Coffee, Cream and Curry

by Judy Powell

  Even Mr. Henley had been supportive of Beth. He sometimes entertained the girls on Sunday afternoons while she studied and had even helped her a few times with her sums. Beth could not believe her good fortune. She had a new respect for the Henleys. Once, the cook had questioned her about the man’s interest in her work but she just shrugged it off. Mildred could hardly read and could never be expected to understand the discussions of educated folk, she thought.

  Beth settled into her new life in Kingston, grateful for the opportunity to fulfill her dream. She knew that if she were still back home there would be little chance that she would be preparing for the Senior Cambridge Examinations. She still missed her family immensely, especially her father, but she resigned herself to her new life and dedicated all her free time to her studies. She was determined to show everyone in Bonny Gate, but especially her mother, that she could make it without them.

  All went well for Beth until one night she woke up, shivering hard. She called out to Mildred who was the closest substitute for the mother she wished was with her right now. When the woman put her hand on her forehead it was burning with fever. Mildred quickly washed Beth’s body with Bay Rum, wrapped her tightly in a sheet then left her in bed to sweat out the fever. By morning it was gone but she still felt weak and her head throbbed.

  “Is the water you were playing in last night, you know.” This was Mildred’s explanation for Beth’s sudden illness. “My mother always used to tell me that when rain dewing you must come in or else you goin’ catch draught, and is the said thing happen to you.”

  It was Sunday morning and Mildred was rushing around, getting ready for church. As usual, she was going to be singing on the choir. She usually headed out long before the Henley family although they worshipped at the same church. She was never late. She gave Beth one last check, left a glass of orange juice on the nightstand, and departed.

  Later, as Beth lay in the narrow bed, the silence of the empty house filled her with loneliness. She wondered at her low spirits – she was usually a very positive person, even when she had problems. Maybe it was because she had never been all alone in this house before; the laughter and screams of the girls had been replaced with uncharacteristic quiet. She felt more alone than she had felt, even when she had been put on the bus to Kingston two months ago. She sighed and closed her eyes, willing herself back to sleep.

  She had fallen into a light doze when she woke to a heaviness on her forehead. Someone had rested a soft, warm hand there.

  “Miss Mildred,” she groaned, “how you come back so quick?”

  She slowly opened her eyes to a round, white face with a bushy moustache. Beth’s eyes flew open wide. “Mr. Henley? What you doing here, sah? Me think you gone to church.”

  With a smile Mr. Henley removed his hand and stood looking at her. “Yes, I went, but I had to come back to deal with some urgent business. And since Mildred said you were sick I just stopped by to check on you.”

  “Urgent business, sah? Here at the house?” Beth struggled to sit up, concerned. “Something wrong? What happen?”

  “Relax, my dear, don’t get so worked up.” Mr. Henley gently pushed her back unto the pillow. “It was just, aah, some minor thing I had to handle. Nothing for you to worry about.” He smiled warmly then sat down on the stool by her bed. “The question is, how are you feeling?”

  “I alright, sah. I just need some rest.” She sighed, relieved. “By the time Miss Mildred come from church I will be able to help her with the dinner.”

  “Silly girl. Do you think I am worried about dinner? I’m concerned about you.”

  Beth peered up at him, puzzled, but simply said, “Thank you, sah.”

  Mr. Henley pulled the stool closer to the bed and leaned towards her. “So, you’re feeling alright now?” Then his voice became softer as he breathed, “I bet a little massage would work wonders for you.”

  With that he stretched out a hand to her left shoulder and began to squeeze gently. Beth lay still for a moment, confused. Then, suddenly coming to her senses, she shrugged away and slid lower into the sheets. “Th...thanks, Mr. Henley, but I alright now. You better go back to church before service finish.”

  Seeing her nervousness, he sat back, still smiling. “Don’t be shy, girl. How old are you now?”

  “Fourteen, sah.”

