The Heart Does Not Bend Read Online Free PDF Page B

we went to Olive’s to look for Mama. She wasn’t there. Later we found her in Shady’s Hideaway. She was sitting on a chair, her head slumped on one of the Formica tables.
    Uncle Mikey pulled her to her feet, and with his hand around her waist, we walked her home. Later, as we all huddled together on the living-room couch, Mama began to talk.
    “Mikey, you and Peppie really good to mi, and we go through whole heap together. Ah remember when ah had dat restaurant downtown years before we buy dis place, is you and Peppie helping me. Unnu scrub pot, wipe de floor, carry de heavy meat, de big crocus bags full a green banana and yam. Freddie and Glory was still in Port Maria wid Mammy. Dem never know ’bout dem hardships, for ah mek sure ah send money every month fi dem. De only thing ah couldn’t provide fi any of you was real education, ah never have dat kind a money, and ah needed you two bwoys to help me. Unnu come to town when unnu just turn teenager and unnu never fail me yet …you bwoys help mi and treat mi better dan a husband. Nutten nuh come free or easy especially fi poor people. Unnu father was a wutliss wretch, and a same way Freddie turn out. But old-time people always say when a tree bend from de beginning, it grow twist up, and him just like him father.”
    “Never mind, Mama, don’ think about all dat. We don’t want for anything now. Dat is de past,” my uncle said. His hand travelled across her back and massaged her shoulders. She began to cry, and we both hugged her.
    Much later, in bed, Mama’s hands searched for mine as she began to sing softly, her breath burdened with Wray & Nephew white overproof rum.
    My Bonnie lies over de ocean
,
My Bonnie lies over de sea
,
Oh bring back, oh bring back …
    Mama got up early the next morning. She looked tired, especially her eyes, but neither I nor Uncle Mikey said anything about the night before.
    “Mama, de garden need a little care,” my uncle said, looking through the living-room window.
    “Yes, ah know, ah try keep up wid it, but wid de baking, sometimes mi too tired. Ah will have to get somebody to look after it.”
    “Ask Grand-aunt Ruth nuh, she have ‘nuff people coming in and out of her restaurant.”
    “Yes, dat’s a good idea.” She went to the window, looked out at the garden and said, “Ah miss Freddie, truly, if only fi dat.” My uncle didn’t respond.

    The summer of 1968, when I was eleven, I saw my first restricted movie. Mama never ever missed a Sophia Loren movie, and she was not going to miss
Two Women
when it played in Kingston. We walked to the Ritz Theatre and saw RESTRICTED: 18 YEARS AND OLDER plastered on the billboard right beside Loren’s sultry lips and big breasts. Mama held my hand firmly, looked the cashier straight in the eye and bought our tickets. As usual we took seats in the front row. Before the movie started, Mama nodded at the screen. “Nutten wrong wid seeing dese movies,” she said. “There is good and bad in de world, and yuh have to see both to mek sense of things.”
    The big curtains parted and when Sophia Loren came on the screen there was a hush in the theatre. Her lips weretomato ripe, her body generous, her eyes hungry. We rode with her as she and her young daughter fled on a dirty, overcrowded train from Naples to the countryside. She was shabbily dressed, with bags and bundles on her head, but even in the midst of war, she was beautiful. Her daughter was by her side. For a moment I imagined Mama and me running from war. Sophia Loren looked so strong, she could protect her daughter from everything. Her hips swung just like Mama’s did when she carried the pastries in a cardboard box on her head to the Chinese shops.
    Suddenly Sophia Loren and her daughter were being raped by Nazi soldiers. I wanted to look away but couldn’t. Instead I held tightly to Mama’s hand. I felt the young girl’s fear and panic. Mama held me tight, saying, “Cover yuh face, put yuh head in mi lap.”
    But it