Part 5 - Naturalized Flies
Nightfall approached, and though Ena recognized the familiar remnants of anxiety and nervousness, she remained undaunted as she trudged along in efforts to find a place to stay. Somehow, she had convinced herself that she would find a place that would in some way look familiar to her, and that she would meet someone at this place who would remind her of Mas Jas.
That connection to him would confirm that this particular place would be the right place for her to be, at least for now. She didn’t come all this way to be stuck outside. She was so sure that she would find her temporary new home, and was determined to keep her eyes wide open so as not to miss her next best move.
She continued walking, continued looking, continued hoping. She filled her mind with vibrant images of herself moving about in her new short-term home, teaching her new family about Jamaican literature and dessert recipes. She imagined them gathering around her all the time like she was a much-needed fire, and she would gladly extend her warmth to them, a fair exchange in her mind.
She let that vision soothe the what-if’s she felt slowly creeping inward from the edges of her mind; it was working. Minutes passed, more than an hour for sure, but Ena was none the wiser as she walked and envisioned, taking care to decide on every stitch of clothing the family wore, and every drape of fabric around the windows. She just knew she would soon find a place to rest, so she began deepening her relishing of the visuals she was conjuring in her mind, when she was interrupted by a loud noise, a car horn.
Be-beep! Be-beep! It was a large white car and the driver was a strange-looking younger man with a big head full of baby hair and an unusually thin mustache.
“Hey, Chocolate Mama, where you headin wid dat pretty smile? Can I come too?” he smiled as he drove slowly alongside Ena and her bag.
“I’m goin’ about my business, an you are not invited!” she answered firmly, without an ounce of fear in her voice or mind.
“Ooh, we sassy, okaay!” he replied with a giggle. “You been walking for a while now, so maybe you get rest dem legs in this Caddy. Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be walking roun here all by ya lonesome.”
Ena was annoyed at this funny-mustached stranger interrupting her daydream tactics and distracting her from her mission all in one effort.
"Who you goin’ to, And where you from, anyway? You look like you got bout nine different parents.” He peppered her with questions and liked the expression on her face. She didn’t look upset, she looked amused. He kept going.
“But what you is though? You got a white girl nose and black girl lips, and chinese girl eyes! You got that no-nation look, but Black is up in dere, I could see dat. Black don’t hide.” He snickered, hoping she took his compliment as such.
She kept walking but peered at him through the sides of her eyes. He looked at her as if she was a plate full of jerk chicken and hard dough bread. She didn’t trust his grin, and something about him made her mind say ‘stay away!’
And who the hell was he to call somebody's mixed-up looking? He looked like one of those Syrian Jamaicans that lived up the hill from her. There were at least forty of them in that district, and they all looked like versions of the same person. Tall, brown-skinned, perfect teeth, curly hair, and an overall look that definitely was not common to the area.
No way was she going to get into the car with this guy. She decided to pretend he wasn’t there, and moved further over to the other side of the street in efforts to make their communications a bit more strained.
As she moved across the street, she heard a familiar voice coming from the car. “Girl, he ain’t go’n bite you, get on over here!” It was the old woman she’d seen earlier, and she was in the back seat of the car.
“Miss, you ok?” Ena wondered why the old woman would be in the car with this young creep.
“He my son, girl. Now get on in here ‘fore it get too dark an these mosquitoes eat you up like supper!”
Ena still wasn’t comfortable, but surely the old woman was a good sign, right? After all, she had come back for her, and maybe she was a part of the process that God had set up for her to make her way in America.
She said a silent prayer and walked over to the car. The young man got out of the car and opened the back door for Ena to get in. She sat next to the old woman, who touched the side of her face and said,
“Girl who is you, and why you took to dem drugs?”
“Miss, I neva take anything that didn’t belong to me, and what drugs yu talking about?” Ena looked puzzled. She wasn’t sure what the old woman was saying, but she liked the feel of the old woman’s hand against her face. It made her feel that the woman, cryptic words aside, cared for her, if even just a little.
They drove for what seemed a long while, and Ena, being hypnotized by the white lines along the dark road, eventually fell asleep.
Mas Jas had come to her in her sleep. He was holding her hands and talking to her in his soft, raspy voice. When she awoke, she couldn’t remember exactly what Mas Jas had told her, but she remembered it being a warning of sorts. Try as she might, she couldn’t remember the details.
As seemed to be the pattern in this new country, her thoughts were interrupted by a loud noise. When she opened her eyes, a large iron gate was opening in front of her, and they were entering a large building. She wondered whether it could be a government office, and whether they were going to get her sent back home.
“Please, Miss…” Ena began, “Which office is this?” She felt a large warm bubble start to form in her throat, as she squinted her eyes and tried not to panic.
“Girl, you on somethin’, I don’t care what you say! Dis ain’t no office, dis tha house. Fine, ain’t it?”
The old woman sat up straight as if to honor the fact that they had just drove up to the house. “We ain’t been in here but five months, and we mighty proud to be livin’ roun these parts. Bout damn time, too!”