  “Fourteen, huh? Big girl, now.” He winked at her and then, without warning, leaned forward again to press soft lips on her forehead.

  Beth jumped, and clutched the thin sheet to her chest. “Mr. Henley! What you doing?”

  “Come on, girl,” he whispered into her ear, “I know you little black girls know about these things from early. Let me taste a little of that chocolate sweetness.”

  Beth sucked her breath in sharply, her heart beating hard. She shifted away, trying to slide out the other side of the bed, but he was too quick for her. He grabbed her, halting her flight, and pulled her tightly against his chest.

  “Mr. Henley,” she panted, “don’t do this, sah. I can’t do them kind of things.”

  “Beth, I can make things better for you.” He clutched her struggling body close to his own, his grip firm. “Do you want money? You may have it. Just make me feel good, Beth.”

  “Let me go!” Beth screamed and fought desperately to free herself. In the struggle her elbow caught him on the cheek bone. His head flew back and he fell off the stool, hitting the floor hard.

  “You bitch,” he shouted, clutching his jaw, “you think you are too good for me?” His voice trembled as he spoke. “Prettier girls than you have worked in this house before and they had no problem giving me what I want.” He struggled to his feet and stood glaring at Beth as she cowered in the bed. “You’d better be nice to me. I can make your life miserable in this house.” He kicked the stool hard then stomped out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

  Beth stayed in her room for the rest of the day, feigning illness even to Mildred. The cook seemed perturbed that her home remedies had not worked but Beth assured her that all she needed was a little more rest. Mildred seemed relieved and told her to get all the rest she needed. She served dinner to the family then brought Beth a bowl of chicken soup.

  “When you cook this soup, Miss Mildred?” Beth looked up at her in surprise when she walked in with the tray. “I didn’t want to give you more work.”

  “Don’t worry about it, me dear. Soup don’t take any time to cook. You just eat up and get better fast. Das all I want.” Mildred smiled as she rested the tray on her lap.

  Beth smiled back in thanks and took a sip of the steaming soup. As the first hot spoonful slid down her throat her stomach growled. She had not realized until now how hungry she was. She felt her head begin to clear as the food revived her. She looked up at the plump woman who looked down at her. “Miss Mildred…’’ she started to say, then hesitated.

  “Yes, me dear?”

  “Miss Henley…she vex with me for not serving dinner?”

  “Vex? Of course she not vex. She know you sick, child. Why she would be vex?”

  Beth did not answer, hiding her nervousness by taking a few more sips of the soup as Mildred watched. Finally, she spoke again, “And what about Mr. Henley? Him not vex?”

  “Lawd, pickney, how you worry so much?” Mildred shook her head in exasperation and put her hands on her hips. “Don’t let me hear any more worrisome questions out of you. Nobody is vex with you. You are a human being, and you can get sick, just like anybody else. The only somebody vex right now is Mr. Henley, and is not with you. Him probably vex with himself. Him say him bump into the vestry door at church. Him jaw red, you see? But that soon clear up. Is not nothing to worry about. Is jus’ that the bruise show up bright on him because him so white.”

  Mildred straightened the sheets around Beth then turned towards the door. “Now eat up, then catch another nap,” she said, and slipped out the door.

  Next day Beth felt so guilty about leaving all the work on Miss Mildred that she dec
ided not to pretend illness any longer. She would just try to avoid being in the Mr. Henley’s presence and pretend that nothing had happened. She prayed he would not tell his wife what had happened. She knew that if he did, she would be the one placed in the wrong. Somehow, though, she felt he would make no mention of the incident. How would he explain his presence at the house when he should have been at church? She took comfort in that thought. She spent the entire day in Mildred’s presence and ran back to her room as soon as she got the chance.

