Crickets' Serenade

by Blythe, Carolita

  “No. But it can be exciting. It beats sitting around the clinic in Stepney reading paperback books.” I turned my body so I could look directly at him. “Actually, I have been thinking about something that involves politics and business, and it’s something that maybe you could help with.…”

  “I’m intrigued, ” he said as he faced me.

  “All right. Remember when you came to Stepney and we talked about the clinic and how we hardly ever had any supplies? I asked if you would do something about it if you ever got elected.”

  “Let me just say that I haven’t forgotten. I’ve just been so focused on other things, on trying to get our economy back on track.”

  “I know. That’s why I was thinking I could take over that part for you. The clinic part. I’m sure Stepney isn’t the only place on the island with a clinic that looks like hurricane just passed through it. If we could just build a few more clinics and get doctors, it would make such a difference. Clinics—not big time hospitals. With a little improvement, and supplies and real doctors, maybe people in small towns would put more faith in them.”

  “I see you’ve given this a lot of thought.”

  “I’ve been thinking about it since I was back in Stepney. I started working at the clinic when I was eighteen, not because I wanted to be a nurse or any such thing, but because it gave me something to do. I never missed a day there until about four years later, when Clarice came to have her baby. But with all the complications, and no doctor being there that day, well … It was only me, and what did I know? If all the clinics in the small towns are as bad as the one in Stepney, well, that’s not good. Maybe if you could build some new ones with real bandages and medication and stuff. Maybe if there was a doctor there all the time, instead of just four hours every Tuesday. Maybe if we had that, my aunt would have felt comfortable enough to go in there before her life was nearly over.”

  Lewis shook his head slowly. “I’ll see what we might be able to do. Understand, however, that I can’t make any promises.”

  “I understand. But if you could find a few stray dollars anywhere.”

  “It really means a lot to you.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I’ll figure out a way to make it happen,” he said. Lewis looked at me with all of this warmth. I felt his hand gently stroke the back of my neck, and for a second, I thought about what Michele had said: “You is a woman, right? An’ Lewis is definitely a mon. Forget ’bout all de oddah t’ings. You is a ooman, him is a mon. Dat’s all you need.” It was at that exact moment that I fell in love with Lewis Montrose. It was at that moment that I thought, why not me? What does Agnes Gooding have that I don’t? There is no law that says things must remain platonic between us. And suddenly, even with the sun setting, everything seemed so bright.

  -19-

  My brightness dimmed pretty quickly. Two days after our trip along the Rio Grande, to be exact. Mrs. Moore told me that Lewis would be home in time for dinner and would be bringing a guest. I suppose I just assumed it would be one of his cabinet ministers, so I didn’t give it much thought. The meal was scheduled for seven-thirty. I got to the dining room about ten minutes early, but Lewis and his guest were already there. I had made it almost as far as the door when I heard a woman’s voice—Agnes Gooding’s voice. I peeked in, and sure enough, there was Agnes chatting away and laughing. I moved away before she could see me and just stood there in the hallway trying to get my thoughts together. I didn’t even see Mrs. Moore coming toward me.

  “Everything all right, ma’am?” she asked. She was carrying a tray filled with empty teacups and saucers.

  I nodded and walked farther away from the dining room. “I didn’t think Lewis and his … guest would be there already,” I said.

  “Been there fifteen minutes now,” Mrs. Moore said.

  “I didn’t even hear him drive up.”

  “Would you like me to announce you, ma’am?”

  “No. I’ll be okay,” I said. I waited until she walked down the hall and into the kitchen, then I went back upstairs to my room.

  I don’t know why I felt I had to change my clothes. Maybe it’s because I was wearing a pantsuit that made me look as though I should have been teaching class, while Agnes appeared so elegant. Whatever the reason, I changed into a flower print white dress, then I sat in front of the vanity staring at my reflection. I applied a plum colored lipstick, but quickly removed it with a sheet of facial tissue. I removed the eye shadow too. Agnes didn’t wear lipstick. She didn’t need to, with those cherry colored lips of hers. She didn’t wear eye shadow either. Hers was a more natural beauty. She had no use for the blush that sat opened before me. Her cheeks were naturally rouge. I took a few deep breaths. I couldn’t understand why Lewis would have Agnes over for dinner. Not after the connection I felt between us during our trip along the Rio Grande. I couldn’t understand why this, my first time sitting for dinner with him over a week, I had to share him with her.

