Breadfruit

by Célestine Vaite

  “Why would I tease him?” Loana snaps. “A totem is a totem! Think before you speak, Materena!”

  Okay, Materena can see that her mother is in a slightly snappy mood tonight, so she serves her a nice glass of wine.

  Loana and Materena are still at the kitchen table, drinking, with the kids in bed, when Ati makes an appearance.

  Ati is Pito’s best friend. Ati used to regularly visit Pito, but recently he got involved in politics. These days Ati is so busy with Oscar Temaru’s independence party that he doesn’t even have time to look for a woman.

  Now, there’s something you must know about Ati.

  Ati was crazy about a woman a while ago and there was talk of a church marriage, but Ati’s woman went out dancing at the Zizou Bar one night and met a legionnaire. Within two months of the meeting and after many secret rendezvous, the pair got married and flew to France.

  Ati only became cranky at the popa’a after that episode. They hadn’t bothered him much before.

  Ati started to hang around with a few mates outside the Zizou Bar to pick fights with the militaire. Pito didn’t participate because he didn’t want to be seen hanging outside that bar.

  Ati got in trouble with the gendarmes a few times and then his mama got really cranky at him and made him swear on top of his dead grandmother’s head to stop picking on the militaire.

  And it was then that Ati discovered politics and joined Oscar Temaru’s independent political party.

  The Oscar Temaru political party has organized an independence rally for tomorrow afternoon. They’re all going to grab their brooms and go sweep the road. The sweeping is supposed to symbolize getting rid of those French popa’a, those invaders, those wicked people.

  This is the reason Ati is here tonight. When Pito appears from reading his latest Akim comic, Ati asks Pito to be involved with this very important rally. Pito says, “Mate, I don’t even sweep around the house, and you want me to go and sweep the bloody road?”

  Ati asks Materena, who says, “Ati, you don’t think I do enough sweeping as it is?”

  And so Ati asks Loana, because it is his job to get as many sweepers as he can for tomorrow.

  Loana looks deep into Ati’s eyes. “Ati, you tell me why I should grab my broom and go sweep the road with you lot tomorrow, and then I’m going to give you my decision.”

  Materena, who is sitting opposite Ati at the kitchen table, makes signs to him to change the subject. It’s not recommended, talking politics with Loana, especially the politics of independence.

  Loana worships Gaston, the president of the territorial government. She queued three times to see him at the Territorial Assembly sixteen years ago. The first day she got there, it was five thirty in the morning and there were already about twenty-five people waiting to see Gaston. In those days, if you wanted to see Gaston, you just went to the Territorial Assembly and waited in line, no appointment was required.

  Anyway, Loana didn’t get to see Gaston on the first day. On the second day, she got to the Territorial Assembly at four thirty in the morning, but again she was too late. So on the third day, she arrived at three o’clock and she was granted a meeting with Gaston for nine o’clock.

  Loana explained to him her trouble, which had to do with a legal bill she couldn’t pay. Gaston got on the phone to his secretary and the secretary issued a special paper to Loana to give to the lawyer.

  And since that day, Loana has worshipped Gaston. She’s even got a few election T-shirts with a picture of her hero on them.

  There’s no way she’s going to grab her broom and go sweep the road for Oscar Temaru, even if he is a distant relative—because she promised herself to remain true to Gaston till her death. And, anyway, Oscar irritates her.

  Materena knows talking about Oscar’s party to Loana is only going to end up in a heated argument, and Materena doesn’t want a heated argument in her kitchen.

  She wouldn’t have minded so much if it were the afternoon and they were drinking cordials, but it is nine thirty at night—and they’ve been drinking lots of cheap red wine.

  Ati takes a long slug of his red wine, Loana takes a long sip of her red wine. Materena is still trying to get Ati’s attention, but he ignores her.

  Pito says, “Relax, Materena.”

  Ati fires away. “When pai France needed patriots during the two World Wars, eh, we volunteered, yes, we volunteered to defend la patrie, because that is what you do when la patrie needs you—true?”

