The Other Side of Paradise: A Memoir Read online

  I sit on the couch holding my face. She tells me to take good note of the incident and consider it anytime I ever think I can be fresh to her. Delano glances fearfully at her before he slips out the front door. She looks me up and down with disgust before she goes into the back room and slams the door.

  Forty-five minutes later Delano comes back with the slab of cheddar. He sits beside me to take off his shoes. I touch his back and he shrugs my hand away. Mummy opens the bedroom door and smiles at him.

  “Goodness! You’re back already?”

  She walks over to him and plants a loud kiss on his cheek.

  “Ooh, Delano! I love you so much! Just you wait and see. I’m going to make you something very special! Canadian macaroni and cheese—with milk in it. Have you ever had that?”

  She tells us that milk is good for growing children. Milk and cheese—not too much cheese, though. Cheese is very fattening. By the time Miss Miles comes home we have already eaten the gooey macaronis with the sour sauce of milk and cheese. The keys jingle as she opens the door.

  “My Lord! Look who is here! Delano, it is so good to see you!” She leans down and kisses Delano. Then she turns to me and whoops before she throws her arms around me and kisses me.

  Arms akimbo, she steps back. “Oh, my goodness! Look at you, Stacey! I have not seen you since the Devil was a boy! You are so tall and beautiful. Both of you are such beautiful children. Welcome, welcome to my house.”

  Miss Miles slips off her shoes and puts her handbag on the dining table. “Oh, children, I am so sorry I was not here when you came. Had I known you would be coming I would have prepared some sandwiches. And I cannot even spend any time with you now because I am leaving for Canada early tomorrow morning and I have so much packing and running around to do. Where is Miss Bernice?”

  I step forward. “She’s in Bethel Town, Miss Miles. Is she put me and Delano on the bus this morning.”

  Miss Miles looks up from her handbag. “The two of you travel all the way from Bethel Town by yourself?”

  We nod.

  Mummy steps in and touches our shoulders. “Don’t nod your heads like cows, children. Mrs. Miles has asked you a question. Open your mouths and answer like civilized people.”

  “Yes, Miss Miles.”

  Mummy’s nails press into my shoulder. “Mrs. Miles. She is a married woman, so her name is Mrs. Miles.”

  “Oh, Lord, Hazel, never mind that! Everyone calls me Miss Miles. But I must say I am very proud of both of you for coming so far on the bus by yourselves. Hazel, can I have a moment with you inside, please?”

  She hugs us again and they both go into the back room. In a few minutes Miss Miles comes back and tells us we can watch TV until it is time to go to bed. Fae Ellington is reading the news. I wish Fae Ellington were my mother. Mummy comes out of the back room and announces that it is time for us to get ready for bed. It is only seven o’ clock, but Delano quickly gets our toothbrushes and pajamas from the bags. Mummy is curled up reading on one bed. Delano and I say our prayers and climb into the other.

  “Good night, Mummy!”

  “Good night, Mummy!”

  She does not respond. I nudge Delano and whisper, “You think she sleeping?”

  “Please, children, I cannot concentrate with all that whispering.”

  Delano covers his head and turns his back to me.

  The next morning Mummy wakes us at dawn and tells us to shower. She tells me to put on my red shorts with the matching red-and-white-striped blouse. Delano has to put on his blue jeans and white T-shirt. The shirt is a little small, so she tells him to change into his blue polo shirt. He tells her that he wants to wear his white T-shirt. She slaps him on the mouth and asks him if he thinks he is a big man.

  “If you are a big man, you should go and find your own accommodations.”

  Miss Miles makes fried eggs and bread and butter. We say grace and then eat breakfast in silence. I volunteer to wash the dishes. Mummy tells Delano to go and make the beds. Afterward I watch Miss Miles stuff things into the three big bags that she is taking with her to Canada. When she is done she calls a taxi. She hugs us and then she is gone, leaving us alone with Mummy.

