Me Dying Trial

by Patricia Powell

  Home life. Peppy pause long and hard on this one before she continue. For in truth only she and Rudi really get on. Delores too steep in the church and in her Western and Mills & Boon Romances to give attention to anybody or anything else. And furthermore, her moods too swing-swang. One day, nicer than Delores you can’t find. Chat and laugh loud and plenty. Next time, she don’t speak whatsoever.

  Peppy and Gwennie? Well, them just sort of step outside one another’s way. Sometimes she get the feeling that her mother just constantly waiting to hear questions she imagine Peppy plan to ask. The two definitely have to get to know one another. Sometimes when everybody around the dining room table chatting and laughing, she notice the definite familiarity among Jeff, Delores, Rudi and Gwennie. Knowing glances only them alone understand. Old jokes and secrets, them alone privy to.

  Whenever Gwennie address her about anything: ‘Peppy, how school today?’ or ‘Peppy, where you and Rudi been all afternoon?’ ‘How Aunty Cora, when last you hear from her?’ It’s always like a cloud cover over her brain and she can’t remember. Almost like the room suddenly hot and she suffocating. And she can feel sweat trickling down her back bone. And she want to scratch for everywhere itching at once. But somehow, some way, she always manage to answer, her voice barely audible, her answers far from coherent.

  And Gwennie have to always ask her over and over what is she saying, voice gaining in irritation each time. For after Peppy finally answer ‘Me and Rudi was driving around’, depending on the question, she just purse up her lips, sullen-like, for she couldn’t think of what else to say to her mother. And during these times she always see the strained expression on Gwennie’s face, in her eyes, sometimes even in her voice, almost as if she can barely contain that scream struggling inside her chest.

  Her relationship with Jeff and Dave, come and go. So that really only leave she and Rudi, or better yet, she and Rudi and Craig—thirty-three year-old Craig, whom she meet the very next day after she arrive, and who’s been sharing the same apartment with his mother for over twenty years. Rudi met him at the same bar Percy Clock used to frequent several years back when him was living in America.

  ‘We just connect with each other really well,’ Rudi tell her, not long after her arrival. ‘We don’t have that much in common. For one, him way older than me. But him really nice. We travel all the time. Him really caring and giving. Father died during the war. Korean, I think. Him write poetry on the side like me . . .’

  And as him go on talk, Peppy could see it in his face again, that same surety bout life she saw at the airport. And she get the sudden feeling that when his mother find out about his way of life, for that bound to happen soon with this new attitude she see, is either Gwennie put up with it, or she don’t do anything a tall. For it seems as if Rudi reach a stage now where no coaxing or begging can change him. She could just see the constant fighting that would take place if the father ever come. It always please her to hear Rudi say that if is a tall up to him, Walter’s two feet never touch Foreign soil.

  ‘Craig say him want to meet Mama and Delores and everybody,’ Rudi continue. ‘Him even want us to go back home on vacation for a week. But I don’t know.’

  She could tell too that Rudi was just bottled up with plenty things, that him was just waiting to unload on her what letter can’t convey. The first two weeks, them stay up till two o’ clock each night, catching up on nine months’ worth of news. News about Percy: how Martel leave him for one of Percy’s good friends; and that even now, Percy still hurting from the break-up. But according to Martel’s letters, Percy was cloaking him too much. Him needed breathing space. Him getting plenty of that with Bill, the new fellow.

  Then she ask if him remember her friend, Jasmine, for Jasmine’s mother, the higgler lady, was that way too. Jasmine invited her over to her mother’s house and she met the lady, Miss Pearl.

  ‘Is almost like them married,’ Peppy tell him, ‘for them each wear a gold ring. I did expect that maybe one of them would play the father while the other one play the mother. But nothing like that.’ Peppy shake her head. ‘Miss Pearl was just coming back from work, when me see her, and she did have on high heel shoes and silk frock, looking like Queen of Sheba, ownself. Jasmine say every Sunday morning Miss Pearl get up early, ready Jasmine’s two little brothers, and carry them to St Richard’s Catholic Church where she sing tenor in the choir. She not manlike a tall,’ Peppy assure him, ‘she just as feminine as Jasmine’s mother.

