Part 14 (1/2)
”I am going to excuse myself and go back inside,” I said. ”I do not want to leave the baby alone for long.”
”The old woman, she is going to send word to your mother that you are here,” she said.
”My mother does not concern herself with where I am.”
”You are judging her much too harshly.”
”When Joseph and I first married, I used to write her every month. I have sent her pictures of Brigitte. She keeps the letters, but makes no reply.”
”She will come,” said Tante Atie.
”Come where?”
”She will come here. She has promised for a long time to come and arrange the old woman's funeral and the old woman will place on the ca.s.sette words begging her to come, so you can settle this quarrel.”
Brigitte got up early the next morning, ready to bounce and play. I lay her on the bed and tried to make her do some baby exercises.
In the next room, my grandmother was recording her reply ca.s.sette to my mother.
”Martine, ki jan ou ye?” How are you? ”We are doing fine here, following in the shadow of Father Time. I am well, except for the old bones that ache sometime. Dessalines has died. Macoutes kill him. Do you remember him? He was the coal man.
”I don't even need to talk about Atie. She is carrying on like she has got a pound of rocks on her chest. Sadness is now her way of life. You needn't worry about Sophie. Could be she is on a little holiday. The bird, it always returns to the nest.”
My grandmother stopped to clear her throat. Brigitte grabbed my fingers and held them tightly as she rolled on her side.
”Is Atie in her room?” yelled my grandmother.
”She is out!” I shouted back.
Brigitte shrieked, trying to scream along.
”Is there something you want to say to your mother?”
”No!”
The recorder clicked to a stop.
”Any more you want to say?” asked my grandmother.
”I think we've already said enough.”
In the distance, the bells tolled, announcing Dessalines's funeral. Tante Atie stumbled into her room, her body rocking from side to side. She lowered herself to the ground, her large feet barely sidestepping my outstretched leg and Brig-itte s toes. Tante Atie's eyes were red; she blinked quickly trying to keep them open. She snapped her fingers and made faces at Brigitte, to get her attention.
”Are you all right?” I asked her.
”Fine, good.”
Her breath smelled like rum. She stretched her body out on the floor and within a few seconds, fell asleep.
She woke up at noon with a panic-stricken look in her eyes.
”My notebook?” she asked. ”You seen it?”
I shook my head no. Brigitte was asleep on the bed. I was afraid that Tante Atie's sudden movements would wake her up.
”Maybe the book's in my room,” she mumbled, heading for the door.
”Were you drinking?” I asked.
”I drink a little to forget my troubles,” she said. ”It's no more a vice than the old woman and her tobacco.”
She walked out to the yard, splashed some water over her face, then started towards the road.
She came back in the very early morning hours. The voices in the yard kept me awake.
”You can go now,” said Tante Atie.
”Let me see you enter,” insisted Louise. ”That calf of yours, go and rest that calf of yours.”
”People do not die from aching calves,” said Tante Atie. ”You think I am an old lady. I do not need a walking cane.”
”Be pleasant, Atie. Go inside.”
I heard Tante Atie walk inside.
The bed squealed under her body as she crashed on it. Louise walked home alone in the fading dusk.
Chapter 22.
The next morning, a pack of rainbow b.u.t.terflies hovered around the porch. I was sitting on the steps, watching the sun rise behind the shack spotted hills.
My grandmother's face was powdered with ashes as she left the house. Walking past me, she tapped my knee with the tip of her cane. She lowered a black veil over her face as she twirled a rosary between her fingers.
The baby let out a sudden cry from Tante Atie's room. I rushed back in. Tante Atie was pacing as she carried her around the room. Brigitte stretched out her hands when she saw me. She pressed her face down on my neck when I held her against my body.
”Did the old woman leave for the cemetery?” Tante Atie asked.
”Is that where she's going?”
”She is going to pay her last respects to Dessalines.”
Brigitte clawed my neck with her fingernails.