Talent Show

One

The children all knew her as mother, disciplinarian, the voice of authority, the person they’d have to deal with after breaking a rule or doing something stupid. They used her as a defence—‘I’ll tell Mum’; protected each other from her—‘Mum’s coming!’; reminded each other of the force of her rules, ‘You’ll be in trouble with Mum’. They knew her thunderous look, her strong voice, the painful price of disobeying her.

As they grew up, like all children, they sensed her weaknesses and used them to their advantage. They tested her and came to know that she was fallible and just another human inhabiting the earth and working her way through life. Still, old habits die hard, and somewhere in them there was always a need to obey and respect her, even after they were men and women.

But I know her as my Suzy. I knew a version of her that existed before the children came along. I knew her as a buxom 16-year-old, with a ready smile and a laugh that could raise the dead. I knew her when. I knew a person they never knew, who ceased to exist when she became a mother, and whom I only glimpsed occasionally once she gave birth to the first of our children.

With the birth of each child, she became a new person, further removed from that 16-year-old that I first met. With each birth, she became more serious, more industrious, more anxious, more overwhelmed, more tired. But I still saw my Suzanna occasionally, and told myself that one day, when the children were all adults, all married or off in the world on their own, the old Suzanna would emerge, as an older version of the Suzanna I met on that unforgettable day, because that was who she was at the core of her being.

We met at a daytime church dance. I was not Catholic, but Jules, a young man I worked with, was, and had sold me a ticket and insisted that I attend. It was not being held in the capital where I lived, but in one of the outskirts to the east, one I did not know, with a different side of the mountains as its backdrop. I had not been there much before, so he met me when I came off the train at a nearby stop and we walked to the church dance. My sister had laughed at me when I was getting dressed and told her where I was going.

"Watch yourself. Those Cathos are very strict, especially with their daughters. Keep your hands in your pockets and to yourself. Besides, that is cocoa pañol territory. They are the most devout of all Cathos. Real poteau 1’eglise. They do not like people from outside their circle. Especially Anglos from town."

Her words had made me nervous, but when we entered the church yard, the colourful decorations, the pretty young ladies, the music and the laughter in the air made me relax. Jules introduced me to a few families who were sitting together. Some people were dancing to music that was not entirely familiar to me.

Some of the music was parang, traditional Christmas music sung in Spanish, which I knew well, but some of it was not the traditional parang, although it was still in something that seemed to be Spanish. I was not a great dancer anyway and was going to get a drink when I bumped into a young woman accompanied by another young woman, whom I later learnt was her sister. It was her fault that she bumped into me and she wasted no time in apologising with a laugh.

Sorry. I was not looking where I was going. My father always says that I will walk into a lamp post one day!

Then she laughed. It was just a short laugh, and one that, in comparison to others I would hear during our lives together, was gentle and polite. Still, it captivated me, as did her face. Her skin was light brown, unblemished and looked soft. I wanted to touch her face but that would not have been correct, even among Anglos from town.

Her hair was pinned up at the back, but I could tell that it was long, with a curl in it, and silky. Her facial features told me she had some Carib blood in her. I introduced myself and we shook hands. She said nothing more and just smiled.

Her sister then spoke.

I’m Emilia. This is my younger sister, Suzanna. We are sitting at that table with our cousins and our parents. Come over to say hello, if you like, and maybe you could even dance with one or two of the girls if you ask permission from her father first.

As she pointed to the table, I looked over and saw a group pf about 20 to 30 people. Parents and young girls, with only a few young men in between. I was daunted by the number of people I would have to speak to if I wanted to dance with Suzanna, but I knew I had to do it. I was already sailing down that river of no return where she would become the centre of my life.

I smiled and said I would come over in a little while. As they walked away, I could see them whispering to each other and looking back at me, smiling. I had made an impression too.

I desperately sought out Jules. I needed his advice on how to do this and for him to come with me. My chances of succeeding would be better if two young men approached that fortress of a table and if one of them was already known. He gasped when I pointed to the table.

"Mr Carrillo! Papa Carlos! He is a terror and hates people from town, especially Anglos. His wife, Maria Luisa, is a nice woman and her sisters are nice too. But he is difficult. You sure about this?"

My reaction was to smile and nod my head enthusiastically. He shook his and continued, Okay then. Give it half an hour because it wouldn’t look good to go right away. I will coach you on what to say and how to ask for a dance. I will go with you, otherwise they wouldn’t even look at you.

I am not sure you could ask to dance with a particular young woman, it would have to be with one of the daughters, and he has five. The decision will be his.

