Josephine Against the Sea Read online

  Uh-oh. Who knew it was possible to look seductive while covered in fish guts?

  Mariss pats the top of my head. “Don’t worry, Josie Sweets, your daddy and I forgive you, right, Vincey?”

  Josie Sweets?! Vincey?!

  Daddy gulps and nods, mesmerized by Mariss.

  I have to put an end to this right now. “Sorry that you have to go home to change, Mariss,” I say, already heading to the door.

  “Oh, I’m sure your daddy has a shirt or something I can wear,” she replies. She lifts her leg even higher and pulls a fish bone from the material.

  Daddy snaps out of the trance. “I—I—I, yeah yeah, uh … upstairs, uh, bedroom. Josephine, clean up this mess!”

  Daddy disappears around the corner to go upstairs, and Mariss moves to follow him.

  Over my dead body. Daddy’s about to be too busy with cricket to care about dating. I’m not going to let this woman ruin my plans at the last minute.

  I lean against the fridge and stick my foot out to the wall, creating a human barrier gate in the kitchen.

  Mariss raises an eyebrow. It’s so strange. A raised eyebrow usually causes a wrinkle around the eye, or even in the forehead, but Mariss’s face is smooth like new Plasticine.

  “Sorry, no entry.” I dare her to challenge me.

  But Mariss smiles and leans against the kitchen counter, moving her hand up and down along the wall, as if she is a handyman checking for cracks.

  “You don’t like me, nuh?” she says, running her tongue across her bottom lip.

  “No,” I reply, deciding to get straight to the point. “Leave my daddy alone.”

  Mariss makes a “tsk” noise. “I sense your father is a special man, Josie Sweets. I don’t blame you for being overprotective, but you can trust me. I won’t hurt him.” She bites on her top lip. Is she thirsty or something?

  “Don’t you have lip balm?” I ask. It’s a little disturbing to speak to someone who is licking their mouth every second.

  “Oh, I have a gift for you!” Mariss opens a black case on the counter. I can’t help but be intrigued. It’s my natural response to the word “gift.”

  She takes out a necklace made of transparent and silver beads that reflect a blue undertone, with a small, brass spiral pendant. I move my barrier foot to get closer to it. Light catches on the beads, making them sparkle like stars.

  “You’ll have to take really good care of it.” Mariss steps toward me, the necklace hanging from her middle finger. “Like I’ll take care of your father.”

  I pull my eyes away from the necklace. “You think you can bribe me with a piece of cheap jewelry?”

  Mariss doesn’t seem bothered by my insult. If anything, she smiles even bigger. “Not a bribe. A gift,” she says, gently resting the necklace back in the case. “But I’ll keep it safe till you change your mind.”

  “I never change anything!” I respond, frustrated by her calm, confident demeanor.

  Mariss bends down until we’re at the same height. Her deep brown eyes shimmer like they’re filled with an ocean of tears. The sound of the sea crashes through my brain, like someone has put a conch shell by my ears. I can almost feel the waves caressing my insides, flowing through my body and washing all my fears away. I am so light, so light that I could float up into the sky and swim in the clouds. Suddenly, I feel choked up, like I want … to cry.

  I blink, then squeeze my eyes shut until the feeling has passed. What is happening? When I open my eyes, Mariss is so close that if I flared my nostrils, the tips of our noses would touch. I take a step back.

  Mariss straightens her shoulders and smirks at me. “You will.”

  “Look ’ere.” Neither of us heard Daddy coming down the stairs. He holds out a light blue material with a floral pattern. I’ve never seen this shirt—wait—what?

  Mum.

  That’s one of Mum’s dresses.

  “Oh, isn’t this lovely!” Mariss sashays over to Daddy and drapes the dress over her arm.

  I cannot fathom someone else’s skin touching Mum’s clothes. I am numb, trying to process the information, trying to understand Daddy’s betrayal.

  “It belong to my … my …” Daddy swallows and looks at the ground. “My late wife.”

  What is happening?! It’s like I’m in a horror movie, right at that moment when the monster reveals itself and is baring its pointed teeth at its prey.

  “Well, she had wonderful taste,” says Mariss. But she’s not looking at the dress; she’s looking at my daddy … and my daddy’s eyes are fixed on her.

