After the End

by Brenda Barrett

  Isaiah exhaled on a long built up whoosh.

  Greg had said on more than one occasion that he was holding out no hope that Maureen would wait for him, so he wasn't waiting on her. He had more than once indulged with the ladies that they had carried over from the mainland. He had actually reveled in it, not feeling an ounce of guilt that he was still married.

  Greg was probably wondering if Maureen had indeed waited for him or moved on as thoroughly as he had.

  Isaiah was wondering the same thing about Colleen. Somehow he was bracing himself for the worst. Colleen was young and pretty; she would probably not be around. The thought made him grit his teeth. Or maybe she would; he relaxed again. Colleen was the loyal type. He just had to remember that.

  "Maureen is probably at home now, waiting with the kids," Greg said, changing his tune again. "I am finally going to meet my daughter or son. The new baby that is not new anymore."

  "It's a while," Isaiah said, "maybe she is not around."

  Greg nodded. "I know. I know. You know how that reporter asked if we are going back into fishing and you told them you might?"

  "Yeah," Isaiah said.

  "I don't think I can do it again, man," Greg shrugged. "The government minister gave me a card for the Farm Work Program in Canada. I think I might sign up for that. I think you should too."

  Isaiah sighed. "I have had enough of farming. Fishing is lucrative; it's what I love."

  "And it's dangerous," Greg rejoined.

  "What we went through doesn't happen every day," Isaiah said. "Fishing makes a good living. Next time I will go out with a backup boat…like in pairs with another fisherman…so if something happens to one boat there is help from the other. That's all."

  "I don't know." Greg resumed looking through the window. "I don't know if I even want to live near the sea again."

  Scores of community people lined the road when the car turned into the housing scheme. People were waving and excited. When they alighted from the car they were almost bomb-rushed with exuberant neighbors and friends who wanted to say hello.

  Isaiah nodded and smiled and greeted all of them and when he reached the gate he saw his mother and his siblings standing there. Dan was almost unrecognizable. He was so tall and muscular looking, unlike the skinny little boy he left behind. His mother looked the same, though a little younger; it was as if she was aging backward—still big bodied and shapely. Her face was still round and unlined but her hair was in a bright red style. It must be the hairstyle that made her appear so youthful. She was crying big, gulping tears when she hugged him; none of his siblings wanted to let him go.

  "Where's Colleen?" he asked after a while, anxiously looking around.

  "I think she is in the States," Dan said, "New York. She doesn't live here anymore."

  Isaiah gritted his teeth in pain as if delivered a physical blow. He repeated Dan's last statement just to make sure. "She doesn't live here?"

  "No." Miss Lou pulled him through to the gate and locked it. Everybody was trying to avoid looking at him directly after the question.

  He was almost afraid to ask why.

  "Come on inside," Miss Lou said, her eyes shadowing with sorrow for him. "We are so happy to see you. I mean, praise the Lord. Only God could have done this. It is a miracle. Thank you, Jesus."

  Isaiah nodded impatiently. His gratitude to God was overshadowed by his impatience to know why Colleen was not around. "Tell me about Colleen." His head was throbbing like it was playing little staccato notes, as if there was a keyboard up there.

  Miss Lou put her arms around him. "Son, Colleen has married again."

  "No." Isaiah shook his head, trying to clear it. "No."

  "She was the only one who still actively mourned you after five years. I mean, everybody accepted that you were gone, but not Colleen," Miss Lou said, a pained sound to her voice, "and we all sort of pushed her to move on and she finally did…just three months ago she got married."

  Isaiah felt a trembling in his legs as he walked up the steps to the veranda. "Who is she married to?" He could barely force his voice to ask the question. He sat down on one of the veranda chairs. It was new, he observed in a raw sort of daze. He slowly registered that the house was freshly painted. And he waited while he made all of those observations to hear who his mother would say.

  Was it Olaf? He had had a crush on Colleen. He ran a bar and go-go club in the town. Was it Leroy? He was always sending Colleen small presents from his farm up in the hills.