  ‘And them loving to one another, too.’ Peppy continue on. ‘Jasmine say them have quarrels, but nothing compared to what used to go on when the father was there.’

  ‘Then, Jasmine tell children at school about her family life?’ Rudi ask her. ‘She not afraid them laugh?’

  ‘She only tell me, I think, since me and she close.’ Peppy’s face was pensive. ‘To other children, she refer to Miss Pearl as her mother’s second cousin from country who just spending time.’

  But that was all Peppy could tell Rudi. Somehow she never feel comfortable telling him about New Green people, about Leslie and his little boy, about Aunty Cora and her lump. Him ask after them, and Peppy tell him, them hearty, but she don’t get the feeling that him really care, or want extended information. It’s almost as if New Green belong to she, same way Del and Dave, Jeff and Gwennie belong to Rudi.

  So as Peppy hear Delores raise up in her bed, turn over and continue to snore, she tell Aunty Cora that family life going okay. She and everyone getting along fine. Don’t worry herself. For somehow she just couldn’t tell Aunty Cora that even though she and Rudi get along fine, every time the two of them talking, no matter how important the subject matter, if the phone ring any a tall and it’s Craig on the line, everything else put on hold. For whenever Craig clap, Rudi jump. The foundation of them relationship it seems. Then Peppy tell Aunty Cora about the coldness of weather, how sometimes temperature reach as far as thirty below. Still no signs of snow, although it’s suppose to this weekend. She tell Aunty Cora about Gwennie’s old boyfriend, Clive, who don’t come over as often anymore, and who is only on good terms with Rosa. Then Peppy ask her to please reply soon, she can’t wait to hear more news. And when she finish lick the airmail envelope shut, she start on Jasmine’s letter and then Vin’s.

  IV

  So as March turn into April and April into May, and the few seeds of tomato, hot pepper and carrot Gwennie sprinkle behind the house started budding, and the pain in her back and shoulders subsided to only spasms now and again, the things that used to clog up Peppy’s brain back home, that was on hold now till she finally settle down and was comfortable with Foreign life, started to flood her mind again. The dreams about the man: medium height and dark-skinned; whom Aunty Cora hadn’t seen herself, but was quite certain him was a contractor on the bridge that separate Mile Gully from the town Walter’s people come from.

  And the man would never show his face in any of her dreams. Everytime she’d go up close, him would always turn his back or disappear from her line of vision completely. But she know him wear glasses, thick dark glasses to protect his eyes from splinters. And she know him wear khaki trousers sometimes, or wash-out dungarees other times, but always with the behind and knees tear out and patch several times. And she know him always smell of sweat, sweat that drip from his neck down into the collar of his open-neck dirty shirt, ripped underneath the arms, staining it, a musty yellow.

  And she know him wear gloves, heavy brown gloves that protect his fingers that she more than certain resemble hers: long and slender with rounded tips and half moons. And she know him always carry a canvas work bag with the zipper torn out, fill up to the neck with the water bottle, plane, saw, flashlite, box of cigarette, trowel, tape measure, hammer and nail. All different shapes and sizes of nails.

  Sometimes the dreams come once a fortnight. Sometimes once a week. Other times every night. And even when she get up in the middle of the night thirsty, or to go to the bathroom, by the time her head hit the pillow again,
the smell of sweat was upon her so strong, her nose twitch. And she did get up one Sunday morning determine to ask the mother about the man: the man whose name she wasn’t certain about, but whose voice she recognized as him laugh and joke around with the other contractors, the grin—widespread and engaging, covering over his face like hers; the man who Aunty Cora imagine still living, although she don’t quite know whom him is herself, Gwennie the best one to ask—but careful how you ask, for things have a way, especially when them hard to talk about, to come out in ways you don’t quite expect or even want.

  The Sunday morning Peppy put on her robe and proceed inside the kitchen where her mother was frying ripe plantains, eggs and johnny cakes for breakfast. Not quite certain how to begin, she find the dusting rag and start to dust off the mahogany table, Gwennie don’t allow anybody to sit down around unless them have to, then she spread the table cloth over it for breakfast.