  I applied a more neutral colored lip-gloss, fluffed my hair, which resembled an afro that had been straightened and then re-curled, then walked out of the room. I was aware of every step I took along the hallway. I wondered if the dress I had changed into was the most flattering. I wondered if my hair was stylish enough. I walked into the dining room in time to see Agnes tapping her wineglass against Lewis’.

  “Here she is,” Agnes said. “Thought we might have lost you.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to take so long.”

  “It’s our prerogative as women. Don’t worry about it, dear.”

  I tried not to stare, but my eyes kept finding their way to her face. Her skin glowed. Her thick black hair cascaded down her back. She seemed to have grown more beautiful since the last time I had seen her. Agnes caught me staring, ran her hand through her hair and flashed a big smile.

  “I have to cut this thing. It’s so difficult to manage when it gets so long.” She ended her sentence with a flip of her long hair. She smiled at Lewis, then continued on.

  “We spoke so briefly the last time. It’s good to be able to sit and spend some time with you. One of these days, you’ll have to give me your secret on how you managed to tame Mr. Montrose—something I was never given the chance at trying my hand at.”

  I was wondering where her big time, New York based surgeon husband was.

  “Are you back in Kingston on business?” I asked “Or vacation with your husband?”

  “Let’s just say business. I’d been meeting with a broker about a house I just bought in Hope Pastures.”

  “You and your husband?”

  “Just me. It’s official. My husband is no more. So very soon, Lewis and I will be as thick as thieves again.”

  I must admit, that didn’t sit too well with me. Agnes grasped Lewis’ hand, and they laughed heartily—too heartily to be in response to what Agnes had just said. They must have been sharing an inside joke.

  “Sorry to hear about your husband,” I said. And I truly meant it.

  “Believe me, there’s no need to be.” She paused as Mrs. Moore brought in the food. After the housekeeper was out of the room, Agnes continued. “Yes, as I was saying, there’s no need to be sorry about what happened with my husband. It’s not like he’s dead or anything like that.” Agnes was laughing so hard, she could hardly get the words out.

  “So, how long have you had the house?”

  “Well, I was out here in January. I fell in love with it then. When I returned three weeks ago, it was still on the market, so … besides, I’m tired of living in a hotel.”

  There was mostly small talk during dinner, so I made it through all right. It was after dinner that I wanted to drown myself.

  “You know, it’s so funny how things turn out,” Agnes said as Lewis poured her more wine. “I remember when this man hated me.”

  “What are you talking about? I never hated you. If anyone hated anyone, it was you who hated me.”

  “How can you even form your lips to say that, Lewis Mont
rose?”

  “You used to slap me right about here,” Lewis said as he pointed to the back of his neck.

  “And you used to tug at my curls.” Agnes giggled as she twirled a wisp of her hair around her finger.

  “It was only in retaliation.”

  “Retaliation for what?”

  “For whatever devilish things you were up to.”

  “Me? Never.” Agnes gasped dramatically and placed her left hand flush against her chest.

  “I still remember when you hit me in the head with that stone. I was dizzy for two days,” Lewis said with a reminiscent smile.

  “Ah yes. And you came over and pushed me onto the wet grass. My mother was never able to get those grass stains out. And it was my favorite dress.”

  “If you hadn’t hit me …”

  “Well, my darling, I have some big news for you. It wasn’t me who hit you. Your angel of a baby sister was still upset over a certain doll you had broken, even though an entire week had passed. Now I’m not saying I didn’t perhaps stir up a few emotions in her, but as far as who picked up that stone and threw it, I was as innocent as a lamb.”