  "Enrique Lopez," Miss Lou said.

  Isaiah hung his head. Rich. Powerful. The Lopezes were in a totally different class from the Reids. He could feel the tendrils of defeat wrapping around his throat, strangling him. He struggled to breathe after that. Tears gathered in his eyes. He blinked them away.

  "So how have you guys been?" he asked, his voice sounding like sandpaper, thin and rusty.

  Miss Lou looked at him sympathetically. "We are fine. I opened a cook shop down near the beach and I am gaining a reputation as the place to eat the best roast fish. That’s how we have been surviving."

  "And I passed all my exams," Dan said proudly. "I just heard yesterday. I am going to do pre-med at UWI."

  "You want to be a doctor, huh?" Isaiah nodded. "Congrats on passing the exams, man." He wanted to ask how they were going to afford college but his mother looked unconcerned.

  His sisters brought him up to speed with their lives and he tried to forget that his wife was married to somebody else. Then the thought hit him, when he was heading down the steps to their part of the house. She was his wife. He was alive. Surely it was not legal, whatever marriage she had with someone else. His heart leapt with joy. Maybe he could win her back.

  "Mama," he turned to his mother, who was still looking at him as if she couldn't quite believe he was there.

  "What happened to Maureen?"

  "She is married too. Lost the baby that she was pregnant with when she heard that Greg died. She lives in Kingston."

  "Wow," Isaiah sighed, "Greg will be devastated. He was looking forward to meeting that child."

  Miss Lou gave him one of her watery-eyed looks. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

  "No," Isaiah said opening the door. "I am just going to have a lie-down and think. It's been a hectic few days."

  Chapter Eleven

  "How do I book a flight?" Colleen asked Maureen a few minutes after her feverish mind had processed what Maureen had told her.

  "Why?" Maureen's voice was calmer now, quite unlike the panicked person she had spoken to earlier.

  "Because I need to go home and see Isaiah. How did he look, what did he say? I am still a little shell-shocked."

  "What will Enrique say about you coming back to see Isaiah?" Maureen asked suspiciously.

  "Oh come on, Maur. Enrique is not here. Tell me."

  "Oh," Maureen said abruptly. "It figures."

  "Come on, Maur." Colleen asked, a wheedling tone creeping into her voice. "Tell me, how did he look? I am perishing for some info."

  "He looks good. You know he was always cute. He looks manlier now, better than before. His hair is all shaved off and he has a neat mustache-goatee thing going on. Greg looks good too. Really good. I had completely forgotten that he had been so good-looking.”

  She took a deep breath. "Tucker contacted a lawyer to find out where we stand now that we know that husband number one is not really dead. According to the lawyer, I can't have two husbands at the same time, apparently that is considered bigamous.”

  She laughed nervously. "Colleen, I hate the term bigamy and I hate it associated with me."

  Colleen clutched the phone closer. "We are in the same boat; that would make me bigamous too."

  "Yup," Maureen said with a long heaving sigh. "Same boat. We are using fishing terms. How ironic."

  Then Maureen went into a deep silence.

  Colleen waited for her to speak again. Her hands were clammy on her cell phone and she wiped them off on her jeans. She g
ot up to pace.

  "So what are you going to do?" she asked Maureen in the silence. Maureen's voice was husky and she sniffed. "I cried when I saw that he came back." She sniffed again. "I had five minutes of total lockdown where I just wailed right here on the floor. I don't know why. Like a pipe valve released. I remember the night the marine police declared with certainty that Greg was dead. I don't know, I just lost it for a while. I am still tearing up like a ninny."

  "You are not a ninny," Colleen said. "Ironically, I did not cry. I am feeling happy. Really over the moon happy. I can't believe it. It's a miracle. An unexpected, really great miracle."

  "I knew you'd think that; you only recently finished grieving for Isaiah; you are just married to Enrique." Maureen sniffed "You asked what I am going to do. I am getting a divorce. I have to get a divorce from Greg and remarry Tucker.