He looked up to the sky as he tried to account for the status of each daughter, counting them off on his fingers, so that we’d know the odds of getting to dance with Suzanna.

One is already engaged to Mr Bermudez’ son, Jaime. She is Emilia, so when she goes to dance with him, we could approach and hope to get to dance with Suzanna. If I get her and you get one of the other sisters, Beatriz, Carolina or Magaly, we could swap half-way through the dance.

"Carolina is kind of young to dance with you anyway, so she would not even be considered. I think we could get a dance with Suzanna with a little luck. But, Eddie, tell me again, you sure you don’t want to dance with another girl with an easier family? Those Carrillo and Perez families are seriously cocoa pañol. They don’t allow relationships with outsiders too easily."

"Mrs Carrillo was a Perez and she has three sisters. All of them are either married to cocoa pañoles or to people connected to cocoa pañoles. Same story with their children."

I assured him that I only had eyes for Suzanna, and he shrugged and agreed to wait with me on the right time to approach the table with our request. I thought about what he had said. I had not known any true cocoa pañoles before, apart from Jules. They were the descendants of the Spanish cocoa planters, and some had married browns and half browns, giving them beautiful skin tones and facial features.

Some also had Carib blood in them, and most lived in the east of the island where the old capital, San José, was located. At that time, they still had their own customs and lifestyle, and although I knew vaguely of them, on that day I realised that they proudly saw themselves as superior to others from our island and were a tight, closely-knit group. I also realised that in the east they were seen to be entitled to that superiority and given due respect for their heritage.

It was late November and approaching Christmas, the parang was sung with great vigour to the accompaniment of quatros, guitars, box bass and shak-shaks. Other songs in Spanish were sung and seemed to be known favourites. When the first few chords were struck, the crowd reacted with enthusiasm and chairs were abandoned carelessly as people rushed to the dance floor.

They also played the Castilian waltz, known locally as Castillan (cas-tee-yan). It was tricky to dance to this and I was not a great dancer, but that never entered my head until I hit the dance floor with Magaly and fumbled the first two steps. She reacted immediately.

"I could see you never dance Castillan before, so follow my lead. I will keep it simple."

Luckily, Suzanna had been chosen to dance with Jules, so my embarrassing fumble was not with her. Even so, she could tell that I was not familiar with the dance and as we passed them on the dance floor, she called out to her sister.

"Teach the Anglo the Castillan, Mags, or let me teach him. Ehd-mweh." And with that Jules took Magaly by twirling Suzanna over to me. I do not remember the dance too well after that. I think I managed reasonably but was really led by Suzanna. I asked her what her last words to her sister meant. I could tell they were in patois, the French-based creole language spoken widely in Trinidad at that time.

I don’t know why, but I was surprised to hear her speak it. In town, it was spoken and understood widely, as it was once the dominant language of the country, but it wasn’t spoken by my family in our home, not beyond simple expressions anyway. She explained that her maternal grandmother was from Martinique and had marred a cocoa pañol. She had spoken the language to them as had their mother.

She translated her words as ‘help me’. When I asked what that meant, she explained that she wanted to dance with me and had told all of her sisters this when she returned to the table after our encounter.

It was a bold admission for a young woman of that era, and it made my head spin. I enjoyed the event tremendously after that as I danced with her a few more times. On many a night, after we were married, and lay in bed in each other’s arms, I would recall the feeling that her words brought to my heart.

I would remember the music and the smell in the air and my heart would sing all over again. The memory of that evening was one of the sweetest of my life.

I danced with two of her sisters as well, as I had to. It would have been improper for me to dance only with her, and not only because I was a newcomer to that life and an Anglo from town, but because I had just met her, and things went slowly in those days. Her sisters were polite to me, but I could tell I was being assessed.

My own background was modest, non-Catholic and Anglo. We had no French creole in us at all. My mother was a seamstress and my father worked in an insurance company as a marine surveyor. We regularly consumed rejected tins of corned beef and other canned goods when they were damaged en route to Port-of-Spain. They were given to my father when they were written off.

I worked from the age of 16, as did all of my brothers. When I met Suzanna I was 24, and worked in a large grocery keeping a record of the stock, sometimes packing it in the warehouse section if need be, and preparing orders to re-stock or to send out to smaller groceries and community shops.

After the dance, I made Jules walk with me to the Carrillo house so that I would know where to find Suzanna to start our courtship. I was euphoric and determined. My friend looked at me sceptically.

"I tell you. Papa Carlos is a monster with his girls. You would have to see her with her sisters or her mother, if he decides to allow it. You could handle that? No hand-holding or kissing for about a year. Besides you are not a cocoa pañol. You from town! And you’re an Anglo! You sure you don’t have any French creole in you? That could help you."

