Me Dying Trial

by Patricia Powell

  ‘I’m outside on the patio drinking a cold beer,’ him tell Gwennie. ‘Want one?’

  She nod.

  Outside on the patio, she kick off her black shoes and stretch out her toes with the pink nail polish peeling off. It was cooler up this area than over at Samuel’s. She sprawl out herself on Clive’s open-back chair.

  ‘Didn’t think you’d ever want to see me again, since your children arrive,’ Clive say to her, as him hand her the glass of beer and sprawl off himself next to her on his own open-back chair. Him wasn’t wearing a shirt and Gwennie could see all his scars from childhood that grow with him.

  Gwennie kiss her teeth. ‘How you mean? You know that’s not true a tall-tall. I just busy.’

  ‘Only Rosa alone call. Everytime I try to make plans, you cancel. Say you’re busy or you’re tired. I thought that with all your children around now to help, you would have more free time.’

  ‘Yes, you’re right. But here I am now. I come to visit.’ She didn’t want him to get on the subject of how him think Rudi wasn’t helpful enough as a big son should, and how this couldn’t be the Rudi she use to talk about so much. She turn sideways to look at Clive. ‘I wanted to get away from the children and the house a little and just relax meself.’

  ‘So I am the escape route.’ His voice was scornful. ‘I guess I should be thankful that at least I still serve a function.’

  ‘Clive,’ Gwennie put out her hand to touch him.

  Him pull away. ‘No, don’t stop me, I talking the truth, and you know it. I try with you and your children, I put in plenty hours, Gwennie. But I’m not happy. I’m not satisfied. I don’t feel good. You say you’re interested, but I don’t think so.’ Clive turn around to face her. ‘I don’t think you care about my feelings a whole heap, Gwennie. I don’t think so a tall.’

  And to tell the truth this wasn’t the way Gwennie wanted to spend her Sunday evening. She wasn’t sure what brought her over there, but maybe somewhere deep inside she just wanted to put a full stop to things with she and Clive once and for all. And no, it wasn’t that she not interested in him, for she like him plenty, but Clive ready to marry and turn father to Rosa, and she didn’t have married life on her syllabus. Maybe if she was more in love with him. Love. Gwennie stop and smile to herself. The word sound foreign to her. It’s been so long. She was in love with Walter at the very beginning she think, but not since. Maybe for the short while that she knew Luther. But she wasn’t sure.

  Gwennie reach over and squeeze Clive’s hands in her own. They were warm and sweaty. She was afraid to look in his face, something tell her his eye water was just waiting to bubble over. ‘Is not that I don’t care, Clive,’ she tell him, her voice soft and calm. ‘But me and you don’t want the same things. You ready for marriage, but I don’t want another man in my life right now.’

  And him start the hollering. Not a sound at first, except for one or two short snorts, but his belly was shaking the whole time. And all of a sudden she started to feel sorry. Sorry for the grief she was causing him, sorry if she’d lead him on, sorry that she couldn’t reciprocate the loving. For something tell her him would make a warm and caring husband, an attentive father, a good friend, but she was too afraid to try again. And what’s the point of trying if her heart wasn’t in it. And as she continue think these things, Gwennie feel her own eye water starting to bubble up behind the lids. She pull Clive to her close and hug him, stiffling her tears on his breast.

  And after them cry and talk some more, him ask her to spend the night, but she tell him no, she have to get up early tomorrow. Finally him drive her home in silence, and drive off the minute she let herself in. Rosa was fast asleep on her bed when she turn on the bedroom light and Delores was inside her room reading yet another Mills & Boon. No light was on inside Rudi’s room, but his stereo was playing softly. She didn’t even bother to put down her bag and change her clothes and shoes, she step right inside his room, pausing just a little bit outside the door.

  She could only make out the white pajama pants and the white of his eyes in the darkness. Standing inside the doorway, she switch on the light to her right. She watch as him shield his face from the glare. She clean her throat. ‘I don’t make many rules inside the house,’ she start off, ‘but if you plan to sleep out, call. Say something. Because you have me here worrying-up meself half to death. Don’t know if something happen to you out the street, if car run you over, people shoot you dead, nothing.’

