HURRICANE STORY, 1944
- Each weekday morning
- my father the dandy put on
- his bicycle clips
- his straw boater
- and pens lined up in pocket
- hair slicked down
- vowels well oiled
- he rode off to work at
- Solomon's Drygoods and Haberdashery
- where he was assistant (white-collar class)
- Every Sunday
- dressed the same way to flaunt his glory
- he pedalled uphill for miles
- to where his navel-string was buried
- and when he left
- freewheeling downhill
- his barefoot country brothers
- ran long distances behind
- falling back from exhaustion
- while their pride
- their hope
- kept riding
- on that frail back
- Then (his mother complained)
- before he get establish and
- help his own family to gain
- their due reward
- as is only right and proper
- as it ordain (as it set out in the Good Book amen)
- he take up with this girl
- that don't come from nowhere
- she dark she plain
- nobody know what
- he see in her when
- a man in his calibre could get
- any girl he want (little most)
- Mark My Words
- she going to cause him to turn down
- again
- But through her
- they got the house
- for though he was a gentleman in good employment
- (first class) it plain to see
- (she of few words said)
- one body money can't stretch
- She turned back to the soil
- You see what I mean his mother said
- also: you mek yu own bed you must lie on it
- and: we all have we own row to hoe
- My mother who hardly ever spoke
- crooned hymns in the garden
- to her skellion tomatis pumpkin melon
- which thrived (as everybody knows)
- from her constant labouring
- (nothing like a pregnant woman to encourage
- pumpkin and melon)
- she sang mournful hymns as she reaped
- sang as she took her crops to market
- My father never wanted
- a higgler for a wife
- never wanted to turn back
- to that life he'd escaped from
- never wanted (in public)
- to acknowledge this rooting
- in the soil
- But the house must be paid for
- (though nothing for insurance)
- the children fed
- sent to school
- In '44 when the hurricane struck
- it all came unstuck
- the roof the fields the job
- (for Mr Solomon lost his shop
- and laughingly retired on his insurance)
- My mother clapped her hands and
- ordered us children
- to comb the nearby fields
- for battered planks
- and twisted corrugated zinc
- ordered us to climb up
- nail the roof back down
- ordered us to thank the Lord each night
- for what we were about to receive.
- – black cerasee tea and water crackers –
- ordered us early in the morning
- to come into the garden early before school to pick caterpillars
- off tomatis and melon
- ordered us to grow straight
- like skellion
- My father stopped putting brilliantine
- on his hair
- his vowels went flat
- as the tyres on the bicycle he finally sold
- to buy us school books
- he had never noticed we had stolen his pens (telltale ink
- leaking from our pockets) never noticed
- the battered straw boater disappear
- (jauntily reappearing on top of our mother's
- head-tie as she strode off to market one day)
- No job he could find
- worthy of a man of his abilities
- (his mother agreed)
- couldn't turn back to the muck
- when his hands had been clean for so long
- something bound to turn up
- Meantime
- he coasted downhill
- and we settled into our new routine:
- Monday Tuesday Wednesday our mother worked in the fields
- Thursday Friday she went to market
- Saturday she left him money on the dresser
- He took it and went to Unity Bar and Grocery got drunk
- came home and beat her
- Sunday she went to church and sang