Me Dying Trial

by Patricia Powell

  The remainder of week, she register Rosa and Dave in school, bring the other children downtown to show them around, and so by Monday morning when she started off to work at the hospital, Rosa started off at Eliot’s elementary, Dave was waiting to hear from the Youth Program up in Springfield, and Rudi and Delores knew where to find the grocery store in order to buy the newspaper and scour it for work.

  IV

  As the spring months began to get warmer, and the snow wasn’t as plentiful, and the trees were starting to look green again, and Rosa started to make friends at school, according to the report from her first grade teacher, and Delores and Rudi found work, and Dave was calling home every weekend complaining about the food and his two roommates, Rudi and Gwennie were starting to fall out. Delores was well into the church now. She’d been going for four months straight, never yet missing one meeting or late for any. But it was a totally different story with Rudi.

  Him went the first two weeks, then never again. Him didn’t even turn the black of his eyes to look at Mr Cruise’s phone number, who call and leave messages just about every day begging him to come, the new voice is desperately needed. Sunday mornings when everybody else get up and start to fix-up for church, not so with Rudi, him was just ready to pull up the comforter over his head, stretch out his two feet, and settle back into sleep.

  One Saturday night about nine-thirty as she hear him starting to get ready to go out, she make her way over to his room and seat herself on his bed. She wasn’t quite sure how to begin, for them almost like strangers these days. She’d ask Clive if him could please talk to Rudi, but that only made matters worse. Rudi told Clive plain and simple to please stop interfering and trying to run his life, for Clive not his father. Sunday mornings Gwennie curse and quarrel, but it didn’t matter. Rudi refuse to pay her a drop of mind. She didn’t quite know exactly what to say to him as she watch him in the doorway of his closet, pondering his attire for tonight’s party.

  ‘You hear from Peppy, lately?’ She decide to start off with a bit of pleasantry.

  Rudi didn’t turn around. Him barely grind out a ‘no’. Gwennie wasn’t sure if him hear or not.

  ‘I get a letter from Aunty Cora,’ Gwennie tell him. ‘She say the eye operation didn’t last long a tall, that the eyes worse than ever now.’ Gwennie stop, waiting for a response. She continue on. ‘She say Peppy helping her out plenty, though. But she don’t like the company Peppy hanging around with these days.’ Gwennie pause again and shift round restless on the bed. Rudi pick out a pair of trousers and match them against two shirts.

  ‘She say her son Buddy from England came out and caused quite a stir in her life, rise-up her blood pressure and almost cause her relapse. She say him ask to see the will. And when him see that him only get the church and few heads of cow, while Peppy get the house, Leslie the shop and few acres of land, George and Miss Gertie get land too and a cow each, him started to go on real bad, demanding that she change the will right away. I don’t know what she ended up doing, but Mama will soon write.’ Gwennie stop to catch her breath.

  ‘So where you going, tonight?’ Her voice did have a calm and softness she didn’t quite feel inside her belly. She could hear the hangers clinching against the steel railing in the closet, as Rudi pick through the row of clothes hang up, and the tap inside the bathroom dripping. She’s been asking him going on two weeks now to pick up a washer at the lumber place, but it seems as if she might have to do it herself, for Rudi wasn’t showing any interest in the running of the house.

  ‘Party,’ him sigh out loud.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Downtown. Friend’s house.’

  ‘Which friend?’

  Rudi turn around to look at her for the first time, forehead crease-up, eyes narrow. ‘What you mean which friend?’ His voice was sharp.

  ‘Church friend, work friend, friend friend?’ Gwennie’s voice rose to the occasion.

  ‘Work friend.’ Rudi back off.

  ‘So when you think you will come in? I was hoping all of us could go to church tomorrow and . . .’

  ‘Church, church, church,’ Rudi fling down the shirt in his hand and slam the closet door. ‘That’s all I hear in this damn house, day in and day out. ‘Mama, when you plan to stop nag-nag me about church.’

  ‘Please don’t raise your voice to me, sir. Me and you not the same size. Tomorrow I want the whole house to go to church. I don’t know where you and Dave get this nasty habit from. The man call here every day about the choir. But you’re not interested in God, you’re interested in party and friends. You don’t even invite Delores. You don’t tell anybody about your friends, you don’t invite them over or anything. You just come to America, you don’t know what America gives, but every night you pick up your tail and go to party. Your Bible sitting down in the kitchen catching dust.’

