Island Songs (22 page)

Jacob slammed down his bottle in a moment of rare vexation. He caught Cilbert with an intense stare. “Yuh ’ave never been ah religious mon ’ave yuh, Cilbert? So yuh don’t know of de comfort of ah good Christian life cyan give to so many people. I am
not
ignorant, Cilbert. While me der inna Claremont I get to learn about de sufferation of de people inna Kingston.” Jacob raised his voice. “Yuh don’t understan’, Cilbert. When ah people ’ave not’ing, nuh money, nuh material t’ings, nuh roof over dem head.
Not’ing
! Den all is lef’ is faith. An’ dat faith lead to hope. Widout hope der will be chaos an’ anarchy. So I see it as long as I provide hope, my time inna Kingston will
never
be wasted! Do yuh understan’?”

“Nuh need to get vex,” cut in Jenny, smiling at her husband but her eyes still betraying her embarrassment.

“Dat is alright, Jenny,” soothed Cilbert, blowing his smoke over Hortense’s head. “It’s true. Me nah religious but at least me nah like dem uptown people who gwarn ah Catholic church ’pon ah Sunday marnin an’ ignore de beggar when dem step outta church wid der high an’ mighty selves. Me like an’ admire any mon who feels ah mighty passion about him beliefs. Dat is fine by me. But de downtown people need more dan passion. Me fader tell me once dat de white mon give de black slave de Bible to read. But dis was ah trap. Ah trap to mek de black mon believe dat all der suffering will be alright becah dem will get der redemption when dem dead, gwarn to heaven an’ live an everlasting life full ah milk an’ honey. It was ah cruel trickster trick to mek dem obedient. Jacob, yuh don’t read de words an’ psalms ah Solomon? Yes, me don’t go to church now but when me ah bwai chile me read me Bible like everyone else.
Every
day.”

Jenny leant in closer to Cilbert, impressed by his last statement.
Hortense yawned, making it clear she was becoming bored of the conversation – she had heard this issue being debated many times in the government yard.

Cilbert continued. “De mighty Solomon say.” Cilbert sang in a soft whisper, closing his eyes and recalling his days of churchgoing. Concentration lined his forehead and a grimace tickled his cheeks. “
By de rivers ah Babylon. Where we sat down. An’ where we wept, when we remembered our home land. Dey tek we away in captivity an’ required from we ah song. But how cyan we sing der Lord’s song when we der inna strange land
.”

Now breathing easier, Jacob controlled his temper, stood up and dismissed Cilbert with a lingering eye pass. In response, Cilbert kissed Hortense upon the cheek and gave her a hug. Jenny looked away to the traffic. “Yuh should nah twist de words ah de mighty Solomon,” Jacob warned, his tone back to normal. “De song don’t quite go like dat. Anyone waan ah nex’ drink?” he offered, not wanting to prolong the argument.

Cilbert looked offended. He raised his voice. “
Dat
is how me grandpapa used to sing it an’ him
never
wrong. De point ah de matter is, Jacob, is dat me ah look fe heaven ’pon earth. Me don’t waan to suffer all me life an’ den get me reward when me dead like how the white mon Bible promise. Nuh, sa! Dat is why me work so hard. Becah me waan me reward while me still alive. So me cyan enjoy it. Watch me, sa! See inna t’ree or four years when me come back from England dat me don’t live inna mighty house up der ah Strawberry Hill! Hortense, one day yuh affe tek Jacob up der an’ show him Miss Martha’s fine mansion. When ah mon see ah house like dat, how cyan him be satisfy wid him government yard or shanty hut?”

Jacob took four strides before turning around and replying to Cilbert. “I respect ah mon wid healt’y ambition. But careful, Cilbert, fe de somet’ing dat mon love de most, cyan kill him also. De Most High is ah jealous God. Remember how de Israelites mek false idols an’ Massa God get vex. When Moses come down from him mountain an’ see wha’ happen, Moses ketch ah rage.”

“Yes, me know dat story, Jacob,” replied Cilbert. “But Moses had
plenty ambition. Him was ah High Priest an’ did waan to challenge Pharoah power an’ assert him belief of de one God. De sun God of Akhenaten.”

Jacob momentarily froze, as if struck by something deep within his soul. “
Beware
! Don’t talk of such t’ings, Cilbert. Becah de Most High lissen to every conversation an’ cyan read every intention an’ every mon’s desire. My brudder believes dat too an’ now he lives inna de bush.”

