. “But when you go to the school office to get a bit of information about the piano lessons, you have to look really presentable. Because, the piano lessons, they’re not for us people, they’re for the rich, so you have to look a bit rich.”

  Materena wants to say that it’s no use pretending you’re rich to the school office people, because they have information about everyone in their filing system. They know Tapeta is a cleaner at the hospital and that her man is a good-for-nothing. But Materena keeps her mouth shut because her cousin doesn’t like to be reminded that her man is a good-for-nothing, and she doesn’t like to be reminded that she’s a cleaner at the hospital. As far as Tapeta is concerned, she’s a nurse.

  “So, you told the school office people Rose wanted to play the piano?” asks Materena.

  “Non, I just asked for the price.”

  “And it was how much?”

  “Ten thousand francs—for the month.”

  “It’s not bad.”

  “It’s still a lot of money. I can feed my family for a whole week with ten thousand francs. That ten thousand francs missing, I felt it, let me tell you. We ate a lot of breadfruit.”

  “Breadfruit is nice,” says Materena.

  “Ah oui, I could eat breadfruit every day.”

  “Me too.”

  “It’s good to have a breadfruit tree.”

  “Ah oui, you can always rely on the breadfruit tree when money is a bit low.” Materena knows what she’s talking about.

  “I always tell the kids that when they buy a house, to check that there’s a breadfruit tree in the garden first. And even if the kids are just going to rent—they should check that there’s a breadfruit tree in the garden first.”

  “Rita and Coco did this when they were looking for a house to rent,” says Materena. “They checked the garden for a breadfruit tree first before checking the house. There are three breadfruit trees w
here they live now.”

  “Rita and Coco don’t need a breadfruit tree,” says Tapeta. “They’ve got money and no kids.”

  “Eh, Cousin”—now Materena is on the defensive—“just because you’ve got money and no kids, doesn’t mean you can’t eat breadfruit anymore. Rita, she loves breadfruit.”

  “I like breadfruit in the stew.” Tapeta is back to her breadfruit recipes.

  “Me too. I prefer breadfruit in the stew to potatoes.”

  “And barbecued breadfruit—it’s nice, eh, when the butter melts on the breadfruit.”

  “Fried breadfruit too, it’s nice.” Materena hopes this talk about breadfruit isn’t going to go on for hours. She’s getting hungry.

  “Baked breadfruit. I like breadfruit. It tastes nice and it fills the stomach quick. We ate a lot of breadfruit for Rose to play the piano.” Tapeta smiles for a while.

  “Aue,” she goes on. “My Rose, she didn’t believe me when I told her that she was going to learn to play the piano. I had to show her the official receipt for her to believe that her piano lessons weren’t an invention.”

  “She was happy, eh?”

  “Ah oui—she said to me, ‘Thank you, Mama,’ and when she said this to me, eh, I didn’t regret the ten thousand francs anymore—because when I found out about the price, I told myself, ‘Ten thousand francs!’ But then I told myself, ‘Eh, you’re going to be really proud when your daughter plays the piano. And what’s ten thousand francs? Money is just money—you spend. When you die, you can’t take money with you.’ And, Robert, he had the nerve to go cranky at me about that ten thousand francs, and you know what I said to him?”

  What could Tapeta have told Robert? Materena thinks for a few seconds. “Pack your bags and move back to your mama?”

  “But non, I didn’t say that! I just said, ‘Shut it.’”

  “Ah.”

  “It’s not his affair what I do with my ten thousand francs,” says Tapeta.

  “Ah oui, you work hard.”