  The hum of the taxi is still in the air when Mummy calls us into the back room. She tells us that we must never ever go outside. “Staceyann, for years your father has been trying to steal you from me. I don’t want his spies to see where I am keeping you.” Her hand grips her throat. “I will not allow that bastard to take you! I will never let him have you! I would rather die first. I love you more than my life!”

  “Me too, Mummy, I love you more than my life too.”

  “Thank you, my darling. Let’s go take some photographs of your beautiful faces.”

  We stand outside in the garden while she snaps away with Delano’s new camera. We take turns wearing her sunglasses. She takes my braids out and changes my clothes. She brushes Delano’s hair and makes him tilt his head. She tells us we are natural runway models, that we were born to be movie stars.

  We are all laughing and making faces when we get back inside. Delano wants to take more pictures, but Mummy presses her temples and says, “Children, please. Leave me alone now. I have the most terrible headache.” Then she disappears into the back room.

  Miss Miles has a lot of books in her house. I find three Hardy Boys that I have not read. I take all of them down. Delano turns on the TV.

  Mummy comes rushing out of the back room. “Good God! What in heaven’s name is wrong with you children? Did I not say I have a headache? I have a headache! That means you should be very quiet. Why do you need the TV? Television is a lot of crock! Garbage! Turn off the TV and find something to read! Staceyann, why do you need all those books? Are you reading all of them at the same time? And why aren’t you playing with the doll that I brought? Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ! What am I going to do with you?”

  She paces around us. Suddenly she stops. Her arms extend out like she is Jesus on the cross. Then she screams long and hard like she is being pierced in her side and storms out of the room. Delano turns off the TV and tells me to put the two Hardy Boys back on the shelf. We spend the day quietly reading. Lunchtime passes without food. In the evening Mummy calls Delano and tells him to make bread and butter for dinner. “And don’t use a lot of butter. I don’t want you children getting big and fat!”

  The sun goes down and we put on our sleep clothes and brush our teeth. When we are done she emerges from the room. She tells me to take the garbage out.

  “But, Mummy, I’m undressed for going outside. I am already in my sleep clothes.”

  She grabs me by the shoulders and shakes me. “There is no such use of the word undressed! If you are wearing clothes already, you cannot be undressed. Repeat after me: ‘I am not dressed for going outside.’ Say it! ‘I am not dressed for going outside.’ Now go and change into the clothes you had on before and take the garbage out. I am not going to be stuck with two children who can’t even speak properly! I have no idea what Harold and June have been teaching you all these years, but things are going to be different now!”

  The following evening she tells us that she is going out. “I can’t spend my whole life inside babysitting you two.”

  She pulls out a long plastic bag with a green dress inside. She showers and puts a thick white paste all over her face. She tells me that the paste is a deep-skin moisturizer. Half an hour later she washes it off. She catches me peeking at her through the half-closed bathroom door. Her bony fingers beckon for me to join her. The water is patted away with a special face cloth. Then she mists with a spray bottle of strawberry-scented liquid. The cushion by the dresser is plumped. She carefully pencils on her eyebrows. I stand behind her, watching the delicate process. It is magical how she smoothes away the dark spots and pimples and makes her nose look smaller in just a few minutes.

  When her face is perfect, she slips into the green dress and asks me what I think. I tell her she looks like a princess. She kisse
s me. I inhale the sweet scent of strawberries and face powder. On her way out she makes us promise that we won’t watch Dynasty. We promise.

  As soon as she leaves, we turn the TV to Dynasty and talk about how much our mother looks like Alexis Carrington Colby Dexter. We fall asleep in front of the TV. In the middle of the night Delano wakes me and drags me off to bed.

  The next morning Mummy is tired. All day we fetch glasses of water for her. She only comes out to use the bathroom. In the evening she gets dressed to go out again. I watch her make the transformation from ordinary face in the daytime to Alexis Colby at night. She is beautiful at night. I tell her she is more beautiful than the winner of the Miss World beauty pageant.

  “Beauty queens are for a season, love. This face is forever.”