I didn’t and laughed and told him I was smitten and that Suzanna seemed to like me. A man in my position thought he could overcome all obstacles. I was fascinated with Suzanna and determined to court her, strictly following whatever rules her father and family laid down. I was up to the task.

Two weeks later, I went to the house on a Saturday afternoon. It was about 3 o’clock. I dragged Jules along with me. He was uneasy and it showed. He pulled the string on the heavy, iron bell at the gate of the house. It was a large house and I guessed there must have been at least 4 bedrooms.

There was a big yard and a garden with fruit trees at the side. Mr Carrillo was asleep in a hammock under one of them when we arrived. He awoke suddenly and rolled out of the hammock when we rang the bell, then walked towards us, peering at us as if trying to recognise us.

"Valdez, your father know you here with this Anglo?" He addressed my friend who smiled and nodded.

"So, what all yuh want? Is my daughters you all come to see. I know the Anglo like Suzy. I saw that at the church dance."

I am Eddie Roberts, Mr Carrillo. We met at the dance when I asked to dance with one of your daughters. I held out my hand as I spoke. He hesitated and then shook it, while looking me in the eye.

So which daughters you all come to see? Suzy and who?

I came to see Suzy, Mr Carrillo, and my friend is here to show respect. Any one or two of your other daughters that you want to let us spend time with, it would be an honour.

He screwed up his face. "An honour? Why you trying so hard, Anglo? You not going to get any of my daughters pregnant, you hear? Where you working? How old are you? You look like a big, hard-backed man."

"I work with Jules at MacIntosh, the big grocery in town. I am a stock clerk and hope to be stock manager one day. I am 24 years old, Sir, and I do not intend any monkey business with your daughters. I just want to spend time with Suzy and her sisters."

Carlos Carrillo did not speak for a while. He seemed to be thinking about what I had said and deciding whether I should be taken seriously. He cleared his throat before he spoke.

Wait in the verandah and I will call the girls.

Jules and I went to the verandah. Maria Luisa, Suzy’s mother, brought us a glass of sorrel, announcing that it was the Christmas season and all visitors must have some sorrel or ginger beer. We sipped the delicious red drink and waited about 20 minutes before Suzy and two of her sisters, Beatriz and Magaly, came out.

Carolina was very timid and bookish, I later learnt, and in any event was the youngest, so would hardly have been allowed to come out to converse with two young men. The girls were giggling nervously and sat together on a sofa opposite Jules and I. At first, I had sat on the sofa, but Jules had told me to leave that for the girls. I could not sit next to any of them on a first visit.

I don’t remember all of the conversation. It may have been about Christmas and making pastelles, the cocoa pañol delicacy made in Trinidad at Christmas from corn and filled with ground meat. It was delicious.

I remember Suzy being identified as the best pastelle and Christmas cake maker in the family. She blushed and denied it unconvincingly. It was clear that she enjoyed the kitchen but was modest about her talent.

We chatted for about an hour and then took our leave, not so much because we wanted to, but because Mrs Carrillo came out and cleared the glasses and told the girls they had to come back into the house. Suzy’s mother’s aunt, Ovita, sat in a rocking chair just inside the house and after an hour, began clearing her throat repeatedly until Mrs Carrillo came out to sweetly bid us goodbye.

I learnt in that hour that Suzy went to a private Catholic school in town and took the train home sometimes with her younger sisters, Magaly and Carolina. Her eldest sister, Emilia, had already finished school and was engaged to be married. Beatriz was older than Suzy and had also finished school just that year. She wanted to be a teacher.

When Suzy and her younger sisters did not take the train home, they were picked up by her father in his car. I knew the school by its uniform and had seen young girls wearing it heading for the train station to Balleja, a stone’s throw away from Suzy’s house, where I had met Jules when I went to the dance. I made a mental note to work through lunch to take a break in the afternoon at the time that Suzy might have been passing through town.

It was a gamble because she said that she never knew when she would be taking the train until her father announced it the day before or even in the morning when she was leaving for school.

Two

I came to know Suzy slowly and patiently. Carlos Carrillo did not like me and that never changed. I suspected he did not like himself and generally went through life with hate in his heart. He was a harsh, uneducated man and I read a lot and even hoped to be a lawyer’s clerk one day. He scoffed at that, telling me that lawyers were sinners.

He was a devout Catholic but as time went on, I heard that he had a weakness for gambling and women. Still, he did not see himself as a sinner and considered himself superior to others. His wife was a saintly woman who smiled a lot, but whose pain was evident. Her eyes were sad, even when she smiled.