  “I’ll make sure to wash it and bring it back for you.”

  “No, you keep it,” Dad replies to Mariss with a sad smile.

  “I’ll give you some money for—”

  “Absolutely not!” Daddy exclaims, cutting her off. “You don’t ’ave to give me anything. It’s a gift.”

  “A gift for me?” Mariss says in a confused, soft voice, as if no one in the world has ever thought to give her a present before. They both inch closer to each other. It’s like they’ve forgotten I’m in the room.

  I drag the stool across the kitchen boards and the screechy noise jolts them back to reality. Mariss winces and covers her ears.

  My backpack rocks on the stool and falls to the ground. The cricket permission slip flies out of the bag.

  “What’s this?” Daddy asks, picking it up.

  “Um, we can talk about it later. It’s”—I glance at Mariss—“personal.”

  “Oh, let me get you some privacy,” Mariss says, and hurries to the door.

  Finally.

  Mariss closes the side door—with herself inside! All I can do is stare and blink as she locks the door and struts back over to me and Daddy.

  “Bean, I ain’ sure,” Daddy says as he reads the letter. “Remember you ’urt yourself last time.”

  A pang of worry shoots through me; it never occurred to me that Daddy wouldn’t sign the paper.

  “Daddy, I’ll be careful, I promise!” I cry. I hold on to his arm and look at him with wide eyes. “You should have seen me at cricket tryouts. I was the best bowler there!”

  He sighs and runs his hand down my cornrows. Got ’im! I can already see Daddy waving from the cricket stands.

  “Cricket!” Mariss exclaims, then makes her “tsk” noise again. “I was wondering how you got these.”

  Mariss lifts my elbows with soft hands, revealing the scrapes underneath. I rubbed the ointment on them this morning but they look much worse than they feel, with the skin an angry purple and pus forming around the edges.

  “Cheese on bread!” Daddy holds his head, then runs his hands down his face. The scrapes might as well be stab wounds.

  I try to pull away from Mariss’s touch, but then I feel the weirdest sensation. Like if lightning and ice water were flowing through my blood at the same time. Hot then cold. Cold then hot. Then, a sense of satisfaction, like I’ve just finished eating a tasty meal.

  Mariss lets go of my elbows. I shake my head, trying to regain focus.

  I stare at her and tilt my head to the side. But she interprets my look as an invitation to give her opinion.

  “All sports are dangerous,” Mariss chimes in. “There aren’t many games where someone doesn’t get hurt.” She looks into the distance, and then a light bulb seems to go off in her head. “How about joining a choir? Do you like to sing?”

  Daddy folds the permission slip and puts it into the kitchen drawer—the same drawer he puts random things he has no use for, but doesn’t want to throw away.

  “Bean, you soon off to secondary school. I sure it will ’ave a girls’ cricket team. Best you wait till then.”

  I sag against the counter. Right now, Daddy and I were supposed to be celebrating and making cricket plans together. It all turned out so wrong, but I just can’t give up, I can’t.

  “But, Daddy—”

  “Where’s your bathroom?” Mariss interrupts me. “I want to change into this gorgeous dress.”


  She holds on to his arm, and Daddy guides her up the stairs like she’s just had knee-replacement surgery. Mariss looks over her shoulder and winks at me.

  I’m so angry I could burst into flames.

  Ding! The match has begun.

  This means war.

  “Come in, Alpha Mike. What’s the status? Over.”

  Ahkai answers right away.

  “This is Alpha Mike. Alpha Mike. Alpha Mike. Alpha Mike. Alpha Mike. The item will be secured in T-minus five minutes, ten seconds after the parental unit exits the lavatory. Over.”

  I peek through my bedroom window for any sign of Mariss. Daddy said she would be here by six when he sat me down to deliver the “be on your best behavior” lecture.

  The weather is bizarre today. At this time of year, the sun would be under the horizon, but right now, it’s burning hot and bright, and large raindrops beat down on the roof. They say—and when I say “they” I mean Miss Mo—that this means the devil and his wife are fighting over the cou-cou stick.

  The doorbell rings.

  Right on time. I rush downstairs to greet her.

  Operation Sticky Buns is my greatest masterpiece. I’m 150 percent confident it will get rid of Mariss, once and for all. Daddy may be a little disappointed, but it’s best to get her out of his life so he can focus on cricket.