  Rudi never say anything and Gwennie continue on. ‘Next thing,’ and she sigh long and hard before she say it, then she race it out as if she have plenty more important things to get on to. ‘You don’t have to go to church every Sunday, but I expect you to show your face now and again. Goodnight.’ And she switch off the light, pull the door behind her, say her prayers and roll into her bed. She wasn’t sure what brought her to that conclusion, but she wasn’t in the mood to fight with him or chase him away.

  By Monday morning, she and Rudi were back to normal again. Him wake up early make breakfast and pack her a sandwich and a piece of cake from Delores’ Sunday baking. Wednesday and Thursday evening, him come home early and sit down inside the kitchen chat and laugh with her while she cook dinner, and later on, him help to put on buttons on the dress she was making on the little Singer sewing machine she pick up on sale.

  Sunday morning, him get up early make breakfast and the whole family attended church together. Him never go the week after that or even the one after that, but him did go the following week. And although she wouldn’t allow herself to see too much of Clive, she still miss him, but not as much, for she did have her children back together, all differences cleared up. And since a girl was starting to call the house for Rudi and did even come to pick him up one or two Saturday nights, things were alright now. Well, at least for the time being.

  PART EIGHT

  I

  Two months before Gwennie’s second batch of children was to come, she get a letter from Walter. Rudi get one too, and since Delores keep up general correspondence with him, she send even him postcard this past June on his birthday, it never come as surprise to her. But Gwennie wasn’t ready to hear from him, yet. For she at a point in her life now where nothing a tall feel settled, and if she don’t stand up on her two feet strong, she might carelessly tell Walter what him want to hear and put herself in worst predicament. The break with Clive leave her lonely, for she miss the intimacy, even though now and again him visit, but only to see Rosa, him claim, no one else. Rudi’s goings and comings start to worry her again, for him don’t tell anybody where him go to at nights and she not so certain him keeping the right company. The pending arrival of the new batch of children causing her additional expenses and confusion.

  These days in the newspaper she see it print up often, children growing up in households without fathers can’t form good relationships with people. Plenty of them grow up without proper direction and sometimes the boys don’t turn out manly enough. And she can’t help but look at her own children and shake her head, for her belly hurt every time she see Rosa climb up onto Clive and hug and kiss him all over his face, the few times him visit. But then again when she think about those women back home who have to raise children all by themselves for the husband either dead, or left them for another woman, she don’t bother to pay the newspaper any mind.

  Miss Lilla back home, for example, did have to pick up herself and her three children and leave the husband, for when him drink the rum him was the devil from hell. More destitute than those children you couldn’t find. Shoes use to have holes, school uniforms have patch on top of patch. The little money Miss Lilla make from day’s work couldn’t stretch far. Day’s work back home don’t pay as good as abroad. But nevertheless, one turn out lawyer, the other one school teacher and the young one work on the Daily Gleaner as news editor.

  But then again when she look at Rosa’s school report and notice that she not passing, she can’t help but start the fretting. When she go up to the sch
ool to see the teacher, the lady never have good things to say. Rosa don’t show interest a tall, she complain, concentration span light. All she want to do is play. And when Gwennie think about Delores, she just kiss her teeth, for she can’t understand how a young person can just spend all her time down at the church so, interested in nothing else, no book club or even political group like what she, Gwennie, used to join back home. Not that anything wrong with the constant church-going, but as time go by, she notice that the people down at the Baptist Church—and she don’t have anybody else to blame but herself, for Dorothy did tell her that those people down there not nice—not interested in community service like her own church back home.

  When she bring it up one Sunday after church, everybody gather around giving laugh-for-peas-soup, and ask the three ladies standing next to her, if them interested in community service, them turn up them face and comment on how her accent lovely.

