The Heart of Revenge Page 6

  Pinky burst out laughing,

  “Is farm work you doing now Pops?”

  “No, mi just helping Ms. Merl with her flowers.”

  ‘Again? That can’t wait?” Mommy interrupted, “You forget today is your sister wedding?”

  “Yeah mi remember but mi just helping her with the new garden fence, since mi done did promise her already.”

  Mommy’s phone rang and the vibration made a humming ‘bbbbrrr’ sound on the wooden table top as it danced.

  (((Rrring. Rrring.)))

  (((Rrring. Rrring.)))

  She quickly snatched up her phone to catch the call, in too much haste, shifting and crumpling the burgundy tablecloth. She looked at the caller ID, thought twice. With her eyes fixed on the phone screen, her thumb crept slowly to rejecting the call. She carefully placed the phone back on the table, looked up, switching looks at me, Daddy and then Pinky without moving her head, only shifted her eyes side to side then looked away from everyone, avoiding eye contact, lowered back her head down to the table, kept it there, her face looked lost, her thoughts way out of this time-zone. Worried perhaps.

  Loriel zoomed from around the corner, giggling, one of her dolly-like hand holding the tail of her dress. She heard Vance’s voice and made an instant U-turn in the middle of the livingroom, she is slightly tilted forward while running towards Vance, looking as if she’s about to stumble forward on her face. She was chuckling, Lassy chasing close behind her, Jason behind Lassy. In her baby talk she said ‘Uncle Vance’ but it came out as,

  “Hunko Vance, Hunko Vance.” She charged towards Vance with his mud covered hands, in her pretty white dress.

  Her baby smile brought smile to everyone’s face , her tiny arms wide open to hug around Vance’s long legs, her chubby cheeks squashing against his knees, eyes closed, giggling

  “Hunko, hunko” squeezing his legs tight and wouldn’t let go.

  Vance bent to lift her up. Mom phone rang again, she grabbed up the phone and yelled at Vance,

  “No! No Vance, your hands.” He froze half-way bending to pick up Loriel then straightened back up. Mom put her phone under the table, looked at the caller Id. Rejected the call.

  “Hey Lorie baby,” Vance said looking down on her flowy hair which would be dancing at her shoulders if it weren’t bunched up in a bun today and tied with a pink ribbon. The ribbon matched the high waistband around her white dress. Lassy was in a playful mood and wouldn’t leave from behind her, he snuffed and nudged at her back, panting impatiently, kind of signalling, ‘Hey let’s go, let go of his leg and let’s go play, come on, come on, run’. She paid Lassy no mind, giggling and baby-talking to Vance,

  “Wif mi up Hunko, wif mi up, tehehe.”

  “Can’t lift you up now baby, mi hands dirty.” Lassy urged her to run and play with a single bark, that caused Mom to jerk. She looked suspiciously around. Lassy nudged Loriel with his wet nose. She slapped Lassy on top of his head and shoots off, giggling in a high pitched voice. Lassy sprang off in a happy chase behind her. Jason followed Lassy grabbing at his shiny black tail. Mom’s phone rang again.

  (((Rrring. Rrring.)))

  (((Rrring. Rrring.)))

  Mommy stared at Pinky. Pinky wasn’t looking at her, she was looking at Vance. Mommy looked back at her phone, rejected the call. Planted the phone in between her lap under the table and began typing a text. Pinky laughed out as she watched Vance and Loriel in adulation,

  “No man! Sure that little girl not yours? Is how she love you so much man?”

  It sounded like a compliment. Children seemed to just love Vance, Loriel was one of them, but obviously by the dirty eyes and the tension in Vance’s hardened look at Pinky, you could tell Vance took it as an offense. He assumed she was throwing an insult at him, by saying he’d sleep with the old woman, Ms. Merl, next-door. Which to me, by the way, would still be better than him being a twenty-one year old virgin. I waltzed over to take a chair beside Mommy, her phone dinged as a text came in to reply to hers. She read it and was replying to it while she replied to Pinky also,

  “I don’t know why every little children round the place love him off so much.”

