Going Solo (New Song) (3 page)

Carson looked at her smug smile and then at the broad bandage on her leg. He entertained the unholy thought that the dog had not bitten her hard enough. He looked at his friends and Xavier, his brother, who stood head and shoulders over them. He shoved his hands into his pockets and tried to avoid eye contact. Carson swallowed.
Not good
. Everybody but him was staring at the floor. He knew a couple of songs, and his mother often said that he had a nice voice.

He looked at the class and his eyes met Alice Murray's. She was in a frothy red and white dress. Her hair was caught in two fat plaits with red ribbons tied at the ends. Her thick hair almost reached her chin.

She was smiling at him, her two dimples giving her face a naughty air. She had an angelic face, with large innocent brown eyes. She resembled the pretty girl on the front of his school exercise book that the Jamaica Tourist Board often used for their ads. Best of all, in the sea of faces she was the only one who was not giggling, whispering, and waiting to hear him and his friends embarrass themselves.

Alice Murray lived five houses from where he lived in Norwood. She, her mother, and her little sister had just moved into the community. Her mother was Blue's girlfriend. Blue was a Rastafarian who ate pork, which was a constant joke in the community since Rastafarians were not supposed to eat pork.

"Sing ‘The Lords Prayer’," Alice mouthed to him. He almost missed what she said. He was staring at her animated little face and thinking how really pretty she was. He liked her. That was enough to have him distracted until Sister Kirk cleared her throat noisily.

He turned to his embarrassed friends and whispered to them, "The Lord's Prayer."

"You start," whispered Jayce beside him, "and then I will come in. The rest of them can hum."

"I can sing," Logan said indignantly.

"And me too," Aaron frowned, "and I know it by heart."

"Boys," Sis Kirk said, trying to deter them from having a fight over who could or could not sing.

Carson started the song. He closed his eyes tightly at first. He didn't want all the eyes that were staring at them to be a distraction. "Our Father, which art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name."

The boys joined in. He gave the song some energy, the way he heard it being sung at 5 a.m. every morning on his mother's favorite radio station, RJR. His mother usually turned it up high to wake them up before she left for work. They even put an impromptu flair in it, as if they had been singing together for a while.

When the group had finished singing, he opened his eyes slowly. Mercifully, there was not even a hint of a snicker. The class was silent. When his eyes met Alice's, she gave him a thumbs up.

Sister Kirk had a shocked expression on her face and Pastor Keen stood in the doorway nodding contemplatively.

"I want to see the six of you after church, in my office," he said, smiling. "Good job."

"Well you... er... did very well," Sister Kirk said reluctantly, as if it pained her to admit it. "There was actually some harmony there, for a group of twelve year olds who love the devil’s music," she tacked on. "Now remember Psalm 96 whenever you are tempted to give your singing talent to someone else. Sing a new song to the Lord."

She ordered them back to their seats. It took her a while to find where she was in the lesson. She looked up at Carson over her glasses and shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips.

*****

"I spoke to your parents," Pastor Keen said, looking at the boys in front of him. "Every single one of them agreed that putting you in a band would be a good idea."

"A band?" Carson frowned.

"Yes," Pastor Keen said. "I have been toying with the idea of dusting off the musical instruments that we have in the basement and using them again. We have several down there but we have no one to play them. Meanwhile, the old organ that we have in the main sanctuary is on its last, and as you can hear, Bro. Stokes does not play as well as he used to. Old age will do that to you." He shook his head. "But you guys are young. Today when I heard you singing, it was like the Holy Spirit spoke to me and said, 'these are the future of music in this church.'"

"He did?" Jayce asked with his eyes widened. "What did He sound like?"

"It's just an inner voice, a certain knowing," Pastor Keen said hurriedly, Jayce looked like he was ready to grill the pastor with questions. The pastor did not want to entertain him any further because that could take all night.

"I have worked out a plan. All of you will learn to play an instrument. I have three dedicated teachers who are willing to teach you this summer. Everyday at ten, I want you here at church." 

Carson and Xavier groaned. Carson was enjoying hanging out at Petey's Mechanic Shop and Xavier followed his mom to work at the Knight's mansion, where he could get to watch television, eat the most delicious foods, and participate in tea with Farrah Knight and her dollies. Nobody expected Xavier to do anything much because of his crossed eyes.

"So it's a done deal," Pastor Keen said, smiling at them. "Lunch will be provided. You will have a good time. You may go now." He paused and continued, "One more thing: I like the theme of the verses from Psalm 96 that Sister Keen had you read today—A New Song. If you guys ever become a band, you can name your band that."

He ushered them out, watching as they raced through the church hall, pushing and shoving each other. He really hoped he was doing the right thing in getting them into a band. He could not see how it would work but surely the Lord knew the future.

*****

When Carson and Xavier found their mother, she was outside talking to a group of ladies. She frowned at them when they barreled toward her. They stopped at a polite distance from her and waited.

They looked around for their friends in the meantime. The Cedar Hill churchyard was a boy's paradise to run and frolic in after church. It was situated on the top of a hill, on about five acres of land. At one section of the property were a preparatory school and a high school that were run by the church. In another area, there was about an acre of mango trees. There was also a view of the pier where cruise ships docked.

"Don't you dare move!" Delores looked at her boys. She had taken them to church this morning looking impeccable. Now they looked as if they had been thrown into a washing machine with dirt instead of detergent.

They lived quite far from the Cedar Hill community, so they usually had lunch at church and stayed for the evening service. To reach home they would either get a lift from one of the generous church brethren who had a car, or walk the seven miles to Norwood, an informal settlement where the poorest in Montego Bay lived.