  And Dave, granted she don’t see it in his possession, but she know him mix up in the ganja smoking at the school up in Springfield. She can see it in his eyes when him come home on weekends, blood red. And him eat and sleep and spit all the time like a blinking jackass. Then there is Rudi—Gwennie sigh out loud. Him puzzle her more than ever. Plenty times at night, late late hours, when the house still and the only thing she can hear is the humming of the refrigerator, she hear him on the telephone chatting for a long length of time.

  One night she even hear him hollering. And to tell the truth, she didn’t know whether or not she should interfere. She pray day in and day out, asking the Lord to guide and show her signs as to how best to run her house, mind her children. But the signs, it seem, taking a damn long time to come. And so with all these things on her mind, she wasn’t ready for Walter’s letter and his proposal to her. She really hope that that wasn’t the sign God showing her.

  She remember the evening she see the long red and white airmail envelope in the mail box. She recognize the handwriting sprawl over it same time, and her chest tighten for it bring to mind the letter him did write Percy cautioning him against coming to the house. She pick up the letter and slip it underneath the phone bill and mortage payment plan. As far as she can see, letter from Walter can only mean problems and contention.

  She was glad when Rosa come home from school, for since Rosa is a woman love to chat about every little thing that happen at school, it would provide plenty distraction. But as them talk about what Rosa ate at the cafeteria for lunch, and about the girls she play jump rope with, Gwennie couldn’t help but to ask her if she miss the father. And Rosa, almost as if she never hear Gwennie’s question, continue to talk about her friends Michelle and John and how Michelle’s glasses thick, and how she, Rosa, think she want glasses too, and if Gwennie can please buy her some. Gwennie did have to ask her a second time, for in truth, Rosa don’t talk much about back home. Now and again when Delores in conversation bring up Jeff’s name, her eyes twinkle as if she remember him. Sometimes she even ask Rudi what happen to Peppy or Grandma. Sometimes she ask about her father, but not often.

  ‘Rosa, I talking to you,’ Gwennie say to her, for as much as she don’t want think about the man, him up front in her mind. ‘You don’t miss your father?’

  Rosa stop and look at Gwennie, annoyance strong in her gaze and in her sigh. Then as if to block out further interruption, she continue on with her conversation about Michelle’s new school bag and John’s crew-cut hair in a voice way louder than before. Gwennie just let it drop. She never mention the letter to anybody, not even Rudi. But by the time dinner finish eat, plates wash up and turn down for the evening, floor sweep and counter wipe down, she couldn’t hold out anymore, she shut her bedroom door and tear open the envelope. And even when days turn into weeks and weeks into months, she did still have the letter fold up same way underneath her mattress. Only she alone and God sharing in the details of the contents. And perhaps it would’ve stayed under there fold-up neat if not too long after Rudi get a letter as well.

  ‘I wonder what Daddy-man want now,’ Rudi give out to no one in particular as him sort through the pile of bills Gwennie divide between him and Delores. Finally him tear it open. Silence fill the room. And after what must be the second reading, Gwennie hear him mutter out under his breath, ‘Wretch! Monkey never know one day the well would dry up.’ And then after an even longer pause, him sigh again, this time sad and heavy. Then him push open Gwennie’s room door and perch himself on her bed.

  ‘Him want to come over.’ Disbelief was in his voice. ‘Him say that him miss us.’ Rudi shake his head. ‘Can you imagine? After all me go through at the hands of that man, now him want me to send him invitation letter.’ Rudi start to pace around her room. ‘What a way the world turn! So you going to send for him, Mama?’

  And Gwennie choose her words careful, for she didn’t want to sway neither one way or the other in her response. ‘It depends on how you children feel,’ she start off, voice calm with a serenity she wasn’t sure she feel. ‘Cause if you children want him to come, I wouldn’t prevent you from having that.’

  ‘If him come, I am leaving,’ Rudi tell her, determination strong in his voice. ‘Me and that man could never live under the same roof again. Not as long as I live.’