  Pinky wasn’t talking to Mommy. She rolled her eye at Mom, turned her back and walked straight out of the room while Mommy was talking to her. Mommy turned her head to Pinky walking out and called out to her,

  “Pinky, remember we taking some picture now, don't leave yet.”

  Pinky didn’t stop walking nor did she looked back at Mom, but she did look back at me and with a mischievous laugh she replied,

  “Mi don’t want take not a picture .. ask the one beside you, ’cause it look like she love take picture.” She did her mix-up laugh, a big deep belly laugh “Wooii,” and trailed off adding, “Mi gone pee-pee.”

  Loriel’s giggling could be heard in the distance. Vance looked at me with a scrunched forehead, I could see his brain muscling, trying to figure out what Pinky meant by that. He knew Pinky meant something more from her laugh and gesture. Mommy turned and she too knitted her forehead at me. She knew I hated pictures. So what was Pinky talking about? Mommy put her phone down on the table. I looked away from everyone and gazed at my black shadow that was on the table. The light from Mom’s phone was fading to black, fading, fading until the light disappeared and her phone returned to black. The light in my shame also went out.

  I felt squeezed, the room felt tight around me, Mommy asked.

  “When since you love take picture?”

  The outside roof of my nose tip was spotted with tiny round sweats and my palms were getting wetter. I answered.

  “Me?... Me? ... I. I don't.”

  “So what Pinky talking ’bout?”

  “I’m clueless. Pinky just love chat.” Pinky’s voice excitedly bellowed from all the way down the hallway.

  “Mi body! RAAAEE!!”

  Mommy turned both eyebrows inward at me. Afterward, she relaxed her face, gently placed one hand over mine, her other hand wiping the sweat off my nose,

  “You really nervous eeh honey?”

  “Yeah. Today is really big.”

  “You know you have to pull through with this right? You know this is the only way.”

  “Don’t worry Mom.” I took a short thought about things, then comforted her. “I know. You stop worry. Ok?”

  “I’m not worrying. Just remember you doing the right thing, OK?” She squeezed my hand and looked toward Vance. I knew how important it was to Vance. I had the urge to wipe my sweating palms on the side of my gown but I didn't want to wrinkle it, I wanted my dress to remain looking neat. Vance used one muddy finger to scratch at the liverspot on his shoulder and Mom said,

  “Vance everyday you helping this lady with garden, you can’t be working out yourself so much for people like an idiot enuh. She paying you?”

  “No. But she’s old Mom. What’s wrong with helping her?”

  Mommy would do anything in the world to help her children, herself and whoever she cared about, but everyone else she didn’t give jack-shit about. She hated to see any of us giving away anything. That’s the only thing about Mommy that irritated me. I butted in,

  “Nothing’s wrong with him helping out the little old lady, leave him alone.”

  “Is something she looking from a young boy. From her husband dead she just take a set on Vance so, is like every damn day she have work giving him to do.”

  Vance stared at Mommy with some amazement at how cold her comment was. Mommy wasn’t fazed by his glare at her, continued in a nonchalant tone,

  “You can stay there looking at mi. You better mind you give her what she looking for. She so old you might give her heart attack same time too.”

  Immediately, Vance face saddened, as if a ghost had drained all the joy out his face. He heard the word heart attack and it triggered an alarm button in him about his terminal heart condition. He would probably die soon. He looked away from his mother, bowed his head down and used one muddy hand to slowly wipe the other
muddy hand.

  I felt sorry for him. I felt my eyes quivering in their sockets. I wanted to cry. If I could give him my heart I would in the blink of an eye. I would do anything to save his life. In February when he got his worst attack ever, I had to pay Dr. Reid four thousand U.S. Dollars that I didn't have, well actually it was Qwan’s money but whichever way you looked at it, it’s still a lot of money, especially since Qwan had just paid my tuition and in the next two months my tuition is due again for the new school year again.

