‘For everytime you see a child that resemble yours, you going to start the bawling,’ him tell her. ‘And especially since you know how crazy Walter is, that alone will cause you to worry more and more. Sometimes you will want to jump on that plane so bad and come back, only ambition, plenty strength of heart, good friends and memory of Walter’s nasty ways will hold you back. Sometimes, Gwennie, you going to wonder if it’s really worth it, if maybe you mustn’t stop and try work out things with Walter and go back home to the children.
‘But Gwennie, if I know you like I think I know you, you are stubborn and strong, mule ownself. And if you suffer and go through what you go through with Walter, because of your plenty children, you can go through any damn thing.’
And when Gwennie think about it, Percy wasn’t too far off from the truth. Every time the young boys come to the house to visit the professor, she think about Rudi back home who can’t even start college sake of the responsibilities she hand him. She think about Jeff who want to turn doctor, Dave pilot and Del school teacher like herself. She isn’t even there to encourage them. And she can’t count on Walter. The evening them deliver the encyclopedia set she save up and buy so the children could have decent things to read, Walter was so mad with her, curse and quarrel the whole night about how she just wasting her money for him could use it on other things. But she never care. Every other evening she used to drill Del with spelling words so she could enter Spelling Bee. Now she don’t even think Walter talk to them much, probably only curse as usual whenever them come home with bad report cards.
The ringing of the telephone interrupted Gwennie’s thoughts.
‘Hello,’ Gwennie say into it.
Clive was on the line. On his way over.
‘Alright,’ Gwennie tell him. ‘But I don’t have anything readily prepared. Bring something if you hungry.’
The house was quiet again, except for the clock. Gwennie sigh long and hard and crawl back under the cover. She wasn’t in the mood for Clive or anybody, she was tired. She just want to lie down and rest and keep to herself, so her thinkings can flow.
She stay inside the bed about five more minutes, then she get up and turn on the light for the room was in complete darkness. She fold back the cover on the bed, neaten it up, change her clothes, haul on back her thick sweater for the house was chilly, and push her feet inside the house slippers with the fake fur around it. She brush up her hair and run little lipstick crossway her mouth, then she make her way back into the kitchen, flip on the light and start to put away the groceries.
Gwennie turn on the fire under the kettle. She might as well sip little Plantation Mint tea before Clive come over. It wasn’t as good as the mint Grandma grow in her garden, but it will pass. She turn on the thermostat too, for as big as Clive was, when it come to cold weather, him worse than baby. It was always summer over his house all year round. She remember the first time she meet him down at the Caribbean Club. Going on year and a half now. She remember liking him right away, for him could joke around plenty one minute, yet serious, sensible-talking, caring, interested in her children back home the next.
At first she used to laugh to herself every time him open his mouth. Him come from Trinidad and his accent was worse sing-song than hers. But she get used to it. She like the way him carry himself, too, always tidy, trousers always tuck in, shirts always clean and without stains. She like his big shoulders and wide chest, his round belly and deep voice that boom plenty. Him wasn’t bad looking either. Face long and narrow with a little tuft of moustache over his top lip resembling Hitler’s. Him was several years older, but a more kind and gentler man one couldn’t find. Him remind her a little bit of Percy and even Luther, the way him would show her how to do things and expect her to do it on her own after that. The only thing she didn’t like much is the way him pressure her sometimes.
Gwennie was still sitting down around the table sipping her tea when Clive ring the door bell. She turn up the thermostat one notch more on her way to open the door.
‘Jesus Christ, Gwennie, why the blasted house so damn cold,’ Clive boom out, fitting himself through the door. ‘You not cold?’ Him touch her nose with the back of his hand.
Gwennie draw back. ‘How many times I must tell you to stop bawl out the Lord’s name in vain?’
‘Cho,’ him kiss his teeth. ‘You too Christian-Christian.’
‘I turn on the heat, it soon come up.’ She lock the door behind him and follow him into the kitchen.
