Edited by Kristine Simelda
Boney dozed comfortably in a hammock strung between two coconut trees near his shanty. He was fast asleep with an old straw hat on his head and a pipe in his mouth when the giggles of young children on the beach woke him. He sat up and looked around in annoyance at the sudden serenade. “What de hell?”
He threw his hat down in the sand and spit out his pipe in a rage. He valued his solitude, damn it!
Now that he was hatless, the old scar that had given him his nickname revealed itself. It was nestled under his left cheek, its asymmetrical lines fanning out to form the shape of a fishbone. The legend was that he got the scar on a fishing expedition as a young man. But in the traditional village of Millpede, where gossip, as well as fish, were their lifeline, stories spread like wildfire. Over the years, many tales had circulated —Boney’s mother once beat him so severely with a fishbone that it left a scar; a mackerel frying in hot oil had exploded and marked him for life; a mermaid kissed him on the cheek, and he blushed so hotly it left a brand. Well, let them talk. Only Boney—lanky, dark-skinned, cantankerous Boney—knew for sure.
At the same time that Boney awoke on the west coast, Delphine made her way through customs at the Melville Hall airport. This was her first visit to the island.
Growing up, Delphine heard tales about the village of Millpede when her mum, Carol, told her bedtime stories about the place. Carol said the village was too small for a forward-thinking man like her sometimes boyfriend David. After he found good work in Virginia, he begged Carol to come to the States and marry him. What choice did she have? Eight months later, a daughter was born, presumably prematurely.
As an only child, Delphine was modern and independent. Her parents were often busy, so she went to the mall and movies with her friends, where she learned the ways of a privileged world. Her mother frequently talked about a fisherman named Dolphus Aaron with a dreamy tone in her voice. After her mother passed away unexpectedly from a heart attack, Delphine found Carol’s diary while cleaning. She should have known better than to read something so personal, but she couldn’t help it.
What she read in the diary changed everything.
Once things were settled, Delphine decided it was time to visit the place Mom loved so dearly and find out the truth. By travelling to the island, she hoped she would get a clue as to what had been hidden in her mother’s heart all those years. She was determined not to leave until she discovered her true roots.
So, there she was. A Virginian girl standing in the island airport, trying to choose a taxi and hoping not to get robbed by the driver. The wind tugged at her yellow sundress and ruffled her Brazilian weave. She fought to hold down the hem of her dress, then clamped her palms over her elaborate hairstyle. She had forgotten to put on sunscreen, and the sun tantalized her caramel skin while she stood waiting. Her mind swirled while rivulets of sweat ran down her back. What was she doing here? What was she hoping to find?
When the taxi drivers looked at Delphine, they saw fair game—a foreigner who was naïve about proper fares. All except Uncle Max, a driver who took every opportunity to preach the gospel all the way to the Sunset Beach Hotel, where she had made reservations.
The hotel was beautiful. Delphine arrived in time to witness a magnificent sunset. She had never seen anything so breathtaking, so she sat on the beach in silence and let her thoughts wander. She had to put her speculations to rest. Why would her mother hide the truth? What about David, who she knew as her father? There was no resemblance. Who would tell her the truth? Delphine shook herself from the trance. She needed to get to Millpede, where she might find the answers to her burning questions.
The sun was about to set over the sea as the village fishermen pulled their boats ashore. The place was an ironic paradox: sparkling waves repeatedly kissed the beach that was littered with junk food wrappers and stinking dead fish too small to be sold. The sky, which had been washed-out blue earlier, was now a lovely fusion of light orange, blue and gray.
With their boats safely onshore and their nets hung to dry in the boat-houses, the men headed home walking side by side, shoulders upright, like soldiers coming back from war. It had been a good day for them. That night, after the sun disappeared, the moon failed to rise. The mountains beyond the village seemed to draw closer in the darkness while choirs of insects sang their hearts out, right up until dawn.
The next morning, Matilda sat on a wooden bench in front of her house taking some shade. The house was warm this time of day, and she had sent the children to the river to wash the dishes. She spotted a foreigner headed her way.
Who for her? she thought.
Delphine nodded and smiled as she passed Matilda, who couldn’t stop staring.
Matty flew off her bench and hastily followed the stranger, playing catch up. “Who you looking for?” she inquired.
Delphine turned to face her. “Um, can you help me find a man named Dolphus Aaron?”
“Dolphus? I never hear that name before.” Matty frowned. “You sure is here he living?”
“This is Millpede, right?”
“Yah, Millpede.” Matty scratched her locks. “But we doh have no Dolphus here. We hardly have men here.”
Perplexed, Matty hailed Dolly. “I helping my new friend look for someone. She a foreigner.”
“Who she looking for?” asked Dolly.
“Dolphus something…”
“Dolphus Aaron,” Delphine butted in.
“What kind of name that?”
Matty shrugged. “She say he from Millpede, so I helping her.”
“Why you doh ask Sharon. She down by the river. She know everybody birth name like she the village registry.”
“Lewwe go!” said Matty. “By the way, what’s your name?”
“I’m Delphine. You?”
“I is Matty.”
Matty held Delphine’s hand and pulled her in the direction of the river. She passed her children straight and left her new friend to navigate the rocks on her own. She rushed to the bank where Sharon was talking to Ruth, the village washerwoman.
After their usual greeting, Matty blurted out, “Who is Dolphus, nuh, Sharon? I trying to help out a friend.”
It was then she noticed Delphine trying to navigate the river rocks with her shoes in her hands. It was really a sight to behold.
Sharon thought for a minute. “Dolphus? The name sounds familiar, you know. What’s the surname?
“Hmmm. Delphine? What’s the surname again?
Delphine looked up from her precarious journey across the rocks. “Aaron,” she said.
“One Aaron I know it have left we. Ma Gravy son. The fisherman with the scar…”
“Boney?!”
Sharon threw up her hands in exasperation. “Boney you looking for? You could just say that. Come let’s go.”
And with that all three women headed towards the bayside, where Boney was sure to be.
They found him nestled in his hammock with his eyes closed. He hummed one of Sparrow's popular calypsos.
“Aye! Boney!” Matty called.
Startled, he grabbed his hat from his head, placed it on his chest, and sat up looking thoroughly vexed.
“Who calling me dere, nuh?”
“Is me. Matty."
“You dat disturbing me dere? Wat you want?”
“Is a stranger that looking for you,” said Sharon.
Boney glanced in Delphine’s direction and sucked his teeth.
“Is sen dey sen allu for me? Tell me wat you want.”
Delphine swallowed so hard she was sure the others heard her gulp. She took a deep breath and said, “Carol was my mother.”
Before Boney could say a word, Matty gasped “Carol? Carol was your mother?” she repeated.
“Go at your home, Matty,” Boney said gruffly. “Go an’ cook Mervin food.”
She nodded and left while he said, “Affus she bamsy.”
“I gone too,” said Sharon.
“Thank you.” Delphine said to the two of them as they left.
To be continued.
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Thank you for journeying with me. You are appreciated.
Such a great read. So many beautiful details!
The imagery in this story is priceless. I could see and feel everything. I walked up inside coulibistrie and then back down to the sea side to look for boney.
The sounds, colours and expressions of the characters stand out magnificent.
You have really refined your craft.
I can't wait to see where this story goes. Part 2 pls