  ‘Nice to see you out of bed bright and early.’ Gwennie remark, as if noticing Peppy for the first time. ‘Have things plan for today?’

  Peppy open her mouth to begin, but not a sound.

  ‘Whatsit?’ Gwennie lift her head, waiting for the response, back turn to Peppy sameway as she watch the johnny cakes turn golden brown in the frying pan.

  ‘Nothing,’ Peppy sigh out. ‘Just can’t sleep, that’s all.’

  And after she set out the plates and forks, Peppy crawl back into her bed defeated, but planning ways nevertheless to broach the subject.

  And out it came, full force and flushy one day while Rudi was out carousing with Craig as usual, Delores was gone with Rosa and Jeff to a programme at the church, and only Peppy and Gwennie were alone at the house. Gwennie was frying fish the Saturday, lovely red-belly porgies she buy at the Grand Union. And as Peppy is not one to start up conversations with her mother, Gwennie did have to call her into the kitchen.

  ‘How school?’ Gwennie roll the fish in the bowl with the flour. ‘Jeff bring his report card to show me. Where yours?’

  ‘Inside.’

  ‘Here, peel this.’ Gwennie hand Peppy a big piece of yellow yam she get at the West Indian store. ‘What it doing inside? You must bring it and show me. I want to see how you doing at the school.’

  ‘I will bring it when I finish,’ Peppy reply, her voice meek and mild, for she always feel tender under Gwennie’s gaze.

  ‘If you’re bright and work hard, them will give you scholarship. Your Aunt Dorothy did get a scholarship.’

  And she and Gwennie continue on in conversation, her tongue and mind loosening with each new sentence. Peppy tell her about Miss Biggs, and how only encouragement and praise fall from her lips. Then Gwennie tell her she’d be more than lucky if she can get a scholarship to attend university, for sometimes she wish she could take classes up at the community college few nights a week, herself. Social Studies and Civics her favourite. But she don’t have the time.

  And as them go on talk, it roll out of Peppy’s mouth with such ease, she never even have time to stop herself. ‘Ma’am,’ she start off, for she still not used to calling Gwennie Mama like the others, ‘Who is me father? What’s his name?’

  Peppy turn around to look at her mother. But Gwennie’s back was still facing her, straight and rigid same way.

  ‘What you mean by that? You don’t know your father?’

  ‘No. I mean yes. But them say Walter’s not me father. Them say . . .’ Peppy couldn’t continue anymore. Clouds rolled threateningly crossway her brain. She rub her fingers against the slices of yam on the plate, waiting for the pot of water on the stove to start boiling.

  ‘Who is them?’

  Gwennie’s back still faced Peppy.

  ‘Grandma. Aunty Cora.’

  ‘I don’t know what you talking about, me dear,’ and as if to bring the conversation to a close, Gwennie drop the fish into the hot oil, and the frying was so loud, it cut off all forms of communication.

  Peppy turn on the tap and rinse off her hands. Then she dry them off with a sheet of paper towel. And without another word to Gwennie, whose back was just as straight and as rigid, she step inside her room, pick up her jacket and let herself out through the back door.

  Outside was warm. Tiny breezes caress her cheeks and blow against the eye water that was running down. She could feel the dreams crowding her head, the sweat even though faint, pinching her nostrils. She try pushing away until night time, but all her efforts seem hopeless. Evelyn Street was empty. She turn onto Watson Avenue and step inside the Convenient Store. She miss the sound of dominoes slapping hard on tables, the triumphant laughter of victors, the haunting face of the loser, back hunched over, hate in hims heart. She nod hello to the man around the counter, and play a game of Miss PacMan before leaving.

  She continue on her walk, pass the parlour where Delores and Rosa get them hair straightened every two weeks, and Gwennie get her perm every six weeks. She pass the barber shop where Jeff get his hair cut, and Dave too, when him visit. Rudi cut his at the place Craig recommend. She call to the fat man who always stand up outside the Kentucky Chicken place, no matter what day of the week or what hour, and walk pass the bank where her class mate work as teller. There were no children in the street skipping, no firewood smells or overripe fruits. Nothing. Peppy walk on over to Gutman Park where she sit down and watch ducks waddle in the pond and concentric circles formed by the rippling water.