‘I didn’t bring any food,’ him say, pulling up a chair next to hers. Him wouldn’t allow her to take his jacket. ‘We can go out and get something. A nice little rest . . .’
‘I don’t want to go out, Clive.’ She hand him a mug-full of tea. ‘I just want to stay in and rest. I tired. I can’t wait for the children to come so the older ones can help me work. I tired to hassle out meself.’
Clive take a sip of the tea. Then him put down the mug, watching his reflection swirling round and round. ‘You wouldn’t have to work so hard if you come live with me.’ The heat start to come up, the heaters were cling-clanging.
Gwennie take a deep breath. She could feel a little twinge of pain in her back. She try relax. ‘Don’t bother start with that again, Clive. How many times I must tell you I want something for me children and meself. I live with husband too long. When them own everything in the house, them think them can own you too. Them boss-boss you around as them have a mind. I want a different life. I didn’t come all the way to Foreign to put up with the same damn foolishness.’
Clive was still looking at his reflection. ‘You mean that after how long you know me, you think me and you husband cut out of the same piece of cloth?’ Clive’s voice was losing the boom. Now it was just deep and low. ‘You must know that I’m different.’
‘Of course I know you different.’ Gwennie pour more water in her cup. ‘But I want to live as I please. I want to come and go as I have a mind. I working hard for good reason. So me and me children can live in peace and quiet. When I was doing community work, I used to see baby’s belly push out from lack of food, for the worthless father done lose his paycheck to gambling. I see plenty women with faces hang down almost to the ground, for family life giving them hell. I go through it, I don’t want it any more.’
Clive never say anything. Only the clock and the heater making noise. Gwennie sip her tea. She like Clive plenty. But him don’t understand. Him can’t understand where she coming from. Him don’t talk much about his wife, but sometimes she wonder if him is another Walter, and that’s why the wife leave him. No, him don’t go on like Walter. Him don’t even drink. But him not a God-fearing a tall, and that bother her plenty. Nevertheless, him is a good man and she like him. But as Grandma used to say, to know dog is one, but to live at home with him is different business.
‘Come we go to the restaurant.’ Gwennie cover his hand with hers. ‘Maybe we can even see a picture after. Some good ones advertise in here.’ She push the newspaper towards him. ‘Look for a good one. I going to get me jacket and put on me shoes.’
Gwennie put the two cups inside the sink. Clive’s cup did still have plenty tea inside. She turn on the tap and rinse them out. Then she step inside her room for the house key and rest of things. She know him vex now. It happen every time them talk about living together. It going to take a whole heap of coaxing before she get him to start talk and liven-up again.
‘You ready?’ she call out, putting on her coat, switching off the bedroom light.
‘Yes.’ His voice almost faint now.
‘Come on, then. Leave on the kitchen light. I don’t want damn thief to break in and take out what I don’t have.’
Them step outside into the chilly night air, the heater and the clock making plenty noises behind them.
II
Daybreak Saturday morning catch Gwennie at the bus stop waiting with four other women, for the bus that would take them to do day’s work in Simsbury. Gwennie recognize one or two of the women, f
or she see them every Saturday morning. She nod her head in greetings, ready to start up a conversation, but them only nod in return, face stoney, the duffle bag that contain the extra pair of flat shoes and old frock that best to do house work in, hang off firm from them shoulder.
The one woman she talk to plenty, from Montserrat, Miss Daphne, wasn’t there that morning. Usually while waiting for the bus, Miss Daphne would always write down names of West Indian stores where Gwennie can get food to buy. Miss Daphne is a woman who like her Caribbean food gone-to-bed. She say she can’t stand American food a tall, it’s too bland.
‘Me dear, I have to boil-up plenty green bananas and yam and eat it with mackerel mix-up with onion and baby red tomatoes before I can step outside the house each morning,’ Miss Daphne tell Gwennie one morning while waiting. ‘I too used to the big strong breakfast to turn around and eat cereal and dry bread. I would drop down dead from hungry belly.’
