customsâanother ordeal with three childrenâwe sat down in the terminal, waiting to be picked up. Moments later, Ziggy, who was still nursing, wanted to be fed. So I took out my breast and started to feed him. Bob had gone somewhere and was on his way back to us when he saw me doing thisâand he got so upset! âWhy are you doing that?â he said. âCover up yourselfâyou donât do that in America!â
Now it was my turn to be upset! I said, âWhat are you talking about?â
âHow could you do that?â he said. âYou know, if my mother saw you doing that she would never ⦠In America you canât feed the baby like that! You go one side or maybe go in the toilet!â
I couldnât believe it. That seemed absurdâto feed your baby in the toilet! I said, âCome on now, Bob, thatâs nothing. My babyâs hungry, and when my babyâs hungry Iâll feed my baby anywhere!â A few years later women in the States actually had to demonstrate for the right to nurse their babies in public.
When Cedella and Eddie Booker arrived, they couldnât imagine how weâd managed, with the children and the baggage and everything else, because in addition to all that Iâd brought all the Jamaican foods I knew Mrs. Booker had been cravingâroast breadfruit, ackee, mango, tea bush, every little thing. She kept saying, âHow did you do it? How did you do this?â And she couldnât believe her eyes when she took a good look at me, she said, because I looked exactly like her when she was young! Later, when we put our faces together, people said to her, âIs Rita your child or is Nesta?â (Like the rest of Bobâs family, she called him Nesta.) And I began to understand why he might have loved me so. Maybe he was really looking for a replacement after she left him and went to America, and when he saw me, resembling her so much yet as ambitious as he himself was, he might have thought, ooh , this is what I need, this is my girl.
That was Bobâs favorite song when he was trying to catch my attention: âMy girl, my girl/ She used to be my girl â¦â He would sing it whenever he came in: âShe used to be my girl, she used to be my girl â¦â Hearing it, Iâd know he had something up his sleeve. We had a normal lifestyle, with our secret little ways of communicating like any other young couple. The only difference was the chance that music gave us. It was a treasure to us, a gift, but we didnât expect things, we didnât have any great plans or fantasies about what weâd do if we got rich and famous. Superstardom was far from our minds; we were simply trying to establish ourselves and to become independent in the only way that seemed open to us.
After a short time in Wilmington, we left the children with Eddie and Moms (as I eventually called Cedella Booker) and took the train to New York. I have to admit I was scared. When we got off the train in New York and headed for Johnny and Margaret Nashâs apartment, where we were staying, I was almost afraid to walk along the street. I kept saying, âI donât like those buildings, they look like theyâre going to fall over anytime! Theyâre too tall! I wonât look upâthatâs Babylon and itâs going to crumble!â But everyone said, no man, itâs okay. Still, after I got over my fear, I was so impressed that it was hard for me to believe what I was seeing. This was America . Everything seemed so perfect, from the sidewalks to the storefronts to the clothing people wore. And the guest room in Johnny and Margaret âs placeâthat first night, when Bob and I had sex, we didnât want to mess up the bed, so we did it on the table in the kitchen!
In Jamaica, when Margaret had found out that we would be coming to New York, sheâd been all excited at the prospect. âGirl, when I get my hands on
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