  By this time Rudi did have on his clothes and was combing his hair. Him rush inside the bathroom and haul on his trousers. Gwennie was inside the room same way when he came out ready to put on his shoes.

  ‘I won’t tell you that you can’t go out,’ Gwennie tell him as him pick up his keys ready to leave, ‘but we leaving here tomorrow morning eight o’ clock, sharp.’ She brush pass him out the room, her breath coming out light and fast. She didn’t know the day would come when she and Rudi would come to this.

  V

  Gwennie heard the phone ringing early the Sunday morning, but she was too tired to reach over and pick it up. Seven o’ clock Sunday morning when she wake up and start to prepare breakfast, she still didn’t hear any stirring coming from out Rudi’s room, but she was determined not to wake him. Twenty minutes to eight, she and Rosa and Delores eat breakfast in silence for she wasn’t going to ask any questions, and Delores, who was half asleep when she pick up the phone and wasn’t really sure if she’d talk to him or not, didn’t remember to tell Gwennie that Rudi called to say him wasn’t coming home that night.

  Eight-fifteen when them pick up the bus at the foot of Evelyn Street, Gwennie sigh throughout the entire twenty-five minutes bus ride. Several times Rosa have to stop and ask her, ‘Mama, what’s the matter?’ But Gwennie just shake her head, lips clamp shut. The letter she receive from Grandma not too long ago was still dancing around in her head, for Grandma tell her, even though Rudi might not give her much headache, she know Gwennie must be meeting hell with Delores and Dave.

  ‘The children growing up,’ Grandma write, ‘them don’t take telling as easy. When me and your papa talk to Dave, him turn his back and kiss his teeth. Delores, she, just shrug and go on about her business. The only reason I don’t tear them behind is cause the arthritis gone up inside the hands, can’t grab them and drive that switch crossway them backside like first time. So, you have to watch out. Them children will give you a damn warm time.’ So say, so done.

  Gwennie couldn’t concentrate on one word Reverent Simms utter that Sunday morning, her mind was elsewhere. When time comes to sing hymns, her lips could only form over the words, her heart wasn’t there. When service was over, she didn’t gather around and chat as usual, she leave Rosa with Delores and she alone catch the twelve o’ clock bus for home. She didn’t know what she was going to say to Rudi, but someway, somehow those children will have to understand that she is the one running the show. She didn’t have husband to do it, therefore when she talk, she mean business.

  VI

  Gwennie didn’t stop the bus at Evelyn Street, she continue on. For to tell the truth, she couldn’t face the house, she couldn’t face Rudi, and she just needed to air her mind a bit. She not too long send off a letter to Peppy and one to Aunty Cora. She didn’t have any problems writing to Aunty Cora, but the one to Peppy wasn’t easy.

  She start the letter one night as she lay down in bed restless, and by the time she was finished, she’d have several sheets of paper rolled up and crushed on the floor. She finally send off the letter ten days later, but with her heart heavy, for she wasn’t at ease. She could imagine Peppy’s face,
after she get the letter. She wouldn’t jump up and down like a normal child when she see the ten dollar bill fold-up, no, she would probably just turn it over in her hand, to make sure it wasn’t counterfeit, then put it back inside the envelope longside with the letter she’d probably read three or four times looking for message Gwennie didn’t put in there.

  Gwennie sigh to herself, maybe she not to think these things, for after all she didn’t even know the little girl. When she left back home, Peppy wasn’t more than seven going on eight, but ripe nevertheless, face round and her grin spread out just like Luther’s. What little news she hear about her, come from either Rudi or Aunty Cora. She know Peppy’s the apple of Aunty Cora’s two eyes, for when Aunty Cora start to talk about her, Peppy don’t hear, don’t talk, don’t see evil. She get good marks in school and was inquisitive. Even Rudi was taken with her, too. When him just come, the first month or two, every week him dispatch off a new letter to her, and in almost every conversation she and Rudi have, the little round face girl was always mentioned. No doubt, Peppy’s the apple of his eyes, too.