The young man got out of the car and opened both car doors to let Ena and the old woman out of the vehicle. He leaned down to pick up Ena’s bag, but she grabbed it and pulled it to her chest before he could even blink.
“Dang, shaawty, you got a million dollars in there or something?”
Ena raised her right eyebrow and did little else to acknowledge that the young man had even spoken. The old woman snickered at Ena’s expression as the young man hurried around to help her out of the car.
“You gonna be needin’ to call your people, I take it.” The old woman was talking to Ena as she headed towards the three steps that led into the house.
“Yes, Miss.” Ena responded, deciding to play along. Of course, she had no one to call, but she didn’t see any point in letting them know that at the moment.
“Girl, you so polite it’s scary. Stop callin’ me Miss. My name Miss Mary, and this here my son, he go by Trey-T.”
What the hell kind of name is Trey-T? Ena thought to herself as she walked behind the old woman and her son. She was still a bit apprehensive about going into this unusually large house. She clutched her bag and tried her best to keep her wits about her as she stepped inside.
Didn’t the old lady say they’d been in the house for five months? Why was it almost empty? Save for a large circular velvety red couch and a small side table, there wasn’t much else in the living area. One wall in front of the couch was covered with mirrors and there were heavy red drapes around all the windows, even the high windows, which Ena really found quite strange.
Trey-T ran up the stairs as Miss Mary headed towards the back of the house. “Cmon with me into this kitchen,” said Miss Mary. “I’ll get you something to drink while you make your call. It’s a phone right over by that counter.”
The kitchen was almost the size of Ena’s entire house back in Jamaica. She couldn’t imagine that the old lady and her son were the only inhabitants of the oversized house.
“Girl, ain’t nobody finna steal your bag,” laughed Miss Mary. “Set it on down here while you make your call.”
“No thank you, Miss Mary,” Ena responded. She was not sold on the idea of this being a place where she would stay, as she had gotten no signs from either her gut or her father, so she held on to her bag and waited for an opportunity to use her horse legs once again.
“Suit yourself, girl,” continued Miss Mary. I’ll fix you some lemonade, you just go on make your call.
When she reached the edge of the counter, she realized that the phone she’d been told to use was actually a mobile phone plugged into a charger. Perhaps Ena had read one too many mystery books, because she wondered why there wasn’t a regular land line phone in such a large house.
What if they wanted to see the number she called? What if they wanted to call the number to see who it was? What if…”Okay!” Ena blurted out loud to stop her thoughts from taking over and driving her mad.
“Mm-hmph, no drugs, huh?” mumbled Miss Mary under her breath.
“Where is your bathroom, Miss Mary?”
Ena needed time to figure out what to do next. She had not come this far to be found out and shipped back to her district, not to mention breaking Mrs. Playfair’s heart. If she could just keep her mind focused, she felt sure she could figure out the next best step.
“I think you should make that call before you do anything else,” said Miss Mary. “I’m sure your folks is worried. You got folks, don’t you?” The old lady had her suspicions about Ena's real story, and she was usually right.
“Is it over there?” Ena headed out of the kitchen pointing towards the front entrance. She ignored the old lady’s comment and set out to find the bathroom.
The old lady scurried behind Ena and took her arm to lead her in the opposite direction.
“Bathroom’s over here. Have at it, but don’t be wandering off, hear? That’s impolite roun these parts. Just make this left and come right back on into that kitchen when you done. I’ll have you a nice glass of lemonade ready, and some pie if you want it.”
Ena nodded her head and closed the bathroom door as the old lady walked back toward the kitchen. By the looks of the old lady, Ena would’ve never thought that she lived in such a grand house. She always imagined that people who lived in large homes wore fancy earrings, high-heeled shoes, and carried around glasses of iced alcohol all the time. So much for that theory.
Ena leaned against the closed door and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes for a moment, and pictured herself composed and thinking straight. She reminded herself that everything that happened to her since the moment Mrs. Playfair told her about the study abroad project was supposed to happen, and that this instance, in this house, was merely another part of her journey.
Her stomach rumbled loudly and she thought for a moment about going back into the kitchen to get the lemonade and pie she was promised. But as she scouted out the bathroom, she noticed that there was a very low window behind the thick red window treatments.
The bathroom, though small, was beautifully decorated with fancy soaps and the most beautiful sink she’d every seen. There was a row of fancy white face towels hanging to the right of the sink, and the walls donned beautiful art of women’s silhouettes and stunning flowers. She took a mental picture of the décor, as she was sure Kezia could use some of those ideas for her hair salon.
She went over to the window to see if it was functional. It was. She promptly tossed her bag over her head, put her arms through its handles, and climbed out of the window. It wasn’t as close to the ground as she’d gauged, but an expert fence-climber and wall-scaler like Ena had no problems with the height.
She scurried down the wall and kept low as she once again tested her horse legs, heading down the long driveway and towards the large gate. There was a small side gate that opened from the inside, so she quitely opened it, and continued running. Where she was headed was a mystery to her, but she knew that her place was not with the old lady and her son, with his dumb mustache and big stupid hair.