  Its eating me alive to know that after marrying him, I have to ask him not for an additional four thousand U.S. for Vance’s medication next year, but for forty thousand US for Vance’s surgery. I felt like I was using him, just an opportunist and I didn’t want to use anyone, especially since Qwan had been there for me since I was fourteen. I’m marrying him for the wrong reason. I didn't want to marry for the sake of getting his money. I didn't want to use him. But I needed to get forty thousand US for Vance. I had no choice. I looked at Vance and my eyes got wet, I tried to steady my voice and liven up Vance,

  “Vance come on man, you’re living, you OK, you not gonna die, stop acting like you dead already. Cheer up man.”

  The pain wasn’t well hidden underneath my awkward smile that I tried to fake. Vance could see the pain, the worry, the uncertainty of living. He was looking at me but not seeing me. He was in a deep and reflective zone.

  “How mi must smile? I’m dying in less than a year.” His tone went down. “How you would feel?” His muddy hands, with palm stretched to me, begging me to answer, “How? Put yourself in my shoes, how?” An ugly dropping of mud fell from his hand to the floor. Mom, Vance and I stared at the brown splat that fell. No smile. Just stared. In pain. Hurting.

  My heart moved, the tears came running down my face. The silence in the room seemed to stand there for a year. I finally broke the silence.

  “Everything’s gonna be OK after today,” Stifling my cry, I stumbled over the word, I. “I...I ...I” deep inhale, gathered myself “I talk with ... with Dr. Reid. Arranged everything already .... Everything’s gonna be OK. I’m certain.” I promised him.

  Lying. I was lying. I wasn’t certain things were going to be OK. I felt a heavy weight on my shoulders. I had to marry Qwan for my brother, but I wasn’t certain how things would work out, I just wasn’t.

  Vance’s reply was unexpected. It came as a humungous shock to me and probably to everyone else too.

  CHAPTER 9

  Vance Has A Big Heart

  by: Leelia Lexings

  When Vance was twelve he was a lively twelve year old. In the month of March, when Vance had turned twelve, he didn’t get the royal blue and white BMX bicycle that he wanted for his birthday. But, he did get a bright-yellow and black, handheld textris videogame. He’d never put down his birthday game even if the house was alighted on fire and he was trapped in the middle of the blaze. He’d play with his bright-yellow game all day and even late at nights we would still hear the videogame sounds after Mom shouted,

  “Put down the game and go to your bed nuh little boy!”

  His face would be stuck in the game in total concentration playing to beat his last highest score all the way till the small hours of the morning. He had the proudest smile that shone on a young child’s face whenever he made a new high score - his joy - his complete happiness. Also that March, Mom found out that he had a heart that would kill him. He would be dead before he was thirty-six. She cried so much tears, she soaked the bosom of her blouse straight through. You could wring her eye water out of her blouse. She held the news, contemplated for seven days if she should say it to Vance or not. He was the happiest child on earth. She had a hard time getting enough strength and courage to tell her twelve year old son his heart was going to kill him. She cried while telling him and later that evening she cursed Dad for two hours straight. She was crying her eyes out while she cursed him for turning up the TV too loud. Vance didn’t cry when he got the news and he didn't smile either. He never played his game that night, the day after nor ever again - his joy - his complete mourn.

  What’s happening with his heart was that his heart muscles were overgrown. It’s growing too fast, getting bigger than it should normally be and if he didn’t get a surgery to cut away the excess muscle-growth from his heart then the upper and lower ventricles would grow too big and completely cut off his blood circulation to and from his heart. His heart condition is known as cardiomyopia but Vance simply called it an overgrown heart or the red hearse in his chest.

  Dr. Reid quoted the cost of his surgery in U.S. dollars. It was nineteen thousand U.S. dollars and he needed to get an ICD (Implantable Cardioverter Defibrillator) which would help to regulate his heartbeat. The ICD would use electrical shocks to slows down his heart when it went too fast and speeded it up when it went too slow. Basically, keeping it at a normal pace and preventing sudden cardio attacks that persons with his heart condition were prone to having. But more importantly, the sooner he got one of these ICD implanted the longer he may live. The cost to have the ICD surgically placed in his chest, was twelve thousand U.S. dollars. A total of thirty-one thousand U.S. dollars. Mom didn’t have ten thousand Jamaican dollars in her account and her U.S account was closed with a small balance that was on the minus side after the bank deducted its maintenance charges. Dad had less money than Mom.