I would see Suzy sometimes when she was heading to the train station after school and we would talk briefly. It was not correct for me to have prolonged conversations with a young lady in the absence of a proper chaperone, even if her sisters were present. I continued to visit her at home every weekend. Jules stopped coming with me after a few months and I would visit with Suzy and two of her sisters.

Ovita died at some point during that year, so our discreet chaperone was no longer available. Once or twice we were allowed to go to a church fair together with her elder sisters and her brother, or for a walk down the road. Many of her relatives lived on that road so we would have eyes on us all the way. It didn’t bother me.

I grew fonder and fonder of Suzy and did my best to make her laugh so that I could marvel at the sound of it. It was not a lady-like laugh at all, but a sort of high-pithed screech. Yet it was music to my ears.

At Carnival, the most lively and beloved season in Trinidad, we were not allowed to go out together at all. There were many dances and shows in the weeks leading up to the two-day street parade, but I went to none that year because Suzy could not go. I did go to town with my brothers on J’ouvert morning, when Carnival officially began at 4 o’clock, as I usually did.

It was a time of great release of inhibition and it was not unusual to see high-ranking members of society and the most serious people surrendering to the spell of the season. On that day, I saw Carlos Carrillo, drunk and half-naked. He was hugging a buxom woman that I’d seen around town. He pretended not to see me, but I knew he had. I never told Suzy or any of her sisters.

I told Jules and he told me that Carlos Carrillo was well known for his womanising. I could not bear his hypocrisy but could do nothing about it. I continued to call him ‘Sir’ and abide by his rules but sensed that Suzy wanted very much to defy him. Within me a slow disgust was growing for him, and I understood her defiance, but I had to keep my eyes on the prize—Suzy. I wanted a life with her and had to tolerate Carlos.

The year passed and we continued to see each other on weekends and in town, but always under the watchful eyes of the parents or sisters. I sensed that I was slowly gaining the trust of Carlos and Maria Luisa, although trust might have been a strong word for what I gained with Carlos. He seemed to think that all men were like him and hid an ugly monster beneath the surface, which would emerge sooner or later.

Suzy’s sisters seemed to like me. I knew that many ladies thought I was very handsome with my blue eyes and my height, and I think they did too. One day, we had all gone to the river with her cousins. For once, there were no real chaperones following us all the way. Suzy and I, together with her sister, Emilia, and Emilia’s fiancé, Jaime, went off to one end, away from the others, and I kissed Suzy.

She was quite eager and kissed me back enthusiastically. She told me that she had wanted to kiss me for a long time but thought I was shy. I told her that I was and also did not want to spoil things with her father and wanted to be accepted by him. She laughed.

"Accepted? Papa does not accept Anglos and people who are not Catholics. Worse yet if you come from town and have no French creole in you. He will not accept you so just know that. He barely accepts people that he knows!"

I was quite discouraged after she said that. How could I get anywhere with that approach from Suzy’s father? I began to think of ways around him and to deliberately create opportunities to be away from his scrutiny. I did not see the point of trying to achieve the impossible. All along I thought that I was working my way in, but the door was closed.

One day after about 18 months of visiting and sometimes sneaking off with Suzy, we went further than we had ever gone before. She was not ashamed of it and told me how much she loved it and me. I felt that we were both trying to find a way to be together, and looking back, I now see that we were using the possibility of pregnancy to force Carlos to accept me.

Suzy had left school by then, but was not interested in any occupation allowed to young women. She did not want to be a teacher or a nurse. She did not want to work in the office of the small family cocoa estate as she did not want to be anywhere near her father. She played the piano, and was good enough at it to give a few lessons to younger cousins.

She played at church concerts sometimes and also sewed very well and knitted. Her talents in the kitchen were known in the community and she often baked cakes for friends and family and for church fairs. She was a talented young woman waiting for a husband. That’s how it was in those days.

Her brother, Miguel, also played the piano. He was actually quite gifted as a musician, but his father insisted he work in the family business on the small cocoa estate near to the family house. He did as his father wished, but spent a few evenings a week in town at a club where he played with a trio of musicians. He was the eldest child and the only boy and was quite defiant of Carlos.

He would occasionally swing by MacIntosh when he came to town on a business errand, and we would chat briefly. He liked me and encouraged me to ignore his father, whose exploits seemed to be known to him, although we never spoke directly about them.

I had more success at being accepted by Maria Luisa, Suzy’s mother, who allowed me to call her Marlu after a while, a name used only by the family. She told me one day that I would have to convert to Catholicism if I saw a future with Suzy. Carlos remained aloof and judgmental. My family was