Read Online The Heart Does Not Bend by Makeda Silvera - Free Book Online

voice was slurred.
    “Over to Punsie, Mama, ah going to look for little Freddie.”
    “No, tek off yuh clothes. Come lie down wid mi.”
    My anger stewed as I lay there beside her, smelling her rum breath, seeing her mouth drooling saliva onto the pillow. When she began to snore, I tried quietly to get up, but she grabbed hold of my hands.
    “Stay, don’t go out dere. Mi nuh want nutten happen to yuh. Mi have to deliver yuh to yuh mother in good condition.” I could hear my friends playing hide-and-seek, throwing balls, could hear their light-hearted laughter.
    “She have yuh when she just turn fifteen, and yuh not far from dat. Yuh soon turn thirteen, mi want hand yuh over to her widout any damage. Mi was fifteen when mi had Peppie, spoil mi years. Mi was a good girl, obedient, mi never bad, or run up and down, mi just fall in love too quick. But him mother had big plans fi him, and mi never in de picture, mi family too poor, and mi mother couldn’t read or write.Quick-quick she send him go England, and mi never hear from de bwoy again, not one letter, not even a postcard. When Peppie born, de woman say a not her son pickney even though him was dead stamp of him. Mi had it rough, life never easy fi mi, even now.…” My grandmother’s voice had a regretful edge to it. She held on tightly to my skinny arms and dozed for a minute, then went on.
    “A nuh likkle try mi try wid all mi pickney dem. Mi really try. An’ de second man mi fall for was Oliver, and him worse. De only thing him ever give mi was a wedding ring, which mi had to sell, fi feed de pickney dem. Man nuh good, yuh can’t depend on dem. Dem is just a necessary evil. Ah glad Freddie left de island. Peppie will tek care of him. Teach him responsibility. Thank God Glory gaan. It would a pain mi fi see her go through pickney after pickney wid dem wutliss man, wid not a penny in a dem pocket. All dem have is promises.…” She drifted back to sleep.
    The binge lasted five days. Each night I had to go to bed early. I was glad when the drinking ended and I could be back outside with my friends. Punsie had come by every night, but after getting no answer at the locked door, she gave up. It was the same with Petal, who’d called over the fence. It didn’t take long for them to know why I couldn’t come out to play. Sometimes when Mama lost herself to the rum, her feet would become unsteady and I’d have to hold her arms and support her as we walked down the dead-end street.
    After the binge had ended, I was playing marbles with Punsie when she asked me if my grandmother was okay again. Even though she was one of my best friends, her question embarrassed me.
    “What yuh mean?”
    “Ah mean if she stop drink now.”
    I knelt in the dirt and looked steadily at the marble in my hand, unable to answer.
    “Is nutten to feel any way ’bout, everybody pon de street know dat yuh granny drink and drunk and stagger up an’ down de street,” she laughed. “Look pon fi mi father—him do de same, except him a man.”
    She hadn’t said it in a mean way, but I didn’t care. She had no business. I got up from the ground, seized her and punched her in the mouth.
    “Shut up,” I said.
    She punched me in the stomach and I fell down. Punsie came at me again, but I was quick and grabbed her plaits. We rolled around in the dirt until her brother Dennis pulled us apart.
    “What unnu fighting ’bout? Unnu a gal pickney yuh know, it nuh look good.”
    Punsie flashed her hands and cut her eyes at him.
    “So what de fight about?” he insisted.
    “Nutten,” Punsie said. She brushed herself off and strolled up the street toward her yard. I went home feeling mixed-up but justified in hitting Punsie.
    After the fight, I spent less time outside. Instead, I sat watching Mama prepare pastries for Grand-aunt Ruth’s and the Chinese shops. She looked so different then, no hint of the other woman who had kept me hostage, no sign of the woman who had cried and railed about