  Vance’s heart was big in other ways too. Despite the fact that he would be dying the same age as Jesus Christ, but without the resurrection, he always smiled. Whether it was to hide his pain and concern from everyone or it was genuine, only he could tell.

  Vance spent most of his time on non-strenuous activities such as at the Help the Youths Club (H.Y.C.), and in the garden next door that Ms. Merl had. He seemed to get a sense of relief being with nature and just nurturing it. He wanted to start a garden at home for himself but our yard didn't have the space. Ms. Merl’s garden had sunflowers, daffodils, poinsettias, roses and more. It was a beautiful array of colors and Vance played a huge part in keeping it beautiful.

  No one at HYC or even Ms. Merl knew he had a fatal heart condition. Vance hid his terminal condition from everyone, not wanting to burden anyone and too proud to take a crumb of pity from a soul.

  His favorite channel was GOLTV, he’d watch football till his eyes bled a football-field but when his friends passing by the house kicking a soccer ball to each other, dressed in jersey shorts, tightly laced football boots and old sneakers, his brethren, Patrick, was always the one to stop by our gate and holler,

  “Yow! Sissy Vance, you not kicking some ball?”

  Vance would snatch up the remote, aimed it at the tv and hold down the volume button till it was close to mute. This was his way of hurriedly shoving the sound of the football match he was watching on tv and hiding it behind silence. He always seemed to look at his black and red football boots he had bought four years ago before he answered Patrick. His boots were ontop of the shoe-box it came in and still he had never worn it before. It was still brand new and house dust was in his boots more often than his feet were. His reply would often be,

  “No. Mi have to go help out with something by the club,” and by the club he meant by HYC. His friends all knew it was a lie and knew that was always the answer he gave. They purposely stopped and asked every time they were going to play football just to shout back at him saying,

  “Yow, you a gal! Sissy! Sissy Vance! Mi never see you play no sports yet. You a big sissy! Hahaha.”

  When they were gone, Vance would leave the house and go into the old lady’s next door garden. Even if Ms. Merl wasn’t outside he’d still go into the garden by himself, all alone, just him and the flowers. It was true though. He didn’t play any physical sport and he couldn’t, because it’s a life and death situation with his heart if he ever tried to get too physical. If his heart worked too fast, it may lead to his death, a heart attack.

  And that was how Vance earned the name Sissy Vance. On Saturdays when Mom was at the market
and the healthy footballers were passing by, knowing Mom wasn’t there, they would not call him Sissy Vance. They would call him by the name they called him more freely in the streets, Battyboy-Vance.

  But even with that, Vance would not let anyone know the real reason he could not kick ball with them, nor play any other sport. He remained silent and took all the degrading names, insults and shame.

  In the streets, Vance always wore his navy blue New York cap low to his brows, hiding his eyes. He didn't walk with his chin up either. He kept his eyes on the ground, hoping he would not hear any of his nicknames Sissy-Vance or Battyboy-Vance.

  He had only one close friend and that was Beanie-Boy. Beanie was not like the others. Apart from the fact that he loved fashion and he was hype nuh pussjook, he had never called Vance a sissy. Or a battyboy, even though Beanie wasn’t aware of his heart condition. Vance had no problem lending Beanie his stuff, mostly clothes . I had bought a black leather band watch for Vance for his fourteenth birthday that he really loved, but three weeks after he didn’t have it anymore. Beanie had borrowed it and still hadn’t return it. Vance didn’t have much clothes but Beanie still borrowed Vance’s shoes, shirts. He got in a squabble with Vance when he wanted to borrow Vance’s blue New York cap and Vance told him no.

  On the contrary, because Vance stayed away from parties and going out, he had never borrowed clothes from Beanie. On a couple of occasions when Beanie really wanted stuff from Vance and he refused to lend, him he resorted to calling him a big gal, a bigger gal than Cecile and Angel together, and so. Vance took it, smiled and didn't let it get the best of him and up till that point Beanie still didn’t bring back Vance’s black watch.