it now. Besides, David, yuh work mighty hard fe dis. Tek it, mon.”
Accepting the money gratefully, David embraced his father. It amounted to a little over seven pounds. “Papa, sometimes when me look ’pon yuh its like yuh is ah mon wid nuff untold stories to tell. But me coulda never expect ah better fader. May de Most High bless yuh. Papa, jus’ one t’ing me affe tell yuh. Don’t be offended. But Hortense would like to feel ya mighty hand ’pon her cheek too.”
Joseph nodded. “Yuh know ya two sister more dan me know dem meself. It’s nah dat me don’t love Hortense.”
“Me know, Papa,” David reassured.
“Ah mon don’t pick an’ choose him favourite chile. It kinda happens. It’s like somebody already set it.”
“Me realise dat, Papa.”
Pocketing the money, David set off down the hill, leaving his father standing alone. Unseen by both of them was Levi, looking down from a tree about half a mile away. “May Moses bless him every step,” he muttered to himself.
In the weeks following David’s departure, Hortense only spoke when spoken to. She would arrive home from school, dutifully and silently perform her chores and sit under her adopted Blue Mahoe tree, most of the time accompanied by Jenny. From there they would simply gaze out towards the southern hills, wondering what David was up to. Sometimes Amy could hear them singing a gospel song, Hortense’s pained, shrill voice betraying her bruised heart. Kwarhterleg voiced a concern about Hortense’s behaviour but Amy shrugged it off, saying, “Give her time. She’ll be alright. Jenny’s wid her.”
Jenny took it upon herself to bring her sister out of her melancholy, walking her to school, performing chores that were designated to her sister, whispering to her at night. Every evening she asked Hortense if she wanted her to braid her hair. Hortense would offer a forlorn look, replying, “but David nah here to see it!”
Relenting after the seventh week of David’s departure, Hortense allowed Jenny to braid her hair into a ‘corn row’ style under the Blue Mahoe. When Jenny had finished, she said, “yuh look pretty, Hortense. Very pretty. When yuh grow yuh will attract nuff mon fancy. Me nah tell nuh lie. Why yuh don’t come wid me to Gran’papa Neville so yuh cyan look inna de looking glass?”
A faint hint of a smile caressed Hortense’s cheeks. Her first smile since David left. “Yuh sure me look pretty? Me wish me coulda show it off to David.”
“Nuh worry, Hortense. David soon come ’pon ah visit. An’ when him come back him cyan see yuh pretty like today. Becah from now on me will braid ya hair like dis. Come, let we look fe Gran’papa!An’ if we behave good, Gran’mama might tell we Anancy stories.”
Hortense’s face opened into a broad grin. They set off together, arm in arm. The sisters called in on him on their return from school every day. Neville, who shared Hortense’s sadness, would place Hortense on his donkey and would lead her in country walks, teaching her old songs and slave spirituals. Jenny would occupy Melody’s time, always laughing and being delighted in the crafty and secretive ways of the Anancy character of Melody’s fairytales. In school drawing lessons, Hortense would sketch trees and landscapes, she always named the area beyond the horizon as ‘David’s place’.
Jenny covered her text pages in myriad doodles of spiders, some with human heads and some with human legs. She loathed to show any of her classmates her artistry and when the teacher displayed her work upon the classroom wall, Jenny refused to sketch again. At home, Amy noticed that her daughters’ long battle for Joseph’s attention had ceased. If there was a victor, Amy thought it was Jenny, who still enjoyed the intimate affection that her father offered her. But she found it strange that Hortense seemed to give up on her father’s love. Sometimes she blatantly ignored Joseph’s coming home from work despite his
Accepting the money gratefully, David embraced his father. It amounted to a little over seven pounds. “Papa, sometimes when me look ’pon yuh its like yuh is ah mon wid nuff untold stories to tell. But me coulda never expect ah better fader. May de Most High bless yuh. Papa, jus’ one t’ing me affe tell yuh. Don’t be offended. But Hortense would like to feel ya mighty hand ’pon her cheek too.”
Joseph nodded. “Yuh know ya two sister more dan me know dem meself. It’s nah dat me don’t love Hortense.”
“Me know, Papa,” David reassured.
“Ah mon don’t pick an’ choose him favourite chile. It kinda happens. It’s like somebody already set it.”
“Me realise dat, Papa.”
Pocketing the money, David set off down the hill, leaving his father standing alone. Unseen by both of them was Levi, looking down from a tree about half a mile away. “May Moses bless him every step,” he muttered to himself.
In the weeks following David’s departure, Hortense only spoke when spoken to. She would arrive home from school, dutifully and silently perform her chores and sit under her adopted Blue Mahoe tree, most of the time accompanied by Jenny. From there they would simply gaze out towards the southern hills, wondering what David was up to. Sometimes Amy could hear them singing a gospel song, Hortense’s pained, shrill voice betraying her bruised heart. Kwarhterleg voiced a concern about Hortense’s behaviour but Amy shrugged it off, saying, “Give her time. She’ll be alright. Jenny’s wid her.”
Jenny took it upon herself to bring her sister out of her melancholy, walking her to school, performing chores that were designated to her sister, whispering to her at night. Every evening she asked Hortense if she wanted her to braid her hair. Hortense would offer a forlorn look, replying, “but David nah here to see it!”
Relenting after the seventh week of David’s departure, Hortense allowed Jenny to braid her hair into a ‘corn row’ style under the Blue Mahoe. When Jenny had finished, she said, “yuh look pretty, Hortense. Very pretty. When yuh grow yuh will attract nuff mon fancy. Me nah tell nuh lie. Why yuh don’t come wid me to Gran’papa Neville so yuh cyan look inna de looking glass?”
A faint hint of a smile caressed Hortense’s cheeks. Her first smile since David left. “Yuh sure me look pretty? Me wish me coulda show it off to David.”
“Nuh worry, Hortense. David soon come ’pon ah visit. An’ when him come back him cyan see yuh pretty like today. Becah from now on me will braid ya hair like dis. Come, let we look fe Gran’papa!An’ if we behave good, Gran’mama might tell we Anancy stories.”
Hortense’s face opened into a broad grin. They set off together, arm in arm. The sisters called in on him on their return from school every day. Neville, who shared Hortense’s sadness, would place Hortense on his donkey and would lead her in country walks, teaching her old songs and slave spirituals. Jenny would occupy Melody’s time, always laughing and being delighted in the crafty and secretive ways of the Anancy character of Melody’s fairytales. In school drawing lessons, Hortense would sketch trees and landscapes, she always named the area beyond the horizon as ‘David’s place’.
Jenny covered her text pages in myriad doodles of spiders, some with human heads and some with human legs. She loathed to show any of her classmates her artistry and when the teacher displayed her work upon the classroom wall, Jenny refused to sketch again. At home, Amy noticed that her daughters’ long battle for Joseph’s attention had ceased. If there was a victor, Amy thought it was Jenny, who still enjoyed the intimate affection that her father offered her. But she found it strange that Hortense seemed to give up on her father’s love. Sometimes she blatantly ignored Joseph’s coming home from work despite his
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