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Curtis walked the two miles to the hospital the following morning. When he arrived, a nurse and a doctor were confering at the nurse's station. He cleared his throat and the nurse turned to him with a smile on her face.
"Are you one of the proud papas come to see your baby?" she asked cheerily.
"Uh, yes. I'm Curtis Carlson. My wife was brought in last night."
"She had a baby girl," the nurse replied, smiling. "You can go see her now," she said, pointing toward the ward in which the proud mothers were housed.
On his way to the ward, the doctor stopped him.
"Er, Mr. Carlson. I'd like to have a word with you before you see your wife."
"Is something wrong with the baby?" Curtis asked, not really interested.
"The baby is well." The doctor cleared his throat. "Your wife had some complications during her delivery. Nothing serious," he quickly assured Curtis. "Tell me, did she have a normal delivery with her first child?"
"First child?" asked Curtis, puzzled. "uh...she was a virgin when we...you know..."
"I see," said the doctor thoughtfully. "From my examination, I noticed some scarring on her uterus."
"Oh," said Curtis, embarrassed. "Maybe when I...when I tried to penetrate..."
"Don't worry," the doctor patted Curtis on his shoulder. "Go and see your beautiful daughter. Your wife will be okay."
The doctor watched Curtis enter the room and shook his head. "She pulled the old Blup's Liniment trick on the unsuspecting fool," he muttered, sighing.
Aileen was sitting up with the baby in her arms nursing her. She smiled when Curtis entered the room. He approached the bed cautiously, his eyes fastened on the tiny, wrinkled bundle in her arms.
"Come, Curtis. Look at her. She's so pretty." She gently pulled her left breast out of the baby's mouth and pushed it inside the neck of her nightgown.
He stared at the sleeping infant. She's a beauty, he thought, admiring the pink, baldheaded, five-pound baby.
"Isn't she the most beautiful baby you've ever seen, Curtis?" she asked, gently prying the baby's hand open with her index finger.
"Yes, she's beautiful. When are you bringing her home?"
"Day after tomorrow."
"Uh...the doctor asked me something about you having a first child. He said you had some complications and that you have some scarring on your..."
"Oh, Curtis," she said, thinking fast. "The scarring is from the first time we did it. Remember how tight it was down there? I was very sore inside the next day."
"That's what I thought. But why would he think that you had a baby before this one?"
"I don't know. Now I need some rest. Come back this afternoon. The baby might be awake then." She wanted to get rid of him before he asked any more questions, and also, the woman in the other bed was trying her best to hear the conversation.
After Curtis left and the nurse took the baby back to the nursery, Aileen sighed. That was a close call, she thought. She hadn't expected to have such a difficult delivery. "That damn doctor is smart," she cursed under her breath. "But he's a doctor, so what did I expect. He knows what caused the scarring." Mentally, she cursed the old woman back home who'd botched up the last abortion she had when she got pregnant for that damn school teacher. She thought he would leave his ugly wife, but he dropped her like a hot potato when she told him that she was carrying his child. She'd gone to the old hag, and whatever the woman had pushed up inside her vagina had made her sick for three weeks. The woman had kept her hidden, feeding her with all kinds of herbal teas until the bleeding stopped. The other abortions had been easy. Maybe she'd had one too many with the last one. She sighed. At least Curtis believed the story about him bruising her inside.
Curtis came with Mr. Roberts late in the afternoon to take her home from the hospital. She was happy to be home with her family.
"Oh, I missed this place," she said, going to and bedroom and placing the baby in the cradle. "I missed you too, Curtis." She hugged him.
"I want to see the baby," he said, drawing away from her.
He stood over the cradle, staring at the sleeping baby. Aileen sighed, placed the suitcase on the table beside the bed and went to the kitchen to prepare supper. Curtis stayed in the bedroom staring at the child. When Aileen called him to eat, he bent and kissed the baby on her lips. When Aileen came to see what was taking him so long, she found him kneeling beside the cradle, staring at the sleeping child.
After supper she nursed the baby and sat on the bed reading a letter from her mother. Her mother wrote that she'd received the wedding photos and had shown them to everyone in the village, and was anxious to get a photo of the baby. Well Mama, you'll get lots of pictures of your grandchild, Aileen thought, smiling.
When Curtis awoke Aileen during the night to nurse the baby, she rubbed her eyes sleepily.
"Did you hear her crying?" she asked, picking up the baby from the cradle. "She's still asleep, Curtis. She's not hungry."
"Feed my daughter!" he commanded. "Are you trying to starve her?"
"Okay, okay," she said, placing her breast in the sleeping baby's mouth.
He paced the floor while she nursed the baby. I want to be close to my daughter all the time, he thought. How am I going to get through the workday knowing that she's in someone else's care, he asked himself silently. The bitch is going back to work in two weeks and his darling daughter will be placed in a Creche.
Aileen held her daughter to her, rubbing her back. "Oh my angel," she whispered. "Mama loves you. She would never make you starve."
The baby burped. Aileen realized that they hadn't even talked about names for the baby and she called Curtis to discuss it.
"Is something wrong with her?" he asked anxiously.
"No." Aileen laughed. "I just wanted to talk to you about a name for her."