  “My lawyer said the divorce can be accelerated because of the circumstances. So I am going to get divorced by the end of the week and remarry my current husband by next week. Isn't this quite a pickle?"

  Colleen listened, clutching the phone closer to her ear. "Oh, but isn't that too quick, Maureen?"

  "No!" Maureen yelped. "It’s too slow. I had my cry and my moment. I feel a tad guilty. You know, the first thing I thought of when I heard that Greg was alive? I wasn't like ‘oh my Gosh Greg is alive!’ I was like ‘oh no!’ I was not particularly happy to see him, Colleen. Tucker and I agree that this is the best way forward.

  "I love Tucker. I have a family with him. I have been married to him longer than I was married to Greg. I can't in good conscience return to Greg, a man who I don't even know now. I am ending this as swiftly and as painlessly as I can. My lawyer’s name is Janet Murphy, by the way, if you are interested."

  Colleen walked over to the window and stared out at the view. "Maur, I am not in the same situation as you, I don't have any children with Enrique or all of that to consider. Isaiah is back. I don't think I want to go rushing to divorce him now."

  "Mmm," Maureen made a whistling sound. "I was really nervous about you when I heard that Isaiah was alive. And I am feeling a wee bit sorry for Enrique."

  "Why? " Colleen's eyes connected with one of their wedding pictures by the beach and she closed her eyes. "You don't have to be."

  Maureen said morosely. "We all know what you'll do, Colleen. Even a blind man can see that Enrique loves you deeply…desperately, but you always had this long-abiding love for Isaiah."

  "I don't even know what I am going to do," Colleen whispered. "Stop assuming anything about this whole mess."

  "I told Greg Junior that his Dad is back," Maureen said, changing the subject. "He told me that Tucker is his Dad...Junior knows that he was adopted by Tucker but my son is not interested in having two fathers. Especially a strange one that is back from the dead.

  "Greg's coming back complicates my life, Colleen. I am now going to have to share my son with him. A son who doesn't know or remember him. Who knows what kind of man he is now? I have matured way past the girl I was when I met Greg. I have different value systems from then. I have changed and I don't think I want to share my son."

  Colleen relaxed her shoulders. She had been holding herself tensely. "Tell me how to book the ticket online. When I reach Jamaica, pick me up at the airport and we’ll both go down to Whitehouse and face our respective first husbands."

  "Okay," Maureen said. "I guess it has to be done. Tucker is not going to let me go there alone, though. He is a bit paranoid that I'll see Greg and want to stay married to him, which is ridiculous. We have the divorce papers drawn up already." Maureen paused. "You should tell Enrique that Isaiah is back. Maybe he'll want to accompany you too. You shouldn't be doing this without him around."

  "He is in the Maldives," Colleen said, feeling almost happy that he was. She needed to face Isaiah on her own, without an audience. "I can hardly get him at this time--different time zones and all of that."

  "You don't have to sound so happy about that," Maureen said. "Send him an email then. Even though I think this news is better off heard in person."

  *****

  Colleen booked her flight according to Maureen's instructions and asked Andrea how to reach the airport. Andrea had offered to take her after asking many questions. Why was she leaving? Was something wrong?

  She had told her that there was an emergency with a family member in Jamaica and that her relative was back from being presumed dead. Andrea had found that part of the story fascinating and had offered to pick her up in the morning. Maybe she would not have found the story as fascinating if Colleen had told her that the relative back from the dead was her first husband and that maybe Colleen wasn't really married to her uncle after all. Her marriage to Enrique was void. She was a bigamist.

  She sat before the computer, staring at the blank email screen. She had already typed enriquelopez@mail in the address field and was staring at it so hard it was becoming blurry.

  What should she tell him?

  Hi Enrique, Isaiah is back. I am gone to Jamaica to see for myself. Will call you later.

  That sounded cold even to her. Isaiah is back sounded too brief. She needed to elaborate.

  Isaiah is back from the dead--well, he hadn't died, which means we aren't really married. And I am going back to Jamaica to see him, to make sure that he is real and that this is not a dream.