  “Well, then I guess I owe you a thirty-year apology.”

  “Then I owe you a thirty-year acceptance of that apology.”

  They both started laughing again. I wanted to throw up.

  “But I forgave you a long time ago. Even though you thought I was this horrible little person, you still defended my honor. I’ve only seen you in the brightest light since then.” Agnes directed her next question to me, but she never looked away from Lewis.

  “Souci, did you know this man defended my honor?”

  “Oh no, Agnes. Not that story again,” Lewis said as he lowered his head.

  “I was about eleven, and I attended a school for girls. We had to wait outside in the yard after school to get picked up. The school for boys was just down the street and they would walk by and yell and scream various unpleasant things, as young boys are apt to do. This one time in particular, a few boys got really fresh and out of order. Lewis, who also happened to be walking by, heard them and, well, let’s just say that was the only time I ever had anyone fight for my honor.”

  “Except I couldn’t fight a lick, Souci. Got a nice black eye to show for it, and this scar,” he said while pointing to the area just above his left eye.

  “And his mother, she tried to go out there and find those boys.”

  “I was almost fourteen. Could you imagine what that would have done for my reputation.”

  “Couldn’t have harmed it any. All those little girls simply adored you.” She smiled and batted her long, black eyelashes at Lewis. “He actually took on seven boys without hesitation.”

  “Did she go?” I asked.

  “What dear?” Agnes seemed a bit irritated at being taken out of the moment.

  “Did Lewis’ mother go to the school?”

  Lewis shook his head. “My father told my mother to remember she was a lady. He told me that from the looks of things, I should save my fighting for instances that didn’t involve physical contact.”

  “No matter what Mr. Montrose said, you were my hero from then on.” Agnes suddenly gasped. “What time is it?”

  Lewis looked at his watch. “A little before nine.”

  “I was supposed to call my agent a little earlier. I have a book on tropical fauna in the works. She’s been shopping my proposal around to several publishers, so cross your fingers. Hope you don’t mind. Call’s long distance.”

  “I think we might be able to absorb the cost.”

  After Agnes left the room, Lewis turned toward me.

  “She’s something else, isn’t she?” he asked. I plastered the biggest, fakest smile I could come up with across my face and drank the wine down as if it were water.

  When Agnes returned, she was bubbling over with excitement. She announced she had gotten her book contract, then fluttered over and kissed Lewis on the cheek.

  I tried to outlast Agnes as we moved from the dining room to the living room for coffee. But she kept coming up with one boring story after another about “the old days,” with Lewis. And as they laughed and laughed about things I just didn’t find funny, I finally gave in and said my goodnights.

  As I approached my bedroom, I could still hear Agnes’ laughter echoing through the halls, so I hurried inside and shut the door. I opened my window, despite the mosquitoes that were fighting to come in, and tried to listen to the songs of the crickets, but Agnes’ laughter drowned them out. After a few minutes, I saw Lewis and Agnes strolling across the back lawn. Agnes had taken off her shoes and left them on the grass near the edge of the verandah. Her pink painted toenails showed each time she lifted her feet to take a step. They pointed up toward the sky when she sat down next to Lewis underneath the almond tree.

  Agnes and Lewis talked for what seemed like forever, and every now and then, Lewis would let out a great big laugh. He seemed so happy with her. And now, her husband was no more. I shook my head when I thought about that moment of insanity I had in Port Antonio, when I actually believed that someone like Lewis Montrose could be interested in someone like me. I wasn’t beautiful. I didn’t write books. And I had no memories from a childhood spent with Lewis.

  I got ready for bed, though I really wasn’t very sleepy. I suppose there were too many thoughts running through my mind. I situated myself in a side chair and reached for a book. But I kept reading the same line over and over, so eventually, I just put the book down. I walked back over to the window expecting to see Lewis and Agnes still curled up on the bench beneath the almond tree—despite the hour and a half that had passed since I had left them. Lewis was still there, but to my surprise, Agnes was nowhere in sight. Instead, Lewis stood on the back lawn face to face with his ghost.