  She likes when I watch her put on her face. At every step of the process I tell her how pretty she is. I sit on the bed as she works. Each day I inch closer to the dressing table. By the fifth day I am leaning on the polished edge just inches from her face. It feels good to be this close to her. She is smiling and I am smiling. We look happy in the mirror. We even look a little alike, except that she is wearing lipstick. I wonder what I would look like with red lips. I reach for the plastic cylinder.

  “What are you doing, touching my things?” She snatches it from me and throws it on the table. “Why are you touching my things? Didn’t I bring things from Canada for you? Why are you touching my things?”

  She slaps my hand and pushes me against the chest of drawers. Her index nail is pointed at my nose. “Don’t you ever touch my things, nothing, you hear me, nothing. What is mine is mine, and what is yours is yours; just keep your stinking little fingers off my things and we will get along just fine.”

  She slaps me again for good measure.

  The next day she leaves after breakfast. Elmer Fudd chases Bugs Bunny across the TV screen for most of the day. Delano is jittery and irritable. He checks the door, getting up every few minutes to look down the street. When I ask him what’s wrong, he tells me to shut my clappers and don’t ask him any questions. We hear the latch on the gate opening before we see her. As soon as she walks through the door she tells us to pack our things. She sends us to bed before seven. She warns us about talking to each other under the covers. “If I hear any whispering, you guys will be in serious trouble.”

  For the first time since we left Bethel Town, I miss Grandma. I wonder if she misses us. I wish I had hugged her on the bus. I feel like crying, but I am too afraid of Mummy. Instead, I think about the things I will have in Canada. Mummy says that I will have my own room and a little garden to plant in the summertime. I wish Grandma were coming to Canada with us.

  The next morning she takes more pictures of us in the front yard. She combs my hair into a big Afro and tells Delano to get dressed. As she points the camera, she tells Delano that he is going to live with his father today. She makes us stand by the flowers that line the fence while she snaps us in various poses: smiling in sunglasses, without sunglasses, my hair in a ponytail, my hair let out in an Afro—she finishes two rolls of film before she sends Delano to get our bags. The instructions she gives to Delano are clear. Go down to the supermarket. His father is expecting him. He will take him where he is supposed to be. Delano slings the bag over his shoulder and closes the front door softly behind him. I ask Mummy when I will see him again, but she tells me to get my bag and stop asking stupid questions.

  When I return with the bag, she grabs me. “And where is that expensive doll I brought you? Were you planning to leave it here? Did you expect me to fetch it and bring it to you?”

  The doll keeps slipping from my hands, so Mummy yanks the bag away from me. I wonder if she is taking me to my father. I wish she had sent me with Delano. I stop in the middle of the road and tell her I want to go back to the house. She drags me onto the sidewalk and slaps me. I grab her hand and beg, “Mummy, can you please take me back to Bethel Town? Please, Mummy, I don’t want to go anywhere else! I want to go back to Grandma! Please, Mummy, please!”

  She takes my hand and pulls me along. “I cannot imagine why you would want to go back there. June does not want you in her house. The people I am taking you to are happy to have you. What an ungrateful little wretch you are! Come on and stop the crying! After all I have done to convince these people to take you.”

  The taxi drops us off at a place called Paradise Crescent. Across from the crowded square there is a shack painted red, green, and yellow. A tall, skinny rastaman is by the door, swaying to Bob Marley’s “Redemption Song.” I stare at him while Mummy drags me down a small side street called Blood Lane. The street narrows into a steep and rocky pathway. We are moving so fast that I keep falling down. Every time I fall, Mummy screams at me.

  Finally we stop at a high wooden gate. An old yellow house with a red stairway sits on four huge concrete stilts. Its paint is peeling off the walls in large patches. The open cellar is higher than two adults standing atop one another. It is strange to see a clothesline underneath a house. The wide eyes of several children stare at me from behind the half-open doors, like little animals watching. There is a tall man looking at me and scratching his crotch. His rough beard covers a multitude of swollen yellow pimples. He winks at me like we share a secret. Behind him a dark-skinned woman in a blue dress leans over the veranda rail and grins at me. I close my eyes and ask God not to let Mummy leave me here.