  Nope.

  She closed her eyes and in her mind’s eye saw Enrique staring at her as he liked to do when she woke up, his eyes soft with love. Enrique loved her; sometimes he was so intense with it.

  Colleen inhaled shakily. She didn't know if she felt the same all-consuming love that he had for her. He would do anything for her and she knew this. She didn't want to hurt him but Isaiah was her first love. The man she was used to loving.

  She was in a state of emotional flux right now; she didn't know what she really felt for either man.

  Enrique was new and her feelings for him were heavily wrapped up in them having the best sex of her life. Was what she had with Enrique love?

  Were the feelings that she still claimed to have for Isaiah just a sugar-coated fantasy because his story was tragic and she was lonely? He had gone missing at the height of their relationship. She had never gotten closure.

  She stared at the blank screen again and then started writing.

  Dear Enrique, I am gone back to Jamaica for a while. Isaiah has returned from the dead and I just have to go home to sort things out.

  She closed the email with a simple ‘Colleen.’ She didn't pack anything. She washed the dishes in the sink and then she sat in the living room, afraid to think, afraid to feel because either way, she sensed she was in deep trouble now.

  *****

  On their journey to Whitehouse, Maureen was unlike her usual talkative self and Tucker looked tense.

  "I am the other man," he had joked to Colleen. "I don't think I am comfortable with that. I am the Family Life Director at church, you know."

  Colleen had tried to smile but she was too keyed up. Tucker knew that Maureen was not interested in Greg; he had nothing to worry about. She wondered about Greg; how he must be feeling. Somebody must have told him by now that Maureen had long ceased to be his wife and had remarried. He must have visited Maureen's family’s house and found out from them that Maureen had lost the baby.

  What was old news for everyone was fresh for him now. And now there would be another harsh blow. Divorce. She kind of disapproved with the swiftness with which Maureen was cutting him out of her life. He hadn't been back for two days. Knowing Maureen, she would rush up to the house, say, "Hi Greg, how are you? Could you sign on the dotted line, please?" and after he signed run toward the car, wave at him and drive away.

  She opened her mouth to ask Maureen if that was what she was going to do and then thought better of it. Maureen was obviously in deep thought, probably worried that Greg would create a problem because they shared a child together and things would not run as smoothly.

 
; Colleen’s mind wandered to Isaiah. Maureen had said that they were captured and taken to an island to work on a coca plantation, and that they were not tortured or anything. She thanked God for small mercies.

  The only thing Isaiah needed to look forward to now was starting over again. She now felt happy that she had not sold his boat. Every couple of months a fisherman or two would come to her to buy it but she had been renting it out to anybody who was interested and had made sure that it was still in tip-top shape.

  *****

  Whitehouse looked sleepy as usual when they passed through the township. Colleen realized that after only a few short weeks in New York she had already gotten used to the hustle and bustle of the city.

  She found that she was getting nervous the closer they got to the scheme. She looked down at herself; she was in an aqua blue sundress. Andrea had said that it was a Donna Karen, an expensive brand. She had on matching shoes and a bracelet watch to match. She took out a mirror from a tan bag and stared at her face. Would Isaiah see any unsavory changes? She looked the same to herself. She inhaled and exhaled deeply. This was it; she was drifting nearer and nearer to Isaiah.

  Tucker stopped at Greg's house first.

  "Wish me luck," Maureen said, getting out of the car.

  Colleen got out too. "He was my friend too. I have to say hello."

  Maureen sighed. "Yes, yes, I guess." They walked up the walkway.

  Maureen knocked on the weathered front door. The place was seriously overgrown. Spanish needles and other weeds were overflowing the once-pristine lawn.

  The house also looked as if it needed some TLC.

  "You could have maintained the place," Colleen said, looking around.

  Maureen shrugged. "It is Greg's father's place. He should have done something to it, not me. Frankly, when I left here I hardly ever gave it a thought."

  The door opened and Greg swung it wide open. He was shirtless and in blue jeans. He looked sleepy.