Kita viciously yanked her disposable mask off as she crossed the parking lot, scouting for her sister. She turned her face skyward, wincing momentarily as the pointed rays of the blazing sun poked her in the eyes. Place hot until. She grimaced to herself and sniffled a little as the lavender body spray riddled along her neck wafted up to her nose. Slowly, she turned to take in the panoramic view of the wide, blue airport splayed out to the East. Things were so different now from what she knew. She could hear the motor on the large Air Canada in the background coming to a slow. She was on home soil again. But now she was bracing for cool Argyle winds instead of the Arnos Vale gusts she remembered.
Six years gone. It had been six years since she set foot on the craft that delivered her to freedom. A small, enclosed vessel meandering on an uncertain path into the unknown. Her grandmother had set it adrift, commissioned her to Canada via Barbados at the time. Granny’s steady words still pulsed through her jet lagged brain.
“Kita yuh haffu go betta yuhself. Go get d Mastas and try fu get permanent residence. Ah so me fren who does wuk ah immigration tell me. Nah try nuh funny ting me na able. Walk straight and narrow. Do the ting properly. When yuh set up good up dey come back fuh ahwe.”
Well up to now me nah send fuh dem. No fault of hers. She was already trying hard to make ends meet and the COVID-19 pandemic did not make things easier. She loved living in Toronto, but it was nothing like how everybody getting on. Things were worse now that day-to-day operation oscillated between house arrest and office shifts. She only went out for groceries and tolerated the bustling swarms of disguised faces downtown Etobicoke to fill the lonely void that waited for her in the apartment. She did not want to lose the nice little actuary job that allowed her to work from home. Not after weaving her way through a challenging Finance degree over the last few years. Granny was the first to proudly announce the fruit of her labour.
“Eh heh me granpickney does wuk a big job now. Am, ah weh she say it name again? Me nah sure ah nuh. Anyway, a supm fuh do wid money.” Granny rehearsed this like an anthem to everybody in New Adelphi long before Kita actually got the job. Kita knew this because all of her Skype calls with her sister started the same way. When she pitched the ah how Granny do? It was met with an eyeroll and some rendition of Granny’s half-true, grandiose tales centring around her granddaughter’s epic achievements and ending with a braggart mantra. Granny always been ah mountain when calls came in, so Kita hardly got a chance to actually speak with her directly and find out how she was really doing. And Granny nah really want nutten to do with the Skype ting either. She say she can’t hut she head wid dem young people ting. She try a thing with the WhatsApp and WhatsApp call but after she kept hanging up by accident, she say she dun wid dat.
Kita loved going to work the land with her grandmother. Yes, she spent most of the few hours together isolated on her self made banana leaf island with her legs drawn tightly up under her chin, but she followed Granny everywhere. Misha had to go man the family owned shop adjoined to their house, so she hardly ever accompanied them. On a Saturday they would wake up just as the sun climbed over the green, sloping hills when the rooster echoed its loudest song and the crickets stopped chirping. Kita would waddle into a pair of Granny’s big water boots and tromp out of the house. Outside the small, agile woman waited with her head tied up, her wiry, strong arms wrapped around a large bucket and a bundled up crocus bag atop her head. They would remain in the bare, dusty yard until Mr. James’ pick-up truck rattled into the neighbourhood and concluded its arrival with three swift ‘toots’.
The old lady would babble with Mr. James all the way to South Rivers, leaving her young granddaughter to submerge herself in the silent wonder of the landscape. Sometimes Kita sat in the back of the truck where she could watch the clouds slither across the pale blue of the sky while the army of trees on either side tried to race them to the North. Other times Granny let her sit by the window where she craned her neck out to see whether the clouds had succeeded in outrunning the trees.
When they arrived in the heart of the emerald paradise, sequestered beside the heights of Soufriere, she would secure her banana leaf throne and watch her grandmother diligently plant, dig up, water, tend to seedlings, arrange items and harvest produce until she was tired of telling old time stories. When Granny grew weary, she would yell.
“Girl! Get up fram dey and come put dem ting here in a box. Me nah bring yuh up here to siddown whole day. Red ants mus bite yo.” Back then, the girl would scramble up as quickly as her skinny, long legs would allow and rush towards Granny to grab whatever she was about to throw. She scampered down an imaginary trail, careful to dodge rocks, seedlings and random debris on her way, barely stopping short of bursting her face. They would corral all the bounty for the day and wait for Mr. James to come pick them up to take them back home.