  Monday morning she join the after school programme Miss Biggs suggest, and so when she leave home each morning, she don’t reach in again till six o’ clock, just time enough to do her homework, eat her dinner and go to her bed.

  And when Gwennie stop her, ask her, ‘Peppy, why you coming home so late in the evenings? I know school let out from two and I expect that since you’re older, you should stay home with Rosa and Jeff.’

  Peppy only mumble something about study programme and Miss Biggs, her hooded eyes lodged somewhere over Gwennie’s head top.

  ‘That is nice. How come you didn’t mention it before? You don’t think I want to know how you progressing?’

  And Peppy just shrug her shoulders and walk away. She know Gwennie’s back started paining her again, but she couldn’t find any pity inside her belly for her mother.

  Two weeks later, Peppy start the weekend job Dorothy find her at the hospital filling up her days. For she never want to have time to think. Think say maybe her mother telling her lies, her own mother. And it seem like after the incident, nothing ever come as surprise to Peppy anymore. She felt numb inside. And so when Rudi move out, it never shake her any, for the same way distance had grown between her and her mother, it had started to grow between she and the other children as well, Rudi included. For as much as them close, she still don’t feel comfortable bringing up things to him about the mother, even though now would be a good time since him and the mother also at odds.

  Gwennie came home one evening only to find a copy of one of the magazines Rudi bring home from the bars on his bed where him carelessly leave it. Usually him hide it somewhere under his bed, or throw it way. But this time him leave it out. After Peppy watch Gwennie carry it to her room and flip through it, pace around the house, her face tight with agony, she know hell was going to burst loose that night. And from where she perch herself, Peppy could hear everything going on.

  ‘So this is what you interested in?’ Gwennie fling down the magazine on the floor and start to stamp on it. Eye water was in her voice. ‘This sin and nastiness. This is the example you setting for the younger ones? Well, it can’t go on inside here. You have to go or change your ways.’

  ‘Alright then, I will go.’ And Peppy could hear the same sureness of self she been noticing about Rudi ever since her arrival, almost as if him grow ten feet taller since him leave the father’s house. And she could tell Gwennie wasn’t ready for this response, for her face just turn grey all of a sudden. Rudi help plenty with the bills too. If him leave, things sure to fall heavy on her shoulders.

  ‘The church,’ Gwennie
tell him, her voice weak, ‘that will change you.’

  But she never say anymore, for Rudi started packing.

  When Peppy reach home from school the next evening, his room was empty, every trace of him gone. And Peppy did have to come to the conclusion that maybe Rudi set the newspaper there as bait so him could move out. For him never put up any struggle, never try to compromise, him just leave. Say him need to live his own life now. She did miss him a little, for even though him was getting more and more estranged, him was still her favourite.

  V

  The telegram with the news of Aunty Cora’s death came two weeks after her reply to Peppy. When Delores give Peppy the telegram the Saturday evening after work, all Peppy could do was just to take it from Delores’ hand and sigh out loud. Then she lock up herself in the bathroom and sit down on the floor, back turn to the door.

  Out in the living room merry-making was taking place. Delores had several of her friends over from church. Now and again peals of laughter ring out, shattering her solitude inside the dark room. Them never know much about Aunty Cora. Only that she had a big shop where them could get handfuls of paradise plum, icymint and ju-ju during visits. Them know too that she whoop long and loud, but that’s all. Them don’t know anything about the constant rum drinking to ease her maladys, the arthritis that would render her immobile now and again, the lump that was threatening her life. Delores say Gwennie doesn’t know as yet. That she been gone all day.

  Lock-up inside the bathroom, Peppy couldn’t holler out a sound. Everything seem bottled-up inside. People die like flies up at the hospital where she work. This very morning, the old man she used to talk to on division 86, pass on. When she walk pass his room on her way in, the door was wide open, mattress turn over. By lunch time them wheel in somebody else. The new name was on her dinner list.