  “Ati,” Loana snaps, “just talk, don’t ask me questions.”

  “Oui, I was saying, la patrie called out for help and we responded, and by the thousands, but when it was us who called out to la patrie, la patrie did the deaf trick on us.”

  Ati goes on about how when it was officially announced that Mururoa Atoll was chosen as the nuclear testing base in 1963, the Polynesian people said no. France told us that Tahiti would play an important role in the project. Again, we said no. The Port de Papeete would be modernized. No.

  Everything would be of great value to Tahiti. Non—aita! Aita!

  According to Ati, we never wanted the bomb. We formed parties to express our discord and anger. And every day more and more people joined the protest, and more, and more… But one day, President de Gaulle (Ati calls him titoi de Gaulle) made use of a twenty-seven-year-old law that “forbade all associations or groups whose aim is to assault the National Territory.”

  Ati puts his head down and sighs. “And these bastards exploded their bomb in our country.” Ati lifts his eyes to the ceiling. “Our country!”

  Another sigh from Ati. “France gave us money to shut our big mouths… and too many of us accepted, and since then we’re all foutue. The whole lot of us. Foutue.”

  But.

  Ati smiles and explains that he has a vision (which he got from Oscar), and that is to get rid of all the popa’a and to live like we used to live, yes, we will plant our own food, we will fish, we will live simply. Happily. Independently.

  Ati bangs his fist on the table and gulps more wine.

  There’s a long silence and everyone is waiting for Loana to fire back. Materena gets busy putting the flagon of wine away on top of the fridge.

  Loana looks at Ati as if she were a schoolteacher, and he her student. “Ati, your mother, she still cooks for you and she’s still cleaning up after you, oui?”

  “Oui, and… ,” Ati begins, puzzled. “What does my mama have to do with independence?”

  Loana gets to her feet. It’s late and she’s going home, but there’s one thing she must tell Ati before she leaves. “Independence, my arse.”

  Loana is gone and Materena clears the table, except for Ati’s glass. Pito, he’s got a beer. Ati and Pito are now talking about boats and fish, their usual topics of conversation, but Materena knows that when she’s not around, Ati and Pito talk about women. Well, Ati does the talk about women and Pito listens. It’s late and Materena would like Ati to go home, and so she grabs the broom and begins to sweep underneath the table. That is the polite way to let people know that they should make a disappearance. Nobody’s feelings are hurt then. The broom touches Ati’s feet, meaning, can you go now? But Ati lifts his feet up and smiles at Materena.

  “You know what your mother said about me living with my mama,” he says.

  “Oui, Ati.” Materena doesn’t sound interested.

  “I’m not going to live with my mama for the rest of my life,” Ati continues.

  “Good for you,” Materena replies absently. She likes Ati, but she sometimes finds him a bit annoying, with all his stories about women. At least he doesn’t come around as often as he used to.

  “As soon as I find myself a woman”—Ati goes on looking at Materena—“a woman I really care about, I’m going to marry her.”

  “Eh what?” Materena is so shocked to hear Ati mention marriage. “You? Married?”

  “Oui. As soon as I find the right woman for me,” Ati says.

  Pito coughs, and gulps his
beer. Materena puts her broom away and sits at the table, facing Ati.

  “Are you serious, Ati?” she asks.

  “Ah oui, Materena. I want kids, I want my own house. I want a wife.”

  Pito shuffles his feet uneasily.

  Materena rests her head in her hands and looks at Ati straight in the eyes for a long time. She didn’t know that side of Ati existed. The Ati she knows is a man who can’t stay with a woman for more than two weeks, a man who doesn’t want kids, a man who likes to show off his speedboat to Pito. She’s never understood Ati’s popularity with women, as she doesn’t find him that nice to look at, but tonight, as her eyes meld into Ati’s eyes, she can see why women would throw themselves at him. And she’s thinking, Eh, he’s not bad-looking at all, Ati. She chuckles inside as she remembers the wink Ati gave her that first day when he came to the snack with Pito. It is such a long time ago. She was sixteen years old.

