Island Songs by Alex Wheatle Page B

been too licky licky tonight wid de fire-water! Come mon. Yuh affe carry Hortense home.”
    Joseph focused his eyes. He saw Hortense blissfully asleep on the ground, her head resting upon a hacked-off branch. Joseph went to pick her up, slinging her over his shoulder. “Where Jenny der ya?” he asked.
    Amy looked around. Under the leaves of Neville’s avocado tree, using the light of the kerosene lamp that was hooked on the side of the house, Amy’s mother, Melody, seated on a stool and using her hands to express herself, was telling African Anancy stories to seven captivated children. Jenny was one of them. “…An’ Anancy was well crafty an’ from ah spider, turn himself into ah long-belly goat but he was still speaking to de terrified white mon inna African tongue. De white mon ah scream an’ scream ’til he could nah scream nuh more…”
    “Jenny!” called Amy. “Come chile. Time fe bed.”
    “But Mama. Gran’mama nuh finish her story yet!”
    “Jenny! Nuh let me come up der an’ tan ya backside.”
    “Tan me backside? Papa never tan me backside yet so why yuh waan tan me backside, Mama?”
    “ Don’t get wise! Come , chile!”
    Melody kissed Jenny upon the forehead, stroked her head and said, “gwarn to ya mudder, chile. Me don’t waan Man-tongue fussing to me inna de marnin becah me waan to preserve me ears. Nex’ time yuh come me will tell yuh de res’ ah de story. Goodnight an’ don’t let nuh bugaboo bite.”
    Skipping to join her family, Jenny was perturbed to see her father carrying Hortense. She was soon filled with a burning jealousy, sulking behind her parents, dragging her heels. She looked upoccasionally, firing a fierce stare into Hortense’s back.
    “Wha’ happen to David?” Joseph asked, looking about him. “Him gone to anoder fire? Mebbe to Misser DaCosta plot?”
    “Yes,” Amy replied, not revealing that David had simply vanished into the night and hadn’t informed anyone where he was going. “Me sure him gone ah Misser DaCosta. Him mus’ waan to hear de mento band dat ah play up der.”
    For a few seconds, Joseph doubted this news but he soon reassured himself that David wouldn’t shy away from bidding farewell to his mother and sisters.
    “Ooowww, me leg,” Jenny howled in pain. “Me leg, Papa. Blood ah run!”
    Joseph and Amy turned around and saw Jenny lying on the ground, blood trickling from a gash in her knee. “Me cyan’t walk, Papa,” Jenny cried. “Me walkin’ an’ me stumble.”
    Joseph roused Hortense. “Come, Hortense, wake up. Yuh affe walk. Ya sister hurt her leg.”
    Joseph helped her down to the ground. Hortense, focusing her sleepy eyes, shot a look of utter scorn at her sister before reluctantly holding her mother’s proffered hand. Joseph picked up Jenny, kissed her on the cheek and set off once more. Jenny sobbed all the way home.
    “Papa, Jenny ah bawl crocodile tears!” shouted Hortense. “She mus’ ah pain her leg by herself. Lie she ah lie. Don’t trust her, Papa! Jenny crafty like Anancy when she ready. Yuh don’t see de red glow inna her eye?”
    “Now, Hortense,” said Joseph. “Why woulda Jenny mek blood run from her own leg? Nex’ time me promise me will carry yuh wherever yuh waan go.”
    “Nex’ time me will nuh boder ask yuh, Papa,” Hortense sulked. “ David will carry me. Me don’t even ’ave to ask him. He’s me true papa!”
    “ Hortense !” Amy rebuked. “Quiet ya mout’ or me will stick ah jackfruit inna it!”
    Joseph felt an ignition of guilt burning his conscience and decided to ignore Hortense’s accusing eyes.
    When they finally reached home, Hortense kicked Jenny’s supposedly injured leg. “Now yuh cyan bawl fe real,” snapped Hortense, rage in her expression. “Yuh dutty liar . Jezebel yuh ah Jezebel! See me don’t fling rockstone after yuh if yuh do dat trick again.”
     
    David had not attended Mr DaCosta’s party like many of the other young men and women who resided in Claremont,