Read Online Land of Love and Drowning: A Novel by Tiphanie Yanique - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tiphanie Yanique
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would be hers first.
Owen had not been with Rebekah for all this time, but he had sent money for the son that was his. He had been distracted with his hurting business and the tightness of banks and with Eeona and with sending Eeona away. Now standing in front of him, his only son looked like a grain of sand. He’d so hoped Rebekah would give him a boy child, but now he wished it wasn’t a son after all. He needed another daughter. For already he knew that baby Anette, despite her pluck, was not diluting the ill love he had for Eeona. He noticed now that Esau and Anette looked alike. The same something in the mouth and around the eyes.
Owen knew that this son could never openly inherit anything from him, that he could not carry on the Bradshaw name. But he would help Esau as the boy grew. He planned for the boy to come up knowing who his father really was; it would be one of the open secrets so easily kept on any island. When he died, he’d leave Esau all his experience and a third of his money. All this Owen would do once the shipping business became steady again. When Lovernkrandt or any someone put the proper faith in himand his ship. For now, he stared at Esau and then smiled at Rebekah. The faithful feeling of wanting Rebekah was coming over him and it was a relief. She was wearing her boots as always, though she would take them off to make love to him. She only took them off to do that magic.
The two adults spent many minutes just looking at Jacob Esau and at each other. They sat in opposite chairs in the small sitting room. The shutters were closed so the red of the insides was given only to them; the muted white side exposed to those in the street. Rum was becoming near impossible to procure on island anymore, though Owen knew if anyone had a taste, it would be Rebekah. Still, he restrained himself and rubbed his earlobe instead. Rebekah sat erect, her long dress billowing out and covering the ground around her in all directions. The two adults had not made love with each other for three years.
After tea was offered cautiously and rejected kindly, after his earlobes became raw, Owen finally reached out to touch Jacob Esau’s face. The man’s rough hands scuffed across Jacob’s nose and his eyelids. Cupped his jaw and traced his head.
“You are very handsome, Esau,” the man said. “But of course, you would be.” And then the adults looked at each other. “Play for me, Reba,” the man said.
Jacob Esau’s mother went to the piano. She lifted its cover gently and sat on the bench. She let her fingers touch the keys first without sound. And then very quietly. Giving a sound almost like silence. Before the ears even knew the song was playing. Feeling it first just under the skin where the hair grows, Rebekah eased a pained song of sweetness into the room. She pressed the pedals only very lightly with the tip of her right foot in its black boot.
Owen loved to hear her play. There wasn’t anyone on island who didn’t. He would never say it out loud, but Owen would have traded ten minutes of her piano playing for any one of the shirts Antoinette embroidered for him. Rebekah’s piano, which he’d had shipped from America for her, couldsound like a drizzle, could sound like a storm. It was wet, her music. As a seaman, how could he want it any other way?
Now Owen Arthur picked Jacob Esau up and began waltzing with him. Swinging him around until Jacob Esau laughed and laughed. He flashed this father all his teeth. The scene layered and lasted until Jacob Esau fell asleep in the arms of the ocean-dancing man. And when he woke, he was alone on the settee. He wandered around the small house quietly because there was only quiet in the house.
In his mother’s room he saw this other father leaning over the high bed. His mother’s arms were meeting and crossing at the top of the man’s back. He knew her arms well. But there were her legs at the lower part of the man’s back. One perfect smooth brown foot.
Owen had not been with Rebekah for all this time, but he had sent money for the son that was his. He had been distracted with his hurting business and the tightness of banks and with Eeona and with sending Eeona away. Now standing in front of him, his only son looked like a grain of sand. He’d so hoped Rebekah would give him a boy child, but now he wished it wasn’t a son after all. He needed another daughter. For already he knew that baby Anette, despite her pluck, was not diluting the ill love he had for Eeona. He noticed now that Esau and Anette looked alike. The same something in the mouth and around the eyes.
Owen knew that this son could never openly inherit anything from him, that he could not carry on the Bradshaw name. But he would help Esau as the boy grew. He planned for the boy to come up knowing who his father really was; it would be one of the open secrets so easily kept on any island. When he died, he’d leave Esau all his experience and a third of his money. All this Owen would do once the shipping business became steady again. When Lovernkrandt or any someone put the proper faith in himand his ship. For now, he stared at Esau and then smiled at Rebekah. The faithful feeling of wanting Rebekah was coming over him and it was a relief. She was wearing her boots as always, though she would take them off to make love to him. She only took them off to do that magic.
The two adults spent many minutes just looking at Jacob Esau and at each other. They sat in opposite chairs in the small sitting room. The shutters were closed so the red of the insides was given only to them; the muted white side exposed to those in the street. Rum was becoming near impossible to procure on island anymore, though Owen knew if anyone had a taste, it would be Rebekah. Still, he restrained himself and rubbed his earlobe instead. Rebekah sat erect, her long dress billowing out and covering the ground around her in all directions. The two adults had not made love with each other for three years.
After tea was offered cautiously and rejected kindly, after his earlobes became raw, Owen finally reached out to touch Jacob Esau’s face. The man’s rough hands scuffed across Jacob’s nose and his eyelids. Cupped his jaw and traced his head.
“You are very handsome, Esau,” the man said. “But of course, you would be.” And then the adults looked at each other. “Play for me, Reba,” the man said.
Jacob Esau’s mother went to the piano. She lifted its cover gently and sat on the bench. She let her fingers touch the keys first without sound. And then very quietly. Giving a sound almost like silence. Before the ears even knew the song was playing. Feeling it first just under the skin where the hair grows, Rebekah eased a pained song of sweetness into the room. She pressed the pedals only very lightly with the tip of her right foot in its black boot.
Owen loved to hear her play. There wasn’t anyone on island who didn’t. He would never say it out loud, but Owen would have traded ten minutes of her piano playing for any one of the shirts Antoinette embroidered for him. Rebekah’s piano, which he’d had shipped from America for her, couldsound like a drizzle, could sound like a storm. It was wet, her music. As a seaman, how could he want it any other way?
Now Owen Arthur picked Jacob Esau up and began waltzing with him. Swinging him around until Jacob Esau laughed and laughed. He flashed this father all his teeth. The scene layered and lasted until Jacob Esau fell asleep in the arms of the ocean-dancing man. And when he woke, he was alone on the settee. He wandered around the small house quietly because there was only quiet in the house.
In his mother’s room he saw this other father leaning over the high bed. His mother’s arms were meeting and crossing at the top of the man’s back. He knew her arms well. But there were her legs at the lower part of the man’s back. One perfect smooth brown foot.
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