  A big brown dog covered in sores and frothing from the mouth ambles toward me. Another, skinny one barks. I hold Mummy’s hand and quickly step behind her. The dark-skinned woman laughs out loud. “Take you time and come up, me darlin’! Don’t look ’pon the dog them. Them not going to do anything to you.” Her voice is sturdy, like big bells in a church.

  Mummy makes me promise to listen to the woman and do exactly as she says. “Remember, now, Chérie, exactly as Auntie tells you or there will be hell to pay when I come back for you!”

  I hold on to her hand and press my body against hers. I don’t really believe that I am staying until she asks Miss John to take good care of her baby. “Please do not let her father near her, he wants to take her and she is my only daughter. My heart couldn’t bear it if he got her. I will be back in two weeks,” she says, “with her passport and her ticket.”

  She kisses me, then pushes me away. She hugs Miss John. “Thank you so much, Miss John. I will do everything in my power to repay you.”

  She kisses me once more. “Au revoir, Ma Chérie. See you soon.” She waves the long red nails and follows the rocky track that leads back to Blood Lane.

  I Will Come Again

  Miss John, who explains that she is my grandfather’s youngest sister, tells me that I can call her Auntie. She asks me if I am hungry. I tell her no. She says that the day is so hot I should at least have a plum or something to cool me down. Auntie has a big smile, bright eyes, and a really big bottom. She clears some cloth from a metal chair with no cushions and tells me to sit down, and sends her son, Glen, to go and find me a sweetsop. “And make sure is a nice big ripe one!”

  I shift my bag away from my feet so I can take off my shoes. Auntie tells me to give the bag to her so that she can put it inside her room. She tells me not to worry about it, that it will be safe inside. Then her bottom is swinging back and forth as she ambles into her room. Glen comes back and hands me a big round sweetsop. I break the green fruit with the bumpy skin in two equal halves. Some of the seeds fall on the floor. Glen picks them up and tosses them over the rail. I hear them hit the rocky ground below. His shirt is old and torn down the front. And his nose is running. I offer him one half. He shakes his head no.

  I don’t know what to say to him. He is dirty and he smells a little bit like fowls. He shows me his marbles and asks me if I want to play. Auntie shouts at him from the bedroom, “Glen, leave her alone! Girl children should not play with marbles.”

  I tell him we can play with my doll. He tells me, “Only batty boy play with dolly! And me is not a batty boy. None of t
he boy them in this house is no batty boy.”

  “What is a batty boy?”

  “You don’t know what a batty boy is? A batty boy is a boy who act like him is a girl and only want to do nastiness with other boys.”

  “Okay. So how many boys live in the house?”

  “Is four of us, but none of we is no batty boy. Me three brother is bigger than me. Jimmy is sixteen. Andy is eighteen and Shappy is twenty. Him is the biggest one, but him is mad, mad, mad.”

  “What happen to him? Him was mad when him was a little boy?”

  Glen explains that when Shappy was younger he was the most brilliant student. He passed every exam with flying colors. Everybody expected him to do very well for himself. But something happened after he moved away for college. Some people say the studying got to him. Others believe it was witchcraft. In any case, he began talking out loud to himself, he stopped going to class, and then he stopped bathing. Eventually he was expelled and now he lives at home, where he steals money to buy weed. Glen says that these days he is obsessed with the FBI, the CIA, and the other people who work for the American government.

  I ask Glen where Shappy sleeps. He tells me not to worry, that he sleeps in the back room. I wonder how far the back room is from the room in which I will sleep. No one has told me if I will sleep by myself or with other people. I have never gone to bed without Delano. I hope Mummy doesn’t take too long to come back for me. I do not see one book, so I ask Glen if there are any books inside. Aunt June used to say a house without books is like a church without God.

  He goes inside and brings back a book called Sprat Morrison. Glen stands patiently by my chair while I read the back cover to see what the book is about. Inside are the exciting adventures of the Jamaican boy called Sprat.

  “Is that a good one? She have other ones in there. You want me fi bring one more fi you?”

  “No, man. This seems like a good one, Glen. Thank you very much for getting it for me.”