Gwennie only laugh when Miss Daphne say it, for she wonder if after living in America for twenty years like Miss Daphne, she going to still love the food from back home. Hardly a day pass when Samuel and Dorothy don’t cook Caribbean food. Only Clive alone not too fussy. Him eat anything when him hungry, pasta, lasagne, turkey pot pie . . . Gwennie’s mind run on last night. She wonder how much longer she and Clive will make out. Seems as if them quarrelling more than usual these days. Gwennie kiss her teeth under her breath.
It was only after plenty coaxing inside the car, that him finally turn back around to his old talkative self again. Them never bother with the movies, since dinner ran late. Clive drive her home, instead. And all through the driving back him was lively, and she was feeling more and more happy and comfortable with him. But then the silence start again when him turn off the main road and onto her little street at the foot of the hill, with the sad-looking houses on each side. Him cut off the engine when him reach her gate. The car was silent, except for the fan inside the hood humming. The street was dead.
‘Thanks for the dinner.’ Gwennie fasten the buttons on her coat. ‘I glad we decided to go out after all. The food tasted good in truth.’ Gwennie pull up the lock on the door of the big, silver-grey Buick.
Clive never say anything.
‘You busy tommorrow?’ Gwennie look towards him, but she couldn’t make out his features inside the darkness of the car.
Clive sigh. It was a long time before him answer. ‘You want me to come inside with you, Gwennie?’ His voice sounded gruff, as if preparing for some major disappointment.
Gwennie bend over and start to feel for her pocket book. It couldn’t be too far away, she just take out her house key. She wasn’t quite sure how to answer Clive when him get like this, demanding-like even though it don’t quite sound that way. For is not that she didn’t want him to come in and sleep with her, but sometimes that is all she want, somebody to lay down close to and hug, so that when she turn during the night, or when she wake up in the morning, the bed won’t feel so big and wide. But she won’t even bother to fool herself and think she will only get closeness. Is long time she in this world. She know which package come with string and which one empty.
And is not that anything was wrong with the string. For as far as she was concerned, except for the ring around her finger and the people gathered inside the church that Saturday afternoon, and the certificate down at the registry, she and Walter finish. As far as she was concerned, she single. And is not that it take her almost four years in Foreign to find out. She did know long time. She did know from the time she set eyes on Luther and lay up with him inside Grandma’s house. She did figure it out then that she and Walter didn’t have further to go.
But she did still go back to him and start to have more children. Maybe to try and build back something, maybe to just do her duty as wife, maybe to save face, she can’t place her two hands on it right now. But in the middle of everything she still wasn’t at ease with herself. The meetings used to help, them used to keep her busy, but at nights she did still have to go home to him. And his every touch used to cause her skin to bringle and his presence made her face fold up and his chuckle never cause her belly to shimmer anymore, instead it add one more crease to her forehead and squeeze out one more hiss through her teeth.
With Clive it was different. She know him would be good with Rosa if not the others. But what she can’t understand is how her belly bottom always feel funny when Clive inside her house. Sometimes when him inside her bed, she can’t sleep good. Plenty times at night, she wake up, twisting and turning, wondering what Dorothy and Samuel think about she and Clive. If Grandpa was to hear about Clive, what him would think. It embarrass her to tell them Clive stay over sometimes. And it don’t even make sense, for the house belong to her and she neither have children or husband or friend to report to. But she still feel shame, nonetheless.
Gwennie turn around in the seat and face Clive. She could make out one half of his Hitler-looking moustache.
‘Clive.’ Gwennie’s voice was soft. ‘Is not that I don’t want you to come inside. I just don’t want what come with that. I tired and I have to get up early in the morning. Maybe Saturday night. But I don’t know. I want to get up early Sunday morning and watch Billy Graham on the TV, and then catch a early morning service at church.’ Gwennie pause. She push her finger under the latch and pull it. The car door creak open. Cold air burn her face.
