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

to take a second look at me. I wasn’t a pretty girl. I was skinny and tall, taller than Punsie. My only redeeming features were my eyes, bright and shiny like ackee seeds, and my large breasts.
    Punsie nodded. “What mi must tell him?”
    “Tell him mi like him too. But him can’t come to mi yard. Ah will meet him over at yours.”

    The more my grandmother drank the more Uncle Mikey stayed away. One day while we were eating dinner, he announced that he was moving the first-Sunday-of-the-month partiesover to Angela and Frank’s house. Mama’s face showed no emotion. I could not tell whether she had known that it was just a matter of time before this happened, or whether it was a big surprise. Her voice betrayed her. It had all the heat of hot oil in a frying pan.
    “So dis area nuh good enough fi yuh anymore? A rich-people neighbourhood yuh want now? Remember where yuh come from. I tell yuh dat all de time, so nuh fool yuhself. Remember seh de higher monkey climb, de more him ass expose.”
    “Is nutten to do with that, Mama, is just dat ah can see dat yuh don’t tek much to Frank. And ah trying mi best not to upset yuh. Ah don’t want nutten to come between mi and yuh,” he muttered.
    “But look how long yuh having dese party, and nutten don’t come between us. Yuh don’t see fi yuhself how me and de others get on good? Yuh ever see mi show dem bad face? Look pon yuh birthday party—or yuh feget?”
    “Well, is just you ah thinking ’bout,” he tried again.
    “But me and Frank nuh have any problems with each other. Him can come here anytime, for dis is where yuh live.”
    “Okay, Mama,” he gave in.
    “Eat up yuh food before it get cold,” she said, satisfied. Then she added, “Me and Molly going up to Ruth restaurant. Yuh want to come for de walk?”
    My uncle said he wasn’t up to it, he was tired and needed an early night.

    A month later, my grandfather arrived at our house unexpectedly. It was an unusually cool February night, and my grandmother and I were in bed talking about Port Maria and her childhood when we heard a faint tap at the front door.
    “Somebody must be out dere. Who could be out dere at dis hour?” Mama grumbled, getting out of bed and turning on the light. I followed close behind. “Who out dere?” she called boldly.
    A man’s voice I didn’t recognize came through the closed door. “Maria, is me. Open de door.”
    “Me who?”
    “Is me, yuh husband, Oliver.”
    “Oliver?” she echoed in disbelief.
    “Yes, yuh husband,” he said again. “Ah sick, ah need help. Open de door.”
    “What happen to hospital, dem nuh open all night?” she asked through the closed door.
    “Maria, please, please have a heart, open de door,” he pleaded.
    She was silent for a moment while he kept tapping, kept pleading with her. I stood behind the curtains dividing the living room from the bedrooms, feeling half-afraid. I’d never met him, but I had heard enough over the years to be frightened of him. He used to beat my grandmother.
    She opened the door. I heard him come in and slump onto the couch. Then my grandmother’s voice: “Lawd God Almighty, a who do dis to yuh?”
    She shouted at me to get a sheet and a blanket, a wet rag, Dettol, bandages. I couldn’t make out anything of his features, even though the lights in the living room were on. Hisface was caked with blood and his elbows bruised and bleeding. His pants were torn at the knees.
    “Boil a pan of hot water and bring another towel, dis need more dan a wet rag,” Mama ordered.
    Soon after she sent me to bed. I kept my ears open. “Yuh can stay here for a night or two, then yuh have to leave.”
    Uncle Mikey found him lying on the couch that night when he came home. He rapped at our bedroom door, and my grandmother got up and went into his. I heard them whispering. “Mama, him can’t stay here. Nuh room is here, not for him.”
    “Is only till him head feel better, after mi nuh fool fi go tek up crosses.”
    Uncle