  Him don’t even spend much time with Delores. Him don’t talk to Dave a tall. Him even tell Gwennie him and Dave don’t have anything in common. Dave was too damn slacky-tidy and nasty. And Delores, she don’t even know. Sometime she hear the two of them inside the room talking good-good and then all of a sudden voices start to rise, like heat simmering off hot piazza after a long rainfall. Then she would hear Rudi give out, ‘But Delores, it was only a movie, you know. Why you have to include God inside everything, so?’ And Delores would raise her voice to meet his and to let him know that God was everywhere, was inside everything, even inside the head of the man who write the script.

  And Rudi whose face would be already puckered, and whose lips would be slanted to one side, same way the moustache, would suddenly storm out the room muttering, ‘. . . Blasted church brainwash you, you can’t even think straight, can’t even hold a blasted argument.’ And as Delores is a woman who love to hold grudge and malice after any disagreement in opinion or argument, seven going on eight days would pass before she even stretch out her face to grin.

  One summer day Gwennie beg Delores to please accompany Rosa to a function at the Youth Camp, since she had to work late the evening. ‘Why Rudi can’t bring her, ma’am. I have plenty things to do down at the church tonight.’ And as Gwennie was starting to notice the blue VW that was always parked up outside the gate half hour going on forty minutes with Delores inside, she was starting to wonder what was really going on down at the church. For Delores just keep on explaining to her how the fellow driving the car was just a church friend, nothing else. And so when it seemed as if Delores didn’t have any intention of bringing Rosa to the function, Gwennie had to raise her voice.

  And the evening she stood up inside the doorway of Delores’ bedroom and tell her, ‘Missus, is one bull in this pen, and that is me. I don’t care how big you be, I am still the bull. So you please bring Rosa down there and don’t let me have to open me mouth about it again.’

  And Delores bloat up and sour up herself like any spoiled breadfruit, ready to burst forth any day now, and the evening she brought Rosa to the function, but she didn’t say another word to Gwennie going on weeks. So when it wasn’t Rudi, Delores have up inside her crop, it was Gwennie. Rudi say him can’t bother with her a tall, she’s too sometimish. Him just dying for Peppy to come.

  The bus was starting to empty as it approach the terminal. Only a handful of people remain. Gwennie get off one stop before the terminal and wait at the bus stop with about five other people for the Hartway bus that would drop her off at Samuel’s house. She never have long to wait.

  Samuel was just rolling out of bed when Gwennie ring the door bell, and it wasn’t till the third ring that Samuel open up the door. Him was still in his robe, with Dorothy’s bed slippers to match, heels hanging over the back.

  ‘But look at me dying trial! Gwennie Glaspole, you know I just finished calling your house to invite you and the children to dinner. I pick up some lovely pieces of oxtail yesterday down at the Farmer’s Market. And I seasoned it up well last night so we can have it today.’

  ‘Rudi answer the phone?’ Gwennie ask him as she step inside the house.

  ‘No. No one was home.’

  ‘Rudi wasn’t home?’

  Samuel look at her, a grin forming around his mouth corner. ‘Him didn’t come home last night?’

  ‘Why? Why you ask that?’

  ‘The expression on your face. What’s wrong, now? You and the children cutting one another’s throats.’

  Gwennie follow Samuel into the kitchen. ‘Where Dor? Still asleep?’

  ‘No. At work.’

  ‘Today, Sunday!’

  ‘Gwennie, money still has to be made.’ Samuel pull out a chair give Gwennie and pour out a tall glass of juice for her and one for himself. ‘Hungry?’

  Gwennie shake her head.

  Samuel pull up on chair next to her own, take a long drink of the juice, set the glass back down on the table, belch long and deep, ask pardon, and turn to Gwennie. ‘Rudi never sleep home last night?’

  ‘It seems that way.’

  ‘Him find a young lady.’ Samuel’s eye corners wrinkle as him try and hide the grin that wanted to cover over his face that look so much like Gwennie’s; same cocoa-butter complexion and hazel eyes and light brown hair and round face.

  ‘I don’t know what him find out the street. But whatever it is, it must be sweeter than church. For him show no interest a tall in going.’ Gwennie stop, she know Samuel wasn’t the person to talk to about church, for him only go one or two times a year. ‘Every night him out.’

