Big Island, Small

by Maureen St. Clair

  “Let’s get home and never come out again until all snow done,” Shy said, pulling out of the parking lot.

  “So what about you?” I ask Judith.

  “What about me?”

  “Why aren’t you feeling the same kind of cold? This is your first winter too.”

  “It must be because I got half Big Island blood in me.”

  I imagine her wanting to do all the things with Drey she wanted to do with me this summer. And Drey not having any of it. “Why men stubborn so?” she says.

  I remember Ma Tay saying men come from a different kind of mind. I tell Judith this. Then she asks me if Ma Tay was married to Dolma’s dad. I laugh, remembering Ma Tay telling me Dolma might as well have been born like Jesus conceived immaculately. We both laugh. “That’s the truth,” I say, those are the words she used.

  “So your Ma Tay wake up one day with Dolma in she belly?”

  “That’s what she used to tell Dolma. She used to tell Dolma, ‘Don’t worry yourself about a father. You don’t have one. You don’t need one.’ Of course, Dolma used to fret over this. Everyone used to tell her the man at the post office, the one who sorted and gave out the mail, was her daddy. And truthfully, Dolma said, he looked like her. But all Ma Tay said was ‘I wish that man your father. He good looking oui, and he nice too.’”

  I tell Judith that Ma Tay was happy when Dolma found Shy. I listened in on their phone call once and heard Ma Tay tell Dolma, “Shy sound just like the man at the post office, the man everyone say is your father, the man I never even touch toes with.” Dolma hung up the phone vexed and said to Shy, “The woman still joking about my father, a father she pretend she know nothing about.”

  I tell Judith it pains Dolma not to know who her father is. Dolma once said, “Everyone know everything about everybody on Small Island but no one know who or where my daddy is.” I know Ma Tay is protecting her from some kind of horrific story. I know Dolma knows this too and that’s why she stopped looking for answers long ago.

  It’s late and I want to go and sleep but Judith wants to talk more. She says Drey is in front of the TV and she’d rather be on the phone with me than with Drey. Again my belly goes soft then tight. She asks me if I remember the elder woman from the cabin who came to see if we needed extra wood. I do remember her. I remember her name too. Margaret. She came soon after we got back from the field. She talked fast. And left just as fast too. Judith asks me if I remember her because she says she knows there is a story there. She says she asked Aunt Rachel about Margaret and Aunt Rachel had all kinds of things to say. And not good things. But then I hear Drey asking Judith if there is any flour in the house; he says he wants to make bread. Judith says she’ll call me back. I tell her I have an early class in the morning and to call me tomorrow.

  The next day she texts me instead, says she wishes she could leave Drey in the house and take the bus to come and see me. I start dreaming of Judith coming and hanging out in my room. Me and Judith, not Judith and Drey. Then I don’t hear from her for a couple of days. I am tired of my moods swinging depending whether I hear from her or not. And then when I do get a message I am analyzing and interpreting like I am studying characterization, setting, plot from my contemporary fiction class.

  We stopped communicating regularly after all that shit with Jared and then the cabin seemed to separate us further. I was surprised when she called me wishing she could be with me not Drey. Well that’s what I heard. But then she started sending short chitchat messages about the youth group she joined and the work at the new café and the Lion’s Den. She barely talks about Drey. I wonder if he’s left already. I decide to be as brief as I can with Judith because I am tired of wondering if these same moods might turn into familiar attacks of anxiety and have me walking the streets all hours of the day and night.

  JUDITH

  THE DAY DREY AND I fall out is the same day Shamika from the youth group call me a neophyte. The same day I slam the phone down on Sola; the same day I submerge myself into a tub of hot water; the same day I find myself in the city’s General Hospital and the same day Drey make up his mind to leave.

  After Christmas holidays I pick up regular shifts at the Lion’s Den, work two mornings a week at a coffee shop and volunteer for a youth organization. I keep myself busy from when I wake til the time I step into the empty house. Aunt Rachel on sabbatical for the second half of the school year and left the country for a few months to research and write. Iris and RasI know I leave school but don’t question.