  I turned off the light in my room and craned my neck outside the window. Lewis handed Bumper Smalls an envelope. And as Bumper Smalls walked away, Lewis just stood there, looking off into the night—just as he had after Bumper had shown up on our wedding night. I don’t know how long he stood there in the backyard.

  When he finally came into the house, he made a phone call. I’m not sure to whom. As I stood atop the stairway, the only words I heard clearly were, “And I know I’ll never be able to step outside of my past.” I scooted back into my room before Lewis made it up the stairs.

  It must have been about three in the morning when I heard the familiar slam of a door. I really thought that after the election, all of Lewis’ anxieties would have floated away. But that was not the case. I was sensing that it wasn’t the election that had made him so distracted. There was something eating away a little of his soul each and every day—something there was not an easy solution to. Maybe Bumper Smalls held the key to that something.

  -20-

  “Paulette’s been getting her hair done at the salon for what … five years now. And do you know this is the first time I’ve ever been to her house,” Marcia whispered to me as we sat under the tamarind tree in Paulette’s yard. “If it wasn’t for you, Souci, I still wouldn’t have seen this castle.”

  “Paulette always seems so friendly with you.”

  “At the salon, sure. Who would want to be nasty to someone who was holding scissors up around their head? But Paulette and Marilyn and all them, they just think of me as hired help. To Paulette, only difference between me, my mother, my sister and somebody like the housekeeper is, we own our own business, and we can make them look good. You should have seen the way she looked at me when we got here. ‘Mavis and Marcia, how can I help you?’ she asked. I wanted to say, you can help me by showing me to the food and the pretty rum drinks I’m sure you rich people always kicking back. But I just told her it was you who invited me.”

  “Well, this garden party is in my honor … my birthday. They made the biggest fuss over it—and I told her I would be inviting a couple of people.”

  “Yeah, but she probably thought you were going to be inviting the Queen of Eng
land and the Princess of the world.”

  “Well I’m just glad you all came.”

  Marcia smiled, then looked in the direction of Paulette, who was sitting several feet away laughing with Ayleen Morgan. I was trying to locate Marilyn, who had wandered off. I needed to talk to her and Paulette alone—to get them away from the rest of the group. I wasn’t so much interested in the party as I was in finding out about Lewis’ ghost, Bumper Smalls. Maybe I would have let it alone if I hadn’t seen how Lewis reacted to him. I figured if anyone would know anything about Lewis and his relationship to Mr. Smalls, it would have been upper Kingston’s two public relations experts.

  One of Paulette’s maids came by with a tray of cocktail shrimp. Marcia put a couple on her plate and turned toward me.

  “Mi dear, I hear this place was incredible, but I never half imagine it would be like this. Did you see that chandelier in the dining room? And those bedrooms upstairs? Please. My entire house could fit into one of them.”

  “Paulette took you on a tour?” I asked.

  “Girl, please. Ayleen Morgan come in right after us—an’ all of Paulette’s attention turned to her, so I just decide to give myself my own tour.” She laughed to herself.

  “I just don’t get them never inviting you. You’re so funny, Marcia. I would invite you to all my parties.”

  “Well, you an’ Mrs. Benson are two completely different people. See, to be in this group, you have to be Mrs. Somebody so very important. Not only am I not somebody so very important, I’m also not a Mrs. An’ you notice ain’t a businesswoman or lady doctor or lady government minister here.”

  “How come?”

  “Those women wouldn’t want to sit around all day talking ’bout who sleeping with who and whose cook makes the best rum cake. Those women wouldn’t be satisfied talking ’bout their husbands’ jobs. They would probably want to talk about their own jobs.” She looked around at the group of women, and her eyes narrowed.

  “Who here’s as smart as those women. Only Debbie Dean’s got any real character. Only she has a career outside of her husband. An’ believe me, if her husband wasn’t so important, they wouldn’t invite her. The rest of them only got this far because of who they married to. Paulette and Marilyn feel more comfortable socializing with these women because these women just like them … no lives of their own.”