  ‘But how you mean?’ Her voice not a tall convincing. For to tell the truth, she wasn’t sure she wanted Walter to come herself. But after she think about it, it turn bile to her belly, for if Rudi can have that kind of hatred for his father, why not for his mother too, someday. ‘Is your father. The Bible say obey . . .’

  ‘I don’t care what the Bible have to say, Mama. All I know is if him come, me gone.’ And Rudi’s voice was calm with a surety Gwennie wasn’t sure she like.

  ‘Think about it. Is your father. Your days will be long upon the land. One good deed repay another.’

  And even though Delores never have a direct answer—’if him come, him come, if him don’t come, him don’t come, it doesn’t really matter’—only Rosa alone say yes, her eyes glued to the TV screen same way, voice irritated as if she would rather watch the programme in peace. Gwennie was back where she started. She still never call Dave to ask him, for she have a feeling that him would be the only one to say yes and mean it.

  And when she see that the children not coming forth with any uniformity on the matter, and weeks were turning into months, she decide to drag out the matter one last time and work it through. She bring it up to Samuel one evening out on the front porch, thumb playing with the married ring on his finger, brows creased from the contents of Walter’s letter. Don’t turn the children’s mind against him, the letter threaten, for him miss them dearly and really want to come over and fix-up things, even if is for two months—maybe start over brand new.

  ‘It’s not because I don’t like Walter why I saying this,’ Samuel start off, voice frail, ‘because there was a time when me and him used to be really close.’ Sweat start to gather up on his nose. ‘But I not going to lift one straw to bring him here. I don’t have any respect for a man who like to manhandle woman. My father never used to do it. It shouldn’t happen.’ Samuel’s voice was gaining in momentum by now. ‘If you want him to come, you can bring him. You been here long enough. I washing my hands out of your married life.’

  All this time Gwennie just look on. She wasn’t sure she wanted him telling her how her life must run. She rather make her own mistakes. Not that she don’t make enough already to last the rest of her life, but still she don’t want Samuel talking to her as if she no more than fifteen going on. But Samuel endeavour to continue.

  ‘As for the children, them might claim that them want him to come. But is your bed him going to sleep in, and is your life him going to stand up and walk around in. So you must know. I send for you to come and live in America so life can be easier, but if you want to haul down crosses on yourself, that’s your business.’

  And still, Gwennie couldn’t do more than just look on. She never see him so serious and cross about anything before, not ev
en those times when Dorothy deserve it with some of the things that fall out of her mouth. But this was the story of her life. Everybody telling her how her life must run. When is not Grandma is Walter. When is not Walter is Clive. Now is Samuel.

  ‘You think Walter’s a fool?’ Samuel’s eyes look deep into hers. ‘Walter’s no idiot. Nothing more than him want to come abroad and using you and the children as pass. As far as I can see, that man not up any any frigging good. Excuse me language.’ And him step inside the house for his car keys.

  Long after him gone, Gwennie was still standing up outside on the front porch, Samuel’s last sentences ringing around in her head. Grandma did tell her in the last letter, she never know Walter could be so nice with the children. Everytime him pass the house on his way up to Georges Valley to see family, when him don’t stop to give Jeff money and ask how him settling down in Mile Gully All-Age School, him come inside and ask she, Grandma, about her arthritis and Grandpa about his cane crop and the headaches him continue getting, no matter what kind of medication doctor prescribe him.

  According to Grandma, it get to the point now where them watch out for Walter every other Sunday. And although she, Grandma don’t know exactly what Walter is up to, it can’t be any damn good, take it from her. So Gwennie had better be careful, for next thing she know, the children might soon start to tell her that them can’t live without the father. And as God see and know, Gwennie don’t want that man back inside her life. Best thing she ever did was to get up and leave him. Don’t spoil it, now.

  II

  Gwennie never have much preparation to make before the second batch of children arrive. Delores and Rudi take care of the buying of warm clothes for the winter coming on. Three weeks before the arrival, she take out money from her credit union, and she and Rudi drive over to Glastonbury in the little white four-door Ford Escort him buy.