Jenny felt her husband’s words penetrate her heart and wondered if they were indirectly aimed at her. Surely he doesn’t know? Jenny thought. When Jacob returned with a tray of fresh drinks, Jenny made an effort to side up to her husband and place her right arm over his shoulders. Jacob, not used to public displays of affection from his wife, began to regale his friends with anecdotes and tales about his former Claremont valley parishioners. They all laughed but underneath their happy facial expressions they all yearned for the trustworthiness and familiarity of the people they grew up with.

Preparing to leave, Cilbert downed the last of his Red Stripe bottles. “Well, Jenny, now yuh arrive mebbe me will find dinner cooked when me reach home from work.”

“Yes, me love to cook,” said Jenny excitedly.

Hortense looked obviously annoyed. “How cyan yuh expect dinner when some night me still ah work up der ah Miss Martha? Yuh cyan’t tek up ya two hand an’ cook fe yaself? Lazy ya lazy! Yuh expect woman to do everyt’ing?”

“But sometime yuh reach home before me an’ instead ah cooking me somet’ing nice yuh gone off wid Miss Laura to help sell her goods. Ya first priority
is
me!”

“Cilbert, me sick an’ tired ah yuh keep vexing about dis argument! Yuh know how me stay! Miss Laura one of me bes’ frien’ an’ she help we out many time. So me help her out. So quiet ya mout’, gum ya lip an’ accept de situation. Remember, we live ’pon de money me mek from Miss Martha. Ya money pay de rent an’ use fe saving. Remember dat.”

Cilbert and Hortense kept on quarrelling until they reached
home. Jenny had discovered that the single room and kitchen apartment had been divided by three white bedsheets hanging on a length of cord. When Jenny retired to bed beneath a single pink sheet, she made sure she was nearest to the hanging bed linen. Laying on her side with Jacob snuggled up behind her, Jenny could see Cilbert’s naked, silhouetted body, formed by the moonlight, moving in front of her. She found herself becoming excited and willed herself to look away. But she couldn’t. Every movement of Cilbert’s limbs was studied as he combed his hair before bed. By the sound of his gentle whispering and his shadowed body language, Jenny guessed that Cilbert was attempting to make up for the row he and Hortense had. Without blinking she watched Cilbert lay on top of Hortense and heard the moans and pleasures of love-making. She knew they were both naked and was surprised at their absence of inhibitions. Cilbert’s silhouette was now joined with Hortense’s and Jenny finally closed her eyes, dreaming that she could be the one to feel Cilbert’s body pressing down upon her.

Forcing his crotch against the curve of Jenny’s backside and laying a hand upon her left breast, Jacob suffered a pinch upon his penis – an indication that Jenny was not prepared to make love tonight. Jacob would discover that attempting to make love while Hortense and Cilbert were in the apartment was simply a forlorn hope. He would have to bribe Cilbert with a wink to take Hortense out for the evening or visit friends. “Wha’ ah palava!” Cilbert would giggle. “Even Preacher Mon get peckish from time to time.”

Jacob became very popular with the people of Trenchtown. He spoke with the same tone of voice to everyone and looked people directly in the eye from the poorest shanty-town dweller to the uptown business man. Indeed, on Saturday mornings he would rise early and tour around the roughest areas of downtown, offering words of hope and encouragement. But even the Trenchtown moochers were shocked when Jacob ventured into the ‘Dungle’ district of Kingston – a massive rubbish dump area where the poorest of the poor and rastafarians squirmed out a living from whatever materials and rotten foods the downtown people had no use for. The stench of human waste, multiplying insects and
crippled children did not bother him. It was only the looks of resignation that kept him awake at nights. Cilbert, vividly describing the ‘wild, dutty haired ones wid der blood eyes’ had warned Jacob that he was laying himself open for a mugging but Jacob ignored him, remembering the counsel of his brother, Levi. Jacob would say to Cilbert, “aren’t dey de people of de Most High? Don’t dey deserve to hear de word of God? Ya ever see ah picture of Jesus wid short hair? Yuh forget dat Christ allowed John de Baptist to pour water over him head even though de disciples an’ everyone else ah say dat John de Baptist was ah dutty, wild-haired mon? Why should de people ah de Dungle be forsaken becah dem wear dem hair long?”

Jenny found work cooking in a downtown restaurant that was frequented by many men who lived on the hustle. She soon admonished the patrons who let slip Jamaican swear words. She also constantly reminded them of their ‘thank you’s’ and ‘please’s’ and she was quickly accepted as a ‘lovable eccentric wid country ways’. Even the bad men would greet her with, “marnin, Miss Jenny. May de Most High bless yuh ’pon dis good day.” Jenny, enjoying the respect that was offered her, would bid in farewell, “don’t forget to say grace before ya supper”. The criminals and political thugs would lope away half-smiling and went to perform whatever badness that they had always done.

On Sunday afternoons Jenny tutored a Sunday school class set up for her by Jacob. She discovered that the children who were illiterate were also hungry. So in response Isaac used some of the collection money from his church in order to purchase food and cook large pots of beef stew for the children before their classes. Soon, the sessions became over-subscribed and parents fought each other for their children’s places. Jacob’s idealistic notion became unworkable and he was forced to return to just providing writing and reading lessons. Subsequently, many of the illiterate children stopped attending and this preyed on Jacob’s mind.

Encouraged by their neighbours to stay in Kingston for the Christmas festivities, Hortense, Jenny and Jacob could only admire the creativity of the Trenchtown people. Tenement buildings,
sidewalks and shopfronts were scrubbed and whitewashed to brighten up the environment and give it a Christmas feel. Corkscrewed orange, tangerine and avocado peels were hanging on strings from the ceilings of residents verandahs in improvised decoration. Oil lamps were hanging outside doors. Nativity paintings suddenly appeared on street walls. Only the Trenchtown rastafarians were offended with images of a white baby Jesus but most people didn’t care what they thought. The soothing sound of hymns and carols echoing from all over Kingston never ceased.

On Christmas day morning, Hortense, Jenny and their spouses escorted Kolton, Oliver and their offspring to the seafront where hundreds of Trenchtown children enjoyed free boat rides in the harbour. They journeyed close to the ruins of Port Royal and the adults, pointing to the bottom of the sea, told the children about the sinful pirates who once inhabited the bay; Jacob departed the boat on groggy legs and brought up his cornmeal porridge breakfast upon the shore.

Following a communal dinner of roast pig and every kind of trimming that could be thrown in the blackened pots, everyone made their way to Hope Botanical Gardens where they clapped and cheered the marching Alpha Boys band – teenage orphans who were cared for by Catholic nuns. Indeed, graduates of the Alpha school were now making a living as top session musicians for the blossoming Kingston recording industry; entrepreneurs such as Prince Buster and Sir Coxsone, unlike the controllers of Jamaican broadcast radio, recognised the public demand for Jamaican songs and lyrics and had set up their own record labels.

Watching the Alpha Boys march by, Hortense, unable to resist the urge, grabbed Cilbert’s hand and began dancing. Jenny, not wanting to make a spectacle of herself, quietly handed out leaflets advertising the sermon Isaac would present for midnight mass.

As Christmas night fell, Cilbert surprised Hortense by hailing a taxi and taking her to Hellshire Beach, a quiet strip of golden sand ten miles west of Kingston that was fringed with occasional palm and mango trees. There, under a perfect navy-blue sky where in the distance they could see the harbour lights of Kingston stretching
out in a long curve, they drank from a bottle of coconut rum punch that Cilbert had prepared. “Isn’t dis better dan sitting inna Jacob’s church ah lissen to de same old story dat we hear when we pickney?” smiled Cilbert. “Life is fe living an’ yuh affe enjoy it. De Christian way of life is all about preparing for deat’. Hortense, me heaven is inna dis world wid yuh! Let we drink to dat. Me an’ yuh.”

“But Jenny was so vex,” replied Hortense. “It will tek her some time to forgive we fe nah supporting Jacob’s sermon.” Hortense then took in her surroundings and broke out into a glorious smile, downing a generous gulp of coconut-rum. They then made love with the gentle, frothing waves soothing and cooling their naked calves. They could both hear the music from a sound system that had set up on a beach two miles away. Under a half-moon sky that illuminated a strip of the calm waters of the Caribbean sea that stretched to the horizon, a rastafarian fisherman, paddling into shore in his red, gold and green painted canoe, observed the couple and laughed.

Hortense excitedly told Jenny of Cilbert’s romantic gesture and soon after Jenny informed Hortense of her plans to return to Claremont for the New Year and visit Papa who had been sick. “Yuh nah come wid me, Hortense?” Jenny said accusingly. “Me stay inna Kingston wid yuh fe Christmas but yuh cyan’t come wid me to Claremont? Selfish ya selfish!”

“Me cyan’t go,” answered Hortense. “Miss Martha waan me to cook dinner fe her guests ’pon New Year’s Eve.”

“Tell Miss Martha to learn to cook fe herself! Don’t she know yuh ’ave family?”

“She been good to me an’ me don’t waan to let her down. An’ she cyan cook fe herself! As long as me watching her.”

Jenny cut her eyes at Hortense and proceeded to pack her clothes.