  “I just have to wait to meet that woman,” Ati says.

  “You will meet that woman.” Materena gives Ati a tender smile. “And Pito?” she asks. “Is he going to be the best man?” She certainly wouldn’t mind Ati being the best man at Pito’s wedding.

  “Woman,” Pito snaps, “the way you’re talking, Ati is getting married tomorrow.”

  “Pito?” Ati asks. “You want to be the best man at my wedding?”

  “What is this?” Pito looks like he can’t believe his ears. He gets up. “I’m going to bed.”

  Ati rises to his feet to leave too.

  “Ah, come on, Ati,” Materena says. “Stay. You don’t have to go just because Pito is going to bed.”

  “It’s okay, Materena, I’m going to my cousin’s house for a birthday party.” Then, looking at Pito: “You want to come too, or are you going to bed?”

  “Sure.” Pito isn’t tired anymore. “I won’t be long,” he says to Materena.

  Materena, smiling, waves Pito away.

  It’s the Rope Around the Neck

  It is nine o’clock the following morning. Materena is walking past the church on her way home from the Chinese store, and there’s a wedding going on there. Materena goes up to the church and peers through the louvers.

  The bride is young and beautiful. Her wedding dress must have cost a lot, there’s about twenty yards of lace and she’s veiled. These days a veil doesn’t mean virginity, of course. Her mother probably insisted on it.

  The young woman whispers into the microphone her sacred vows to love, cherish, and obey the man standing beside her. The priest pronounces the two people husband and wife. Before God, before the law, before him. Husband and wife give each other a shy kiss, no doubt they’ll get more passionate later on. Holding hands, and walking slow steps, they make their way out of the church. Most of the women in the congregation are dabbing their eyes. One woman sitting at the front cries loud tears—the bride’s mother, for certain.

  Petals of roses and grains of rice greet the newly wed couple outside.

  Materena thinks she should probably go home now. Pito will be waiting impatiently for his hangover cure of roast-beef slices and lemonade, and, besides, she’s wearing an old pareu and an oversize T-shirt, and people are starting to give her strange looks.

  But the church is a public place and she’s not being a nuisance. She just wants to see the married couple drive off in their bridal car.

  “Materena! Materena, girl!”

  Materena looks at the woman sitting at the steering wheel of the bridal car. “Eh!” she calls out, recognizing Mama Teta under the makeup. “It’s you, the driver?”

  “What’s happening with the friend of your boss?” Mama Teta calls back. “What’s taking so long? Is she still getting married, or has she pissed her man off?”

  Materena can’t believe Mama Teta’s language sometimes. “The marriage is for very soon!” she calls.

  The bride and the groom make their way to the bridal car, and Mama Teta is back in business. She toots the horn and the crowd cheers.

  Materena waves good-bye to the happy couple, thinking, Soon it’s going to be Pito and me in that bridal car.

  Last night, after Ati told Materena about his desire to get married, she got really fired up about the wedding. She fell asleep thinking, Ati, he just can’t get married before Pito.

  Materena hurries home. As soon as she gets there, she’s going to say to Pito: “When do you want to go to church to marry me?” She’ll get the date and then she’ll advise everyone of her marriage, starting with her mother.

  Pito is not pleased she took so long to go to the store. “Did you go to France for that lemonade?”

  Materena laughs. “Ah hia hia, stop your complaining.”

  Pito’s on the sofa resting his eyes, a wet towel on his forehead—his head is sore. Materena tends to him lovingly, pouring his lemonade and serving him his beef slices.

  Materena looks at Pito, who’s hammering into the beef slices.

  “Pito.” Her voice is so tender.

  “Don’t ask me to do anything,” Pito growls.

  Materena suggests that she make him an omelette. She knows Pito is always very hungry after a night on the booze. She also knows that it is no use to talk about serious matters with Pito when he’s hungry and with a hangover.

  “Ah oui, okay, thanks,” Pito says.

  Materena’s in the kitchen beating the eggs for Pito’s omelette when the bridal horn sounds again in the distance. She stops beating the eggs, smiles, and says, “Happiness to you two.”