  Beth did not see Mr. Henley all that morning. She spent the day with Mildred and the girls, boiling coconut drops and baking sweet potato pudding in a coal stove out in the backyard. The girls were excited at being allowed to do ‘big people’ things, and so were on their best behaviour all day. Because they were so good the cook selected four of the biggest coconut drops from the pile and they all sat under the Otaheiti apple tree out back and munched the sweet cakes. In the relaxed atmosphere Beth began to feel like her normal self again.

  Mr. Henley returned that evening and the tension coiled tightly in her stomach. At six o’clock sharp Mildred rested the heavy tray into her arms and sent her to the dining room to serve dinner. She had to approach Mr. Henley in order to set the tray at the head of the table. Her hands trembled so badly that the china bowls clattered. She put the tray down but moved back too quickly and the bowl of gravy spilled over into the silver tray.

  “What is wrong with you, girl? You are so clumsy. Take the tray away and clean up that mess.” Mrs. Henley’s face was flushed with anger. Beth picked up the tray again and, without looking back, hurried from the room with Mrs. Henley’s voice ringing in her ears. “These young girls have so much foolishness in their heads they can’t even do their work.”

  Tearfully, Beth took the tray back to the kitchen where Mildred took it from her, a look of concern on her face. “You feeling alright, honey? You not been yourself since Sunday.” Beth could only shake her head as Mildred continued, “You must be still suffering from the effects of the fever. Go to your room and lie down. I will serve the dinner.”

  Beth needed no further encouragement. With a quick thank you she headed for her room. As she lay on the bed staring up at the ceiling she remembered her fear as she struggled in the strong grasp of the heavy-set man. She was no fool. She had heard about men like him. She shuddered at the memory of his lips on her. What could she do? Who would believe her? It would be her word against those of a well-respected man. She was so afraid. Mrs. Henley would never believe her and even if she told Mildred, what good would that do? No matter how nice and motherly the older woman was, she was still just an employee. She had no power over Mr. Henley. In fact, Beth suspected that if Mildred were to get involved Mr. Henley would have no qualms in firing her. She could never do that to her friend.

  She threw her arm over her eyes as another thought came to her. What if she gave in? Would things really be better for her? Mr. Henley had promised her money, after all, and it was not as if her family cared. As far as she was concerned they had abandoned her and this was her opportunity to get a lot of money and go back to Bonny Gate in fancy clothes, maybe even in a hired car, and show them how much better she had done than they would ever have imagined. Hadn’t Grandma Iris told her she was cut out for bigger and better things? But then, she thought, would Grandma really be proud of her for making it in that way?

  She groaned aloud and rolled over unto her side. As she repositioned her head on the pillow her eyes fell on the lone goldfish in the small bowl on top of the chest of drawers. The fish had been a gift from Mrs. James and he was her second best friend, next to Mildred. She thought of how proud she had been when the elderly woman had praised her for outstanding performance and presented her with her new pet. Mrs. James had expressed surprise at how quickly she had caught up with the rest of the class and Beth had felt like she would burst with pride when she had been singled out to lead the reading group. She got up from the bed and went over to the fish bowl, a tight smile curling her lips as she sprinkled cracker crumbs into the water.

  For the next few weeks the time passed uneventfully for Beth. She made it her duty to stay out of Mr. Henley’s way and threw herself into her school work. Once or twice she caught Mrs. Henley staring hard at her but then the moment passed and she wondered if it was all in her mind.

  Soon, the Easter holidays were upon them. Mrs. Henley suddenly announced that she was taking the girls and going to Mandeville to visit her sister for the holidays. After they left, the house was quiet with only Mildred, Beth and Mr. Henley. He had not made any further advances and Beth began to feel less threatened. She hoped he had put the incident behind him. The days without Mrs. Henley and the girls were like a holiday for Beth. At last she could lie in bed late, reading or just enjoying the sound of the birds outside her window. She could actually take a nap in the afternoon if she wanted to. There were no children to run after, to dress, to entertain or to nurse. She was enjoying this.