He was staring at her swollen, stretch-marked breasts and felt a pang of revulsion. He'd also noticed the same marks on her stomach. He would never touch her again, he vowed. Never!
"What are you staring at?" she asked, putting the baby in the cradle. "We'll be able to make love in about six weeks. Can you wait until then?" She mistook his look for one of lust.
He turned his back to her and went to stare at the sleeping child.
"Curtis, what do you think we should name her? I was thinking of calling her Consouella. Isn't that a nce name?"
He turned to face her. "I think it's a stupid name," he replied, scornfully.
"Well, do you have a name for her?"
"Her name is Pearl."
"Pearl? It's such an ordinary name," she said, wrinkling her brow.
He took a menacing step toward her. "Don't you ever say that my daughter's name is ordinary again, understand? Her name is Pearl and that's final."
She backed away and he want to kneel at the side of the cradle tucking the edge of the blanket around the child.
Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, tears streaming down her face she wondered why her husband was acting in such a strange manner. She loved him, but not with the same kind of passion she'd loved the star Cricketer, Phillip, back in her village.
She'd been in love with Phillip since she was fourteen years old and he sixteen. They attended the same school, lived in the same neighborhood and took the same route, a dirt road with banana trees flanking both sides of the road, to and from school. One afternoon, on the way home from school, she walked behind him, her eyes glued to his back. When he turned around and saw her watching him, he said something to his two friends and his friends ran off. He beckoned to her, and, head bowed, she walked over to where he was standing. He had a smile on his face, but she was tongue-tied.
"What's your name?" he asked, when she was standing in front of him.
"Aileen," she whispered.
"Come, Aileen," he said, walking toward a cluster of banana trees.
Heart pounding, she'd followed him and they'd made love. She'd cried out in pain when he entered her, but the pain had subsided after a while. When it was over, she'd gone to a nearby river and washed the blood off. They'd continued meeting after school every afternoon and on Sundays, after Sunday school. He ignored her in school, but when they were in the banana patch, he was all over her. She'd thought that he was in love with her, but when he got his School Leaving Certificate he got engaged to a policeman's daughter. He would still meet her in the banana patch as "Miss hoity toity, policeman's daughter" was a virgin and saving herself for her wedding night. When she became pregnant he told her that he was not the father and she'd gone to the old woman in the village to get rid of the fetus. He married "Miss hoity toity" after she graduated from Mona University in Jamaica. Aileen sighed, remembering how crushed she had been. She'd started sleeping around, and after her last abortion she'd packed a suitcase and moved to Roseau. She sighed again, and turned to look at her husband. He was hovering over the baby's cradle. She wished he would come to bed. She couldn't understand why he was acting so strange, accusing her of trying to starve the baby. She would have to learn to cope with his mood swings, as she wanted to stay married. She fell asleep thinking about the happy home she was going to raise her baby in.
When Pearl was two weeks old she told Curtis that it was time to christen her.
"No!" he shouted. "No christening for my daughter."
"But Curtis, I'm a Catholic. Our daughter must be christened."
He glared at her. "She's not and that's final," he said, turning his back to her.
One Monday morning after Curtis left for work, Aileen took the baby to the same church where she and Curtis were married, and begged the priest to give her baby the sacrament of baptism. The priest sensed her desperation and performed the ceremony. She breathed a sigh of relief; thanked him and hurried back home.
"My precious baby," she whispered, taking off the tiny, white christening gown. "Your daddy will never know that you received the blessing of baptism. I love you, Pearl Consouella Carlson." She took the baptismal certificate out of her skirt pocket and hid it at the bottom of her suitcase.
She was heartbroken when she dropped Pearl off at the Creche when she returned to work two weeks later. The Creche was about two blocks from Madam Seymour's store, and after work she was the first parent to arrive. Pearl was plump and always smiling. Her golden-brown hair grew in abundance on her small head. Curtis was overprotective. If she did not have to nurse Pearl, she had a feeling that Curtis would not let her near the child. She was glad that he got off work at 6:00 P.M., as that gave her a little extra time with her daughter. He would rush straight to Pearl's cradle as soon as he entered the house.
One night, Aileen came out of the bathroom and caught Curtis fondling Pearl's small breasts. She rushed to the cradle and pushed his hand away. He called her a bitch and pushed her out of the room and locked the door. She pounded on the door, demanding that he open the door at once or she would scream. He opened the door, glaring at her with hatred.
He still hadn't make love to her three months after Pearl was born. One Friday night she decided to make the first move. His back was to her as usual. She snuggled up to him and felt him stiffen. She put her hand inside his elastic waist pajama bottom and fondled his tolli. He sat up and pushed her away from him. She sat up, angry with him for rejecting her.
"Curtis Carlson, I'm your wife and I want you to make love to me. It's three months since Pearl's birth and you've not even shown the slightest interest in making love to me."
He leapt off the bed, furious. "I'm going to tell you this only once. Don't you ever, ever put your hands on me again. I do not want to make love to you now or ever. You're ugly and disgusting." He turned his back to her and went to kneel by the cradle.
She stared at his back, speechless, and her body went cold all over. She pulled the blanket up to her neck trying to get some warmth. The baby whimpered.
"See to Pearl," he snapped. "Now!"
read an excerpt from the sequal, "A Caribbean Story of Hurt, Horror and Healing"
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