  Iris introduce me to a friend who run a nonprofit youth group in the city. She think I should meet more young people who passionate about arts and social justice. The organization run by the Black Education Society and deal with issues Black youth face in their communities and schools. Iris introduce me to Aziza Bernard, the director, a frequent customer of the Lion’s Den. One afternoon Ms. Bernard come with a group of youth; they sit at a table at the back of the restaurant and practise lines for an upcoming production. Ms. Bernard introduce me while I serve them. “This is Judith everyone; she’s from the Islands and is new to the city. Well a few months new.”

  A blush sweep across my cheeks. I keep my head down, wishing I wear a colour that bring out my colour more.

  “What’s your name again?” a young woman with long plaits loosely tie with a green and purple hair band ask.

  “Judith.”

  “And you come from where again?”

  “Small Island.”

  “You come from the plantocracy set of people?”

  “What?”

  “Just want to know where your roots are from.”

  “My roots from Small Island.”

  I turn and head to the bar. I forget the rest of the drink order. I slap down the tray.

  “What happened to you?” Iris ask.

  “Why people so damn fast?”

  But before Iris can comment Ms. Bernard appear. “Judith don’t worry about Shamika. She gives everyone a hard time. You just have to get used to her direct style. She doesn’t mean anything really.”

  “Why would I have to get used to her style?”

  “Because Iris thought you might want to join the group. We meet twice a week and sometimes much more when we’re planning an event. We would love to have you. And if you say yes you will have to put up with Shamika because she’s not going to change her ways.” Ms. Bernard smiles.

  I glare at Iris organizing the drinks. “Why you think I want to join the group?”

  “’Cause these days girl you look like you need something more.”

  I grumble something, something like wishing people would mind their own damn business.

  I don’t get use to Shamika’s style. I call Sola to complain. “I can’t believe she call me a neophyte. Every time we together she labelling me something. The woman irritating.” I spit out the word neophyte like it something nasty to eat. I hear the tap tap tap of Sola’s fingers clipping across her laptop. Words stick between the phone line. The silence make me slam down the phone and reach for it again fast. Too late ’cause the dial tone reach my ears before the phone does. I dial Sola’s number holding my breath until she pick up.

  “Do you even know what neophyte means Judith?” She say with the air of a Buddhist in training. “Judith what happened to you? Ever since Drey arrive you’re acting like the whole world is one big splinter you’re looking to yank out.” Stillness before Sola try again, “So where’s Drey? Can’t he help you figure out what neophyte means? Judith?”

  “Yes he here. But he not interested. Don’t worry about it. I’m going to look up the word. Talk later.”

  Drey spend most he time on Big Island in front of the TV or reading. ‘You think he interested in meeting anyone like RasI, Iris or any of the youth? You think he interested in exploring the city; going to art galleries, cafes, parks or museums? No. No interest. I want him to come to the far
mer’s market and he say, “Plenty markets on Small Island.” And Sola, she consume by exams, studying. Anytime I phone or text I feel she hold she breath hoping it’s not me.

  Drey come in, say he going for a walk, say he thinking of leaving early and spending his last days with Arlene. He ask if I can take time off and come with him.

  “Why would I want to do that?”

  “Damn Judith she’s my sister. Why wouldn’t you?”

  “Maybe ’cause she don’t like me Drey. Maybe ’cause she think I not good enough for you. My skin too light for you.”

  “What? You serious?”

  “Drey. She rather see you with a black woman not a fair-skin woman like me.”

  “That she problem not yours. Why you making it so? Damn Judith people dissing people all the time, people judging people all the time ’cause a skin colour. Arlene’s been through it her whole fucking life. We all been through it. We, we black-skin people. You go through it occasionally and you want to make a war of it!”

  I sit up. Arms wrap around my legs, tears spilling.