  Pito’s comment is loud and clear. “You bloody fools! Go hang yourselves!”

  He goes on about how marriage is not for him: “Marriage—it’s the rope around the neck,” he grumbles.

  The rope around the neck! Materena shouts in her head. This is what marriage means to you? The rope around the neck?

  Materena, very angry now, cooks the omelette and eats it herself, thinking, The day I want that wedding, Pito better marry me! The day I want that ring on my finger and that marriage certificate on my wall, I’m not going to take no for an answer! And the children can pay for a wedding reception for their hardworking mother. I deserve a reception at the hotel by the beach—with a live band.

  Pito calls out to Materena, “Eh, what’s happening with that omelette? Did you go to the farm to get the eggs?”

  Materena finishes the omelette and gets up.

  “Materena!”

  She washes the plate.

  “Materena, darling!”

  “Ah… mamu.” Materena goes outside to rake some leaves.

  The Old Girlfriend

  Materena is still outside raking the leaves (angrily, so angrily that the children are staying out of her way, quietly playing marbles) when she feels Rita calling out to her: Materena, Cousin!

  Go to the telephone booth! I desperately need to talk to you!

  Rita’s call is strong, very strong, and sad too. This is definitely not a happy calling. Materena puts her rake down. Sometimes you’ve got to put your own trouble aside. Materena hurries inside the house.

  “Where’s my omelette, chérie?” asks Pito, still resting his eyes on the sofa.

  Materena fires a cranky look at Pito, gets her purse, and changes her T-shirt, and she’s off to the telephone booth.

  There’s a young man in the telephone booth, and Materena sits on the curb and waits. Ten minutes later, the young man is still talking and Materena is starting to get annoyed. Always when you need to make an urgent call, she thinks, there’s somebody in the telephone booth. Materena gets up to stand by the telephone booth. That way the young man will know she also needs to use the telephone. The young man looks at Materena and turns his back to her.

  He puts more coins in.

  Materena opens the door. “Are you going to be long? I need to call my cousin, it’s urgent.”

  The young man turns around. “I’m talking to my girlfriend!”

  “How long are you two going to talk for?” Materena is asking nicely so that the young man won’t
think that she’s trying to kick him out of the telephone booth.

  The young man looks like he can’t believe his ears. “Why? You own the telephone?”

  “Just give me an approximate time,” Materena replies, keeping calm.

  “I’m going to talk until I’m sick of talking!”

  And the young man says to his girlfriend, “There are some people in this world. No respect for the people who are on the telephone.”

  The young man closes the door on Materena.

  Materena realizes that there is no point in waiting for the telephone to be available, because when a young man talks to his girlfriend, the conversation can go on for hours. Why don’t they just meet somewhere to talk? thinks Materena, and stomps off.

  Materena hurries to the airport, where there is more than one telephone booth available, and she’s remembering that movie she saw on the TV a few weeks ago.

  The movie began with a man who had a gun in his mouth, about to pull the trigger, but the telephone rang. The man looked at the telephone and waited for the ringing to stop so that he could concentrate on killing himself. But the telephone rang and rang and rang. The man couldn’t stand the ringing any longer. He answered with the gun still in his mouth.

  It was an ex-girlfriend from a long time ago, calling him for help. “Please help me find my son,” she said. “He’s seventeen years old soon and he ran away.”

  The man said, “Excuse me? Who am I talking to?” The woman gave her name and the man immediately remembered her.

  “He’s your son too,” the woman cried. “I beg you to help me.”

  The man who had wanted to commit suicide took the gun out of his mouth and put it on the desk.

  Materena is all puffed when she gets to the airport, but there’s no time to catch her breath. She immediately barges into a telephone booth and dials Rita’s number, but Rita is not answering. Rita’s telephone is still ringing when Materena remembers the code. Rita came up with the code about three months ago. When Materena calls Rita, she must let the telephone ring three times, then hang up. She must do this twice in a row and then Rita will know it is Materena calling her.