  Even though it’s warm outside, she’s wearing a long-sleeved white-and-red pantsuit, looking like a piece of Christmas candy cane. There’s a brass spiral pendant hanging from her neck. It’s almost identical to the one she tried to give me, but these spirals are thicker.

  “Sisi!” Daddy exclaims, and hugs her.

  Great, now she has a pet name too.

  I swallow my irritation and beam at her. “Hi, Mariss! Hope you are well!” Daddy looks at me with suspicion.

  “Hello, Josie Sweets!” She leans over to kiss me, and I get a whiff of her perfume. I can’t figure out the smell, but it reminds me of sea spray and sand.

  “Want some guava-pineapple juice?” I ask, turning to go into the kitchen.

  “That sounds amazing!” exclaims Mariss, as if she’s never tasted juice before.

  “Oh no, I’ll get it!” Daddy guides me to the dining table and forces me to sit. “Do not move from this chair,” he whispers into my ear.

  He turns to Mariss. “We also ’ave passion fruit juice and lemonade. Which one you want?”

  Mariss gives him a mischievous smile. “You.”

  I suck my teeth in disgust, especially after Daddy grins like a schoolboy with a new marble. He brings me a cup of juice and gives me the “yuh better behave yourself” look, then heads into the kitchen with Mariss.

  There is a quick sequence of five knocks on the back door, and Ahkai marches inside like a soldier. He stares straight ahead, not looking at me, but flashes a small plastic bottle in my direction.

  Everything is going to plan …

  For all the years I’ve been over at Miss Mo’s, I’ve seen them run out of milk, sugar, eggs, even toilet paper, but there are always Epsom salts in that house. Miss Mo believes the white crystals can cure everything from cold, flu, headache, giant African snail infestations, spiritual attacks, acne, to everything! But if you eat them, well, all I’ll say is that one of Ahkai’s younger cousins once shoved a handful of the crystals into his mouth and a few minutes later, we heard terrible noises coming from the bathroom.

  I eye the guava-pineapple juice in Mariss’s hand and smile. There is a tube of superglue in my jeans pocket. As soon as Ahkai gives the cue, I’ll go and line the toilet seat with the sticky liquid. Mariss wants to be part of the family? I’ll make sure she sticks around long enough for Daddy to hear those awful noises coming from her. She’ll be too humiliated to look him in the face ever again.

  I do my evil laugh under my breath.

  Daddy brushes something away on Mariss’s cheek. She holds his hand and kisses the back of it.

  There’s no time to lose.

  Ahkai is still standing by the door, staring straight ahead. I give a sharp nod and he marches toward the kitchen.

  “What gine on, son?” Daddy says to Ahkai, even though he never answers. “This is my, uh, friend, Mariss. Mariss, this is Ahkai. ’E’s the strong, silent type.” Daddy turns to stir the pot on the stove.

  “Looka you. Aren’t you a cutie!” Mariss goes over to Ahkai and puts her juice down on the bar near him. She gives him a big hug, crushing his face under her bosom.

  I can’t see Ahkai’s expression, but his body loses the army stiffness, and his right hand starts to shake.

  All he has to do is sprinkle the salts into the cup. No one is looking! Ahkai’s hand inches toward the glass. I am so nervous I start gulping down my juice. Just a little farther! Then Ahkai pauses, and he lifts his hand in the air. This is the moment! This is it!

  Ahkai puts his hand around Mariss’s back and nestles into her embrace.

  I almost spit out my drink.

  This can’t be happening.

  Mariss gives Ahkai one last squeeze, and then turns to Daddy. “I don’t like this microwave thing at all, Vincey. I like to see the fire under my food.”

  “You and my mother would get along,” Daddy replies with a chuckle.

  Mariss pinches Daddy’s chin. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

  Ahkai, with his face shiny and eyes bright, at least has the decency to look ashamed. He walks over to the dining table with bent shoulders and sits next to me.

  I am furious. “Gimme the package,” I hiss.

  Ahkai shakes his head.

  I reach under the table and pry the bottle from his hands. It falls onto the ground and rolls under the TV stand.

  I leap from the table.

  “Miss Josephine …” Daddy warns from the kitchen