  “You crying Judith? You crying over that? Why you crying? Stop crying nah.”

  He walk out with wind slamming door. Pillow squeeze tight to my chest. Fisted words, “fuck you” punching up inside. I sit and cry till I can’t stand myself any more. My left foot cramping. I get up, pull off my clothes and throw them in the corner. I turn the faucet till it reach the end of hot and slide down the bathroom wall across from the tub, waiting for it to fill. The bathroom fill with steam. Light start to change as sun pass over city. Colours circling. Yellow-lime walls, grass-green counter, purple-framed mirror.

  Memories of the day before, same bathroom, same steam, same blurred colours. I ask Drey to make love to me, ask him by sitting up on the counter, lifting shirt over head, unclasping bra, eyes watching while he wipe he skin with a torn towel. Drey in between my legs. Kissing. Humming. My mind close but far. We lose our balance and I slip off the bathroom counter.

  “Turn around,” he whisper, staring into my eyes through the mirror. Bodies join. Tangled hands. Honey and molasses. Corn-yellow petals of a flower watching in the mirror.

  Sunflower painting fall as I reach to close the tap. I kick it aside and the memory get slam too. Heat pierce my foot as I place into the tub. I jerk it out. Tears again. Fucking tears. Stop fucking crying I tell myself. I throw my foot back into the water and hear myself whimper before I hurl the rest of my body into the tub. White knuckle edge. Teeth grinding. Breath holding. Jaw locked.

  Sola find me. I wake but can’t move like water stuck to skin. I hear click of door and want desperately to get up, close, lock the bathroom so she can’t find me. Sola’s voice calling, “Judith.” She see me from the front door. “What the ass Judith?” She don’t know what to do. She start cry. “What happened? What happened?” she shouting but I not responding. Like my tongue stick too. “What can I do? What can I do?” Over and over she say. And then I hear she pick up the phone and say loud Aunt Rachel’s address. She yell for me to get up and she try and help from behind. She turn on the shower and hold me under cold water. She start cry again. Skin bubbling, some busting. Everything stuck and cutting.

  Ambulance sirens. Sola pull a sheet off the bed to cover me. Drey come soon after. Paramedics put cold lotion feels like aloes. They put gauze on some and leave other parts exposed.

  Sola give them my sky-blue housecoat. They drape another light blanket around me and help me on the stretcher. I am lifted into the back of the ambulance.

  What happen Judith?” I hear Drey.

  I say I’m fine. I’m sorry. I don’t want Drey and Sola come to the hospital. They come anyway.

  At the hospital I tell Drey and Sola the nurse say they’ll keep me over night. I don’t tell Drey and Sola the burns are second degree burns verging on third.

  Drey ask the nurse about the knock on my head and if that serious too.

  The nurse watch me. “Did you fall Judith?” The nurse look at my file then back at me.

  “She knock she head on the back of the tub,” Drey say.

  “Judith I thought you said you fainted from the heat. Did you hit your head?”

  “Drey,” Sola knocking Drey’s elbow, “she didn’t fall.”

  I peer out onto the parking lot, cars like tiny toys waiting to be picked up and pocketed. “I’m sorry Drey. I didn’t know the water so hot.”

  “You didn’t know? You didn’t know you stepping into water so hot it burn your skin and then you faint.”

  I face the window again but this time I look straight into the clouds.

  Next day Drey question me again trying to make sense of what Sola tell him. “So you feel hot water going to make you harder? Sola say you feel guilty. Guilty for what?”

  I just get home from hospital. I’m sitting on the couch and can’t answer him. He suck his teeth. I think about Sola and the conversation she have with Drey earlier that morning. I imagine she say I purposefully put myself into hot water. And it’s true I did throw myself in but I never want to hurt myself not in the way the water bust up my skin. I just want to feel a little pain, toughen my mind, my head, my self, my whole self. Just like I pinch myself sometimes I never mean to bruise I just pinching to harden up, to stop being so fucking soft, spoilt. I tired of myself. I tired of crying, feeling sorry for myself. I hope Sola don’t think I deliberately burn myself, ’cause I don’t. I just want to be able to take the heat. I think about Sola’s gaze yesterday, something between concern and pity.