Kita let out an aggravated sigh at the memory. She also sighed because of the sun. She was growing impatient that Misha had really left her out here to melt in it. Her sister was always late for everything. Even that she missed a little. She was glad to be back home but not under these circumstances. When she had heard that Granny may have contracted COVID-19 her heart clenched in her chest. She begged Misha to make sure that it did not become public knowledge. The last thing their family needed was for mouths to run like water spreading fear, panic and malice. She did not know how her sister discovered Granny’s condition so quickly, but she was glad that she did. She was itching to find out all the details and wanting to see, touch and speak to Granny for herself. She had weighed the consequences in the balances. She would be forced into isolation at home for a while. That, she could live with since her sole purpose was coming to help take care of Granny anyway. Misha made it sound so urgent. Her nose still ached terribly from the test and her perfume and sinuses ensured that she remembered. She wasn’t sure that the negative test she received was triumph enough, especially considering the uncertainty that lay ahead with the elderly woman’s health.
Well watch how Moses basket come straight back ah yaad. She huffed considering that the river of her life still seemed to channel on without destination and security, even with enough money to keep on living. Her freedom was found here, with people she loved, in her treasured homeland, without the suffocating city scape and the daily hyper urban demands. Still she could do without the sunburn. Oh, and the politics, she frowned as two older men passed by locked in a heated discussion about which party to vote for this term and why. Ah weh Misha could dey so long? Sweat trickled down her face, skittered down her long neck and pooled in her bosom. She sucked her teeth loudly, pushing her suitcase to the side so nobody else could almost trip over it, then slung her mask back over her aching nose.
“Nikita!” came a loud high pitched squeal. In the distance she could see a slender figure sashaying towards her. She squinted at the gracefully waving arm, quite certain the gold bangles sliding up and down on it would blind her. That couldn’t be Misha coming, she appeared to be struggling to balance herself in a long, flowing peach dress and her sister’s gait was generally more fluid. Still, there was no denying the empress locs piled high on her regal head so it must be her. As she drew nearer Kita understood why her sister seemed clumsier. Her belly was round and protruding and her face glistened warmly.
“WAIT! So when you been gwine tell me?!” Kita stumbled backwards.
“Six years gone and not a howdy?” Misha made a face she latched onto her little sister before either could remember the rules about keeping a six foot distance or sanitizing. “Yuh come fat eh.”
Kita rolled her eyes, wondering when there would be a national announcement with a new line of greeting to replace that one. “Me been ya stan up forever!”
“Me think yuh woulda sound a likklo more Canadian by now. Just a likkle bit.” Misha smiled wanly. “Sorry to tek so long. Me now come from bayside. They say it good to sap the belly.”
“You sure is not after the baby born you to sap him?” came the sceptical reply.
Misha was thoughtful for a minute but only responded with a small laugh. She was so glad to see her baby sister after such a long time although the reunion came with an unpleasant rationale. She hugged her again. Kita’s face grew a little quizzical. Her big sis was not the emotionally expressive type, although they had been apart for so long. Must be the hormones. She did not know how she could not tell over Skype that Misha was pregnant. She hid it well. Her belly was low, so it was probably a boy if old wives’ tales held truth. Unless it was that she was nearing delivery. Anyway, she would question her sister about that later. For now, she needed to address the matter at hand.
“Me glad tuh see you Mish. Yuh look the same except yuh face fat and is two ah you now instead of one. You coulda tell me I was going to be an auntie.”
“I wanted to surprise you.” Misha crossed her.
“Yeah yuh shock me ello. I’m really happy for you though. No wonder you tell me come. You must be need so much help around the house now especially now that granny not doing so good.”
Misha’s eyebrows knitted and she pursed her lips. “Yea.” she pushed her palms into her back to support it, then locked down. “Me gwine need plenty help in trute.”
“Wa hapm? Me hope nah no wutlis man is d father. He lef yuh? Is who? Tell me so me could box ‘im. Boy granny musbe really vex when she find out. Yuh know she believe in marriage before carriage, boys before books all that.” A little laugh bubbled up in Kita as she remembered Granny’s old quips. Still she knew very well that this great grand child was about to become her favourite of all. Granny moved mountains for her descendants and this one would not be any different. It was only a matter of time before she was laying him down in a basket too and whisking him off to somewhere abroad telling him to go better himself.
Kita noticed Misha’s silence when her own laugh ended its melody and was not met with equal mirth. Misha rubbed her toes on the concrete and shifted her foot back and forth. Kita shrugged. Must be the hormones. Still she chose to smile again at the thought of Granny’s delight with another baby around. “So how Granny do anyway?”
She couldn’t wait to hear what her grandmother had found interest in now. Still she braced herself for the typical she gone ah mountain response, knowing the old woman was going up there to find some cure or usefulness, knowing that Granny would pretend that she was well and strong even when she wasn’t, knowing that Granny can’t keep still on a bed for more than five minutes.
Misha raised her head and looked at her sister squarely in the eyes. Kita thought she could see tears escaping down her sister’s usually nonplussed face. “Nikita,” her voice wobbled. “Granny gone.”
Kita’s face contorted, she listened again, waiting for Misha to finish the sentence with –ah mountain. “Granny gone, Kita. This morning self.”