  However, things took a sudden turn when Mildred was suddenly called home to Portland. Her father had had a stroke. Beth watched in dismay as Mildred walked down the narrow walkway to the gate then turned to wave goodbye. She wondered if she had made a mistake by not taking the cook into her confidence and asking for help. She had wanted to, but she had seen the distress on Mildred’s face when she got the news about her father and had known then that she would have to bear her own burden, at least for a while longer. She could only take comfort in the fact that Mr. Henley had avoided her since the incident. She planned to stay in her room and not come out unless absolutely necessary. As Mildred walked away, Beth turned and went straight to her room. She took out her math text and willed herself to concentrate.

  “Beth, what are you making for dinner?”

  Beth hissed through her teeth as the sound of the man’s voice came through her door. She had been in the bedroom for almost two hours but it was now after five o’clock and she knew that she could not stay inside forever. Luckily, lots of food was left over from the meal from the day before and all she would need to do was reheat the meat and rice. She would then prepare the salad fresh.

  She opened the door slowly and peeked out. Mr. Henley was nowhere in sight. She exited the room and walked softly to the kitchen, feeling like a thief in the house. She went about her task hurriedly, hoping not to have to see the man before she got the chance to scurry back to her room. She was almost done when the door to the kitchen opened and he walked in.

  “Why have you been avoiding me?”

  He leaned against the counter by the door and stared at her. Beth made no reply. Her hands moved quickly as she cut the tomatoes into thin slices.

  “Don’t you hear me talking to you?” There was annoyance in his voice. He straightened and glared at her. “You don’t have to act so high and mighty, you know. You’re just a little black girl like the rest of them. There’s no need for airs.”

  Beth glanced quickly at him, then ducked her head and focused again on the bowl of vegetables in front of her – fresh, green lettuce, blood-red tomatoes, cool white cucumbers. She snipped and sliced with intensity, all the while willing him to go away.

  The hawk stood there, silent, watching her. A snake coiled in her stomach.

  Then his mood changed. A smile crept across his lips and he spoke gently. “I know what the problem is. You’re nervous. Don’t worry about it, Beth. Nobody has to know. Let’s just have our own little fun. You make me feel good and I make you feel good. You know I have money, and that’s all you need, isn’t it?” The voice was sickly sweet syrup - taunting, repulsing. “You could get anything you want. I’d make sure of it. Just share some pleasure with me and we’ll both be happy. So, what about it?”

  As he spoke he moved closer…and closer still. The snake coiled tight, tight in her belly, twisting her insides. The man lifted his hand to touch her and she spun around, teeth bared, the knife pointing straight at his chest.

  “If you touch me I sink this kn
ife right in you belly.” She spoke through clenched teeth, fighting to keep the snake inside. “I prepare to go to prison before I let you put your nasty hands on me.”

  Mr. Henley stopped in his tracks, eyes wide. But Beth did not stop. She could not. All the fear and anger that had been festering inside her boiled over.

  “Yes! Me is a little black girl - no money, no nothing. But me is a girl you not goin’ to get today! White man rape my great grandmother but it not goin’ happen to me. In case you never hear, slavery done!”

  The man stared wildly at her and backed away quickly. “I… I’m sorry, Beth. I didn’t mean anything by this. P...please…”

  Beth raised the knife high above her head and the man shrank away, wild terror in his eyes. He watched her raised hand in fascination, the hot thrill of the hunt gone, leaving nothing but cold fear. The hawk disintegrated before her eyes. He was nothing…nothing but a pile of fluff.

  With a look of disgust Beth threw the knife into the sink. She turned her back on the cowering man and strode towards the living room. At the front door she stopped then turned.

  “I not staying here with you, you sick dog,” she shouted, her voice dripping with contempt for him. “This is one black girl you not goin’ to get pregnant in this house. I leaving here for good!”

  With that she flung the front door open and stared straight into the shocked face of Mrs. Henley. She was at the doorway, suitcase in hand, her daughters standing wide-eyed behind her.

  Without a word Beth marched past them and never looked back.