  Then I back in the room with Drey and he saying, “Damn Judith, what are you thinking? I don’t get it. I really don’t get it.” He say he going for a walk. The second walk he take since he come. I want to say something but I don’t. I let him walk out the door.

  I think of Sola yesterday, how she pull up a chair by the bed. She eyes following mine to the blue above clouds. She pull a Kleenex from next to the bed and hand it to me. I feel she hand rest on my shoulder. My hand reach on top hers, trembling. We stay like this for awhile.

  SOLA

  I ARRIVE TO FIND Judith whimpering still in the water. Parts of her skin raw and bubbling. She isn’t talking just looking straight ahead.

  “What the fuck Judith. What happened?”

  She begins to cry. I call 911. Then I yell at her because I need to get her out of the hot water and under cold water. I manage somewhat and then I hear the sirens. They are downstairs already. The paramedics do the rest. They cover her up with gauze and clear cream that looks like aloes.

  They tell me afterwards Judith accidentally put herself in the hot water, said she didn’t know it was as hot as it was, then she fainted.

  “How you mean?” I say.

  “That’s what she said. She’s fine. The burns are not as bad as we initially thought. We need a light piece of clothing we can drape over her.”

  I go to get them Judith’s light-blue housecoat.

  The paramedic follows me into Judith’s room. “Has she ever tried to hurt herself before?” she asks.

  “Judith? No.”

  I can’t imagine Judith deliberately hurting herself. She comes out five minutes later, head bowed, dreads piled on top.

  “I don’t get it, Judith. Did someone do this to you?”

  “No.” She looks up at my face and then bows her head again. She doesn’t even have the energy to comment on my head, my short-trimmed head.

  I’ve been anticipating her reaction ever since I told the barber to cut my hair off to give me the shortest trim he could. “Clean clean clean like the Irish Rasta woman,” I said. He didn’t know what or who I was talking about until I showed him the picture I found of her on the internet. I said I wanted a little more left on than she has.

  Judith says nothing. Her eyes are dull, embarrassed.

  I want to ask her again what happened, if someone did this to her. I
can’t understand how she managed to place herself in water so hot it burned her skin.

  As soon as I see Drey I know he didn’t have a hand in burning Judith. I witness his face turn from casual to stricken. Watch how he bends over and touches Judith like he is walking through rows of carrots, careful not to trample a single shoot. His voice is as tender as a nurse who loves her job. “Judith what happened?” I know at that moment he is a good man. A man who cares deeply.

  “Judith,” Drey asks softly, “what happened? Judith?”

  Judith responds, “I’m okay.”

  “She stood on the side of the tub to shut the window, slipped and landed in the water. It was too hot for her skin and she burnt herself.”

  Drey looks at me and then back at Judith. “In truth Judith?”

  Judith looks at me then the paramedic then back at Drey and nods yes.

  “The water so hot it burn you? What the hell. Didn’t I tell you the other day your bathwater too hot? And you just sat there and laughed.”

  The paramedic intervened, “She’s fine. But we’d still like to take her to the hospital. We only have room for one person. If one of you wants to come.”

  “I can go for myself,” Judith says. The look of embarrassment on Judith, mouth twisted in a grin of a thousand apologies. A blush creeping over her cheeks adding another layer of redness. She holds her arms inches away from her chest folded as if she is trying to squeeze herself smaller.

  “You’re joking,” Drey says. “We’re coming.”

  “I will meet you there,” says Judith.

  She says this with such force that Drey and I both get it. She’d rather neither of us ride in the back of the ambulance with her.

  “We’ll walk,” I say. The hospital is only about a forty-minute walk.

  The ambulance drives away leaving Drey and me to introduce ourselves. “Judith’s friend. Sola,” I say.