  ‘Gwennie, nothing the problem if the boy find a woman.’

  Gwennie kiss her teeth. ‘I’m not so sure it is a woman, sir. A fellow keep on calling the house asking for him, so I don’t know.’

  Samuel take another long drink of the juice and then get up to replenish his glass. Gwennie’s own still wasn’t touched. Samuel sit back down. ‘Gwennie, you can’t jump to conclusion.’

  ‘I not jumping to a thing. I just telling you who call and don’t call at the house for him.’

  Plenty time roll pass. Gwennie sip the drink and Samuel finish off his own. Gwennie sigh and Samuel shift around in his chair. Gwennie’s eyes brush over the pictures Dorothy have on the walls from her photography class. Some were close-up shots of things you see every day: chair leg, somebody’s head back, the base of a kitchen pipe, but by the looks of them now you could never tell.

  ‘Then the two of you talk about it, Gwennie?’ Samuel’s face was tired. Black stubbles swarm his cheeks like sugar ants on sweetened condensed milk.

  Gwennie shake her head. ‘Him there vex, now. Say him tired to hear the word church mention.’

  Samuel got up and reach inside the fridge for the pan with the seasoned oxtails. The smell of onion and garlic and black pepper and ginger root and thyme and scallion fill the room. ‘Well, Gwennie, I don’t know what to tell you,’ Samuel say to her, ‘you and him will have to work it out, come to some kind of compromise. You going to have to give a little, take a little. But don’t forget Rudi is a big man. Him almost twenty-one. Which means him going to want to lead his own life, come and go as him please without much interference. His plans for life may not follow the same route you have mapped out for him, but you going to have to give him room.’

  Samuel turn on the fire under the big aluminium Dutch pot and pour in the oil. ‘If him don’t want Jesus and church, you can’t force him, try and try as you might. Mama and Papa wanted me to become a minister, but those weren’t my plans. Till this day, me and Mama can’t look in one another’s eyes straight. Papa not too bad, but Mama still have me up somewhere inside her belly. Don’t chase away Rudi.’ Samuel pour out the entire dish of oxtails inside the Dutch pot, and the frying was so loud, not a word mention again for a while.

  ‘But them have to listen,’ Gwennie tell him after the nois
e die down.

  ‘Yes, but careful. Don’t chase him away.’

  Gwennie didn’t say anything else. She pick up her handbag with her Bible and hymn book from off the long oval oak table with the six matching straight back chairs and tell Samuel she heading out.

  ‘You need a ride?’

  ‘No, don’t bother,’ Gwennie tell him. ‘It’s nice and warm and sunny outside with just the slightest little breeze blowing out hot air. I love to feel it on me face. I just want to get out the house a little and to clear me head. You go on and enjoy your oxtail.’

  And with that song Gwennie left. Samuel watch as she step through the door, turn left out the gate and make her way down the street. But Gwennie wasn’t on her way home. She stop off at the telephone booth not far from Samuel’s house, and call Clive to tell him she coming over. And Clive’s response was just dead, no little emotion or anything a tall in his voice. After hanging up the phone, Gwennie wasn’t sure if she was doing the right thing. She have a feeling Clive wasn’t going to be easy to get on with.

  Him never kiss her cheeks at the door as usual, nor did his face light up as if glad to see her. His eyes were sombre, they weren’t dancing around. Seems as if the candle inside his heart blow-out for her. Clive’s apartment was on the second floor of a big three-family house. It was spacious and bright, windows open wide and shades pull up, to let in freshness. The stereo in the living room was blasting Calypso tunes. It’s been almost two months now since them last see one another.

  Whenever him call to make plans, almost like a bad luck, she always busy. And since the children don’t show him much respect, him don’t come around as often. Only him and Rosa get on well, sometimes through the mail, him send her colouring books, crayon, dolly or jacks set, children’s records and tapes. Plenty times when she want to use the phone, Rosa’s on it with her friend Clive, as she call him. Him and Delores polite with one another, but him and Rudi can’t bear to be in the same room. Up till now him still don’t tell Gwennie why. And she don’t ask.