Delores was talking to a fellow resident of Norwood, Emilia. She had come to church that day at Delores' invitation and she had liked it. She found the fellowship and the warmth both unexpected and welcomed. Emilia was new to the area, having come from rural Trelawny to live with her youngest child's father, Leo "Blue" Chapman. Blue was a gardener at the Palm Tree Hotel and had settled in Norwood. Emilia had not yet found work.

"Let us walk down." Delores said, indicating to her fidgeting boys to follow her.

"Have you seen Alice?" Emilia looked at the boys, "She was right here before you boys showed up."

"I'll find her." Carson volunteered, running off. He had not told her thanks for suggesting the song or for cheering him on in Sabbath School that morning.

"Don't loiter around!" Delores warned him as he ran back to the church. The choir was rehearsing for a funeral the following morning. He looked through the window.

He saw her sitting in the second bench from the front, her eyes fixed on the choir. She was nodding and singing along with the choir.

He went to the door and tried to get her attention but he had to actually walk over and touch her before she jumped and looked at him frightened.

"Sorry," he mumbled. Her little shoulder felt bony under the dress and he could feel the tremor of her body through the thin fabric. Why was she so jumpy though? It was just a tap on the shoulder.

"Your mother is ready," he said, holding out his hand for her to take it. "We are going to walk down."

Alice got up reluctantly and put her hand in his, following him outside.

"You like singing and all of that stuff?" Carson asked her, not quite knowing what to say to her. Alice nodded to his question. She was a self-possessed little girl. Her eyes were big and solemn. She felt as if she were much older than he knew she must be.
How old was she? Ten?
He wondered.

"How old are you?" he asked to be sure.

"I will be ten," she said, "on January the first. Mama said nobody can forget my birthday ever."

Carson chuckled. At twelve, he felt as if he were much older than her. She was just a baby, he thought. He should not like her but he found that he did.

"Thank you for suggesting the song this morning. The pastor asked us to come and practice for a band. Me and the guys are going to learn instruments and all of that stuff." he said boastfully to fill the silence as they neared the bottom of the grassy slope, heading toward their parents.

She stopped and spun around, her eyes wide with excitement. "Can I come too?"

"No girls allowed," he snorted. "Pastor Keen wanted just us," he added; though he did not know if that were true.

"I am coming too," Alice said defiantly. She dragged her hand from his.

"No, you are not!" Carson said, regretting that he told her. When they reached their parents, the first thing that Alice did was announce that she was going to be practicing all summer in Carson's band.

Xavier gave him an astonished look and Carson shrugged. What would it hurt if the little girl tagged along anyway? It would not hurt anybody.

Chapter Three

Alice sat at the poolside of the Apple Motel in the early morning. The sun had just come up. The day was still somewhat cool. The motel was situated on a hill and had a lovely view of the Caribbean Sea, and she inhaled slowly, taking in the beauty of the sunny day and the gentle, surreal, bright blue sea in the distance. She pinched herself again. She could hardly believe that she had finally taken the major step of buying herself a ticket and boarding a plane to Jamaica. When she left ten years before, she had thought that she would never come back, not even for Carson.

She had really wanted to leave and she had feared if she did not she would have gone crazy. What she had not banked on was that leaving this place and these people behind would not solve her problem. It had been a long slow healing for her and even now she was not altogether sure that she was okay.

Yesterday she had cried herself to sleep. She had not done that in years. She had deliberately tried to avoid thinking about this place but coming back had practically flailed her emotions, stripping her of all her defenses and leaving her raw and bleeding in the aftermath.

Just her first step on Jamaican soil was enough to make a tear spring to her eye. When she rented a car and drove into Montego Bay, her emotions were all over the place. Scattered shards of memory, so long in cold storage, were trying to fit themselves back together and solidify into Technicolor glimpses of her past. She contemplated the wisdom of coming back, but she had to. She had to at least set Carson free from their marriage.

Today was day two and already she had found out where Carson had his place. She found out that he had done well for himself. He was not even living in the old neighborhood anymore. That was something she was happy about because she had no intentions of going there to find him. She was never going back to that place. Never.

She was proud of Carson for moving out and moving on. She inhaled deeply. She always knew he had it in him to excel. He had the ambition of ten men in that compact body of his. Over the years, she had allowed herself just small thoughts of Carson. If she had given him any more space in her mind, she would have wanted to come back. Coming back would have been devastating for her.

Her cell phone buzzed beside her and she glanced at it wearily. Her voice was stuffy and sounded husky from her crying bout last night. She answered it anyhow. It was Marsha; her friend who she had left in charge of the hairdressing parlor that she owned in New York.

"Hey, girl," Marsha said, "just checking in."

"I am here," Alice said, "taking in some Caribbean breeze."

"Lucky you." Marsha said enviously. "I would exchange places with you right now."

"No, you wouldn't." Alice sighed. "I am psyching up myself to see my estranged husband."

"And your little girl?" Marsha added.

Alice was silent.

"Come on Alice," Marsha said encouragingly, "Remember you said you would make an effort."

Alice felt a stinging behind her eyes. Her voice had a shaky quality when she answered Marsha. "I am taking it a day at a time, Marsh."

Marsha sighed. "I am sorry for forcing the issue. On a brighter note, I am happy you reached safely. Don't forget to check in with me occasionally, okay?"

"Okay." Alice cleared her throat. "Thanks Marsh, for all your help."