‘I will call you tomorrow from work.’ Gwennie put one of her hands over Clive’s. It lay rigid on his lap. ‘Take care.’
Still, Clive never say a word. His hand never even twitch under her touch.
Gwennie lift up herself out the car and slam the door shut, house key ready in her hand. She didn’t want to look back at Clive, she could just imagine the sadness on his face. She let herself inside and lock the door behind her. The house was nice and warm just like inside Clive’s car.
Clive’s car was still outside when Gwennie finish brush her teeth and turn down the little button on the thermostat. Even after switching off the kitchen light, turning off the lamp in her room, setting the alarm clock on her bureau and climbing underneath her comforter, she still never hear the engine start up. Not even when she doze off. And Gwennie have a dream that night, not a long one, but disturbing enough to leave her restless the remainder of night, and thinking plenty about her relationship with Clive.
In the dream, all the children were here, except Peppy. She and Clive was getting on well. She was only working one job now, for Del and Rudi was working. Clive used to come over plenty. But she would never allow him to stay over, for she never want to set bad example. But anyway, it so happen that one Saturday night Clive did have to stay over. But she was careful, she make sure him sleep out on the couch. The house did have plenty more furniture by then.
Rudi went out the same Saturday night and didn’t return till early the Sunday morning, day barely dawning. And the first sight that greet him, when him step inside the house, was Gwennie and Clive sitting close around the enamel table and sipping mint tea. Gwennie was still in her night clothes and Clive was only in pants and undershirt, no shoes in sight. The house was quiet. Everybody else was sleeping. Outside birds chirp noisily.
Gwennie take a big mouthful of the tea, for all of a sudden, her stomach was feeling poorly. And Rudi just brush pass them in a gale of coolness, forehead knit-up, face tight, no utterance of a greeting whatsoever. Something about the expression on his face remind Gwennie of Walter.
For the remainder of week, Gwennie and Rudi don’t exchange five words total. Him tell her ‘howdy’ in the morning and evening as usual, but when him say it, them eyes don’t meet. Gwennie look up in his face, but Rudi’s eyes seem to always lodge themselves somewhere far pass her head-back, the scowl on his face overbearing. Him used to sit down at the kitchen table and eat dinner with her. Used to tell her stories about the people back home, the ones him work with at the import company, and the ones him encounter on the train. But these days not a word between the two.
&nb
sp; She decide to tackle him about it, for she couldn’t stand the silence any longer. So one evening as him sit down comfortable and was starting to eat, she approach him. She could feel the tension thick in the room. Her own belly was weak from the thought of confronting him. But she carry on nonetheless, for it was better to nip it in the bud now, than to wait till it grow out of proportion. ‘Then Rudi,’ she start out, her voice poorly, ‘why you won’t talk to me, man.’
Rudi lodge a spoonful of rice in his jaw corner, forehead wrinkle-over.
‘How you expect me to live?’ Gwennie continue on. ‘You don’t expect me to have friends? You expect me to be by meself. You expect me to be lonesome all the time.’ Gwennie’s voice was starting to rise little by little. ‘I notice how you children treat him. Whenever him come over, everybody clear the room. Nobody anxious to see him.
‘Del don’t talk to him, you don’t talk to him, only Rosa talk to him. She alone respect and act decent towards him. The other day him was over here watching TV, and Dave did have the music up loud in his room. Him knock on the door and politely ask Dave to turn it down a little. Dave tell him to go to his own house and watch TV if him want peace and quiet.’ Gwennie pause to catch her breath. ‘What kind of behaviour is that? I don’t know how we going to manage, you know, for all you children will have to get used to me friends. If is Walter you children miss, you all can go back home to him, but him not going to come here and bother me peace . . .’
The alarm clock did go off same time, leaving everything fresh-fresh on her mind.
Gwennie notice the women starting to shuffle around. The bus was coming. She shuffle around her bag too and join the line them form. She hope Bob was driving this morning for she like him. Gwennie wait till the other women get on. Then she climb up. It was Bob own self.
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