The Heart of Revenge Page 5

  “Me too. Alright, you remember when mi did start put on a whole heap a weight after mi did have Dushawn?”

  “Mhmm.”

  “Is because mi did start take the pearl contraceptive and it was swelling mi up like bull cow. Mi did a look too awful , so mi just done with the contraceptive thing. So ...” She took a second to ponder, then continued, “What you would do if you breed for the pictureman then?”

  I looked through my reflection in the mirror for a moment and contemplated before I spoke the truth,

  “I wouldn’t carry it.”

  Pinky stopped the rubbing, looked at me with a perplexed forehead above her cringed eyes. I kept my head straight, looking pass my reflection in the mirror and looking at Pinky’s befuddled expression in the mirror as she studied my words.

  “You would dash away the belly? Abortion?” Pinky spat in the sink and turned on the pipe to wash it down. Maybe she was disgusted at me, I don't know, or maybe ....

  “Pinky don't tell me you pregnant again! How you can spit so much?”

  My gaze darted to her tummy. It wasn’t high, it seemed normal. She wasn’t pregnant. Was she? Then again, if Pinky really pregnant again. At this point of her life. For a third baby father. She doesn’t have any ambition. Why carry the child and spoil her life? She should’ve aborted her pregnancy from the first time she got pregnant. Like seriously, what Pinky needed to do right now is try to get back on her feet, before she goes back to breeding. Pinky too damn fertile.

  “You too inquisitive. And what wrong if mi breeding?” She took a second to consider what to say to me. Her next sentence came out slow, “No mi not breeding. Answer mi question. You would do abortion?”

  “Then what else you expect mi to do? Mi not even finish college yet. How can I go have a child now?”

  “Carry the baby! ... After is not the baby tell you to go take man and go breed.” Her brows knitted tighter, “So how you turn ’round want to kill the little baby for your mistake?”

  “Mi not spoiling my life to have baby, that can wait. I have a plan for my life and I’m not making through pregnancy I end up being somewhere in life I never planned for... Not when I can do something ’bout it.” I remembered Mom’s advice and repeated it to Pinky, “Sometimes doing something good is doing the lesser evil.”

  “The baby is your life. What spoil life you talking ’bout? Anyway your life turn out with the baby, is same so God write your life. You can plan your route in life but God decide your destination.” She got harsh, “God wouldn’t make you breed if him never plan it.”

  I snapped around sharply to face her, my motion dragged the hem of the gown, it slid over her palm and right out her hand.

  “God wouldn’t let me abort it if he didn't plan it! My voice was louder than hers.”Mi plan my life and mi not making what happen to YOU come and happen to ME.”

  “Mi proud of my two youth them. Mi don’t shame.”

  "What about stretch marks?”

  “After mi don’t have none, look how mi belly still pretty. And even if mi did have, that is nothing to be ashamed about. That natural.”

  “Still think you have them too early. What if you did stick to your plan to be a lawyer and never make baby spoil the picture? Is not like you did dunce at school. If you did give your life a shot at education I’m sure you would find a way to hustle the money for college. Right now you would be a lawyer. But instead, look how your life hard now.” Pinky was thinking deeply, near meditating, she knew I was speaking the truth, as I mouthed to her, “Things could be better Pinky, trust mi. Just with one surgery.”

  “Your brain must be spoiling inside your head. You mad my girl? Mi can’t imagine my life without Perry and Dushawn. Is mi heartbeat them. Mi couldn’t have the heart to do that. Look how much woman have abortion and can’t breed after. Them sorry. Mi not running them risk to come condemn my womb. Look how mi two son them sweet.”

  “Well, if you waited till after college you babies would still look sweet. Look how you brown.”

  “You love talk ’bout brown eeh. You prejudice?” Pinky looked in the mirror and straightened the bosom of her dress. Of course I would love my baby to have pretty hair and pretty brown complexion, but I couldn’t have said that to Pinky. She would’ve said I was too prejudice. Not saying I wouldn’t want a black baby, if so be the case then fine, I would love him just the same. But if I had a choice, I would pick the pretty hair, just like Mommy picked Dad. Pinky was still chatting, “At least no gal can’t call mi belly cemetery, or call mi skull in a belly.” She looked away from the mirror, I remembered Mom saying, ‘Gossip are words of wind and can only hurt you if you let it.’ I couldn’t care less what others may say. Pinky’s hand froze at her bosom, her unmoving face asked, “You ever do it yet?”

  There was a short delay before I returned an answer.

  “No sis. But if Nathan get mi pregnant mi not carrying it at all. Nathan not even have nothing. Look how you a suffer because you breed for men that have nothing. Sorry, I don’t want that life, mi love myself too much for that.”

  “Mi will badger-badger with them. If Father God never want mi have no youth, him wouldn’t bless mi with them.” The air of contention between us was stiff. She’d not let go her dumb point. Always hard-headed, stubborn and persistent. I got fed up, blew a small fuse.

  “That’s STUPID! Hsst. You responsible for your actions in life, not God, and first of all God don't even support sex before marriage, so why him would plan to have you breed two time outside marriage? Eeh?” Pinky couldn’t answer my question, she just blankly stared, like a dumb cow. “We are all accountable for where our life go based on our decisions and actions, we are responsible to correct our wrongs. If it’s a mistake like with Nathan. I would deal with it. Plain and simple.”

  “Who you calling stupid? You go church more than mi, don’t you know it’s a sin? Thou shall not kill! And if there was an eleventh commandment it would be, ‘Thou shall not dash away belly.’ Cause it wrong.”

  “Well, if you get pregnant again. Now. In this hard stage of your life and carry the baby you not stupid, you is a frigging IDIOT! .... What you want in life? Better? Or Bitter? Pick.”

  Silence. Pinky’s mouth came to a rare standstill and desisted from speaking, briefly. She fell back into deep thoughts, reflecting perhaps, or absorbing what I had said, finally getting it through to her tough skull. Pinky choose her words carefully as she spoke unusually slow and weak,

  “Aubrea did have it hard.” She paused for a breath, her voice soft as a lover’s voice across from you on the next pillow, she looked into my eyes, her eyes filled with genuine emotions and asked,

  “What if Aubrea did abort you?”

  We both went silent. I could hear Pinky’s breathing. The dripping of the water from the pipe sounded like God’s clock ticking. Drip ... drip ... drip.

  Pinky slowly took the tail of my gown and softly brushed away the rolly remains of the wet tissue off the gown. Drip ... drip ... drip.

  “Lee! Lee!” the shout was coming from the living room. I felt like I lost control of my bodily functions because I am sure as tax, Pinky gonna make this extra when she’s informing to Mom.

  Drip … drip … drip.

  CHAPTER 7

  Daddy Wishes Son Dirt

  by: Qwan Douglas

  “A Limo at the gate Mr. Douglas.” Our security, Mr. Willie, said over the inter-com. Dad replied.

  “Let him in Willie.”

  Willie did, and my best-man, Carl, walked from beside me, heading out of the downstairs’ hall we were in and to the Limo driver outside. I was in full white with a pink tie, nervous but ready, my pants the exact length it should be. I never thought I would ever have a woman propose to me, but Leelia loved me so much that she did. She knelt on one knee and proposed to me in front of everyone in the crowd. Dad stood at one end of the elongated-shaped table and I stood at the other end. He had to lift his voice in order to reach my ears because of the distance that we stood apa
rt from each other.

  “Qwan, you sure you want to go through with this, huh?”

  "How many times you gonna ask mi the same question Dad?”

  It took Carl two hefty pulls to open the entry door. It was a heavy Honduran custom-made door carved from mahogany wood. It was stained in cherry to compliment the emerald tinted, decorative glass panels in the center, accented with gold strips all the way around. Carl pulled with too much strength the second try and the door swung wide open. The white stretch Limo was just pulling up by our semi-circular layered steps. The white marble column to the left blocked my view of the driver’s door, I could only see the middle portion. The windows were tinted jet black and even the tyres were glistening. I walked off from the table to the door, after about twenty steps I had reached the other end of the table where Dad was standing. He grabbed my hand and pulled it, shifting my jacket sleeve out of place and squeezing my watch. He had a dead serious stare and he kept his stare dead into my eyes.

  “Put it this way then Qwan, you must NOT marry that girl.”

  I yanked my hand out of his.

  “If you don't have anything good to say then just don’t. Why you not happy for me?”

  "You just think about what you doing before you make this big mistake, I’m telling you. What about Shamelle huh? She’s a nice girl. She loves ya.” I began straightening the sleeve of my Jacket,

  “Made up my mind, love it or hate it, I’m marrying Lee. She’s the one for me.”

  “Shamelle is a better girl, listen to your father, mi know things.”

  Carl came back through the door to ask me,

  "You ready Q?”

  “Not yet, just give mi a minute.” Carl pulled out the white rag he has been pat-drying my sweat with, he flagged it out and looked as if he wanted to come over to see if I needed it. He budged forward but stopped, stared, recognised an unpleasant tension between father and son and said,

  “Cool, cool, hurry though, is soon time and you suppose to reach before the bride remember.” Carl went back out, glanced over his shoulder with a doubtful expression.

  “I can't understand what’s the big deal. Why you acting so strange since I told you I’m marrying Lee? Look, it doesn’t change anything. We basically married anyway, look how long we living together, why it’s a problem all of a sudden if we get married?”

  "You don’t know the half, just take mi foolish advice and don’t marry that girl if you know what’s good for you.”

  "I love her. She’s the one I love, she never cheated and despite the games you played lastnight to have her not marry me, she still wants to marry me. How many women would still stick by their man’s side after lastnight? How many women would turn around and still marry me the next day. How many?” My neck began to perspire and I needed Carl with the rag.

  “Get this straight Qwan, she don’t want you, you hear mi?”

  "She’s marrying me Dad, me. Are you jealous? Is that it? I see the way you look at her, you think I don't know what you are up to? You think everything’s a secret? It will never happen, NEVER! Not while I still have breath.”

  “Watch your fucking tongue boy. You think mi and you’s size.”

  “Watch your tongue old man.”

  “So you think you’re a big shot now huh? Can’t hear, then you must feel, remember mi did warn you.”

  "Why now? Why you didn’t have a problem from six years ago when you took her to the house? Why now?”

  “Listen, I’m your father. You think I want anything bad to happen to you? You don’t know what happened why Leelia stayed at our house. You marrying her was not a part of the plan.”

  "Plan? What plan?”

  “Her mother is a little ..., she ripped me off, the deal was to —- ”

  Carl barged through the door and interrupted.

  “Yow, wrap that up nuh, time going enuh, you have to leave out now.”

  I shot back at Carl.

  "What's the damn problem? You deaf? You don't hear mi say mi soon come?”

  Carl held his head down like a shame puppy and walked back through the door.

  “Just listen to mi son. I know her mother good, and she’s just like her mother. No different. She is nothing but a whoring ghetto slut. She’s all about your money, not you. They are thieves and they’ll do anything for money.”

  What if ... Hold on, I have been giving Leelia a lot of money recently, but ... then again, I am her man, her fiancé right? Who else she should have turned to for help? And if I can help her, why not? She’s my other half. It’s not like she spending the money doing crap, she going school, even though I suggested paying her school fee, so that don’t even count, but Dad have a point that ... Hsst ... something’s in something.

  “I’ll give her anything I damn well please, anything she wants. That’s love. You wouldn’t understand that now, would you? And just so you know, I know what you did with Shamelle, and I know you must have tried it with Lee and it didn’t work why you hate her so much and telling all manner of lies on my wife.”

  “I swear, I’ve never made a move at Lee and just so YOU know, Shamelle’s the one who came on to me.”

  “Either way, she is a bitch. And you want me to marry her? You disgust mi.”

  “If you marry that slut then you’ll see disgust.”

  “I’m marrying Leelia and nothing in this world will change that.”

  “Then you’ll have to get out my house.”

  “I’ll pack tomorrow.”

  I turned my back. Walked off.

  “SON!” I stopped stepping, turned around. “Listen, you can stay here, but I’m telling you, she’s real bad news. Crosses ontop of crosses ontop of of crosses. Don’t marry that little slut.”

  "She’s no SLUT! She’s my woman, my wife, try to understand that. She’ll be the mother of my kids, take it or leave it, nothing’s going to change that. Now, you don't have to come to my wedding now, do you?”

  Silence.

  "How’s it going to look if I don't go to my son’s wedding ... It’s going to look too bad.”

  "Don't worry about what people say, they already saying much worse things about you.”

  “Like what?”

  “Whatever you gave them to say.”

  “It’s Ok, it’s Ok, I’ll be there. Can’t say mi never warn you. It’s her mother setting her up to run all kind of game on you. For your money.”

  “BYE!”

  I didn't look back. The happiest day of my life, worst morning ever. Dad just stood still, he was statued because it’s my first time talking back at him so hard, not backing down and disregarding blatantly what he ordered me to do. And it’s all over one girl. Lee. I slammed the heavy door behind me. Carl swung open the limousine’s back door. Can’t help but to think that there’s something more to this puzzle, something I’m missing, what if Dad’s right? What if I shouldn’t marry Lee? What if it’s a huge mistake? But deep down in me, my gut feeling tells me it’s something personal, some vendetta or something, maybe something personal between him and Lee’s mother, or is it jealousy? I bent my head down, put one hand down on the cushiony white leather seat as I climbed into the limo. Sat. Tugged on the lapels of my jacket, Carl stared at me but didn't ask any questions. It was obvious I was furious and chit chat wasn’t particularly timely now. I looked away from him. The limo drove by the fountain, I stared at the running water sprouting up from the mouth of the fish statue in the middle of the fountain and thought, a deal gone sour maybe?

  Jealousy, deal, vendetta? I pondered them all as I signalled back a hail to Mr. Willie. We drove through the wide iron gate. Which one could it be, One? Or two? All?

  Jealousy? A deal? Vendetta?

  What plan was dad talking about by the way?

  CHAPTER 8

  Death, His Final Supper, Served As a Hearty Breakfast

  by: Leelia Lexings

  Breakfast. Mommy was through frying up some saltfish frittas with the eskellion and blackpepper in it, alongside some fran
kfurters, some boiled green bananas and liver and she also made some peppermint tea.

  “Who’s going to take the pictures?” Mommy was waving the silver camera in the air, anticipating a stampede from us to snatch the camera out her slim feminine fingers. No one budged. No one did as much as even shift the black of their eyes to the camera.

  She looked both sides, turned, her eyes searched behind her, not seeing who she wanted she gave out,

  “Vance .... Vance .... Where’s Vance?”

  Ms. Merl full-eyed little baby girl, Loriel, zoomed by me. I could’ve swore I saw a pink wind tailing off her little white dress at the speed she ran by. The pink high-waistband was untied and blowing behind the bubbly little doll as she zig-zagged between everyone and around the furniture in the livingroom. She was giggling at the playful Lassy chasing right behind her. Lassy’s fluffy black tail and long-furred ears was blowing and his tongue out to the side as he chased her. Jason, Qwan’s little cousin, was the third in line, chasing behind Lassy. Loriel would be the flowers girl, she was like family. We told everyone she was our little cousin because she spent most of her time over by our house, mostly with Vance.

  Pinky answered Mommy.

  “Him must still be over the old woman yard.”

  “Ms. Merl still? But everybody ready, what’s wrong with that boy, him not getting ready?”

  “Mi you asking?” Pinky sounded dry and rhetorical. Mommy turned her mouth towards the window, bellowed,

  “Vaaance! Vaaance!”

  “Yes Mom! Coming.” came sounding from the distance next door.

  “ Come get ready now.”

  “Coming Mom.”

  “Stop the coming and come.”

  Vance jogged through the door within the next blink, no shirt, broad flat chest, sweat running over his dark nipples onto his light brown skin. His hands so big, they looked like two claws detached from plough tractors and attached to his shoulders. Both his hands caked with mud up to his wrist, looking like the ugliest pair of gloves, something only Mr. Death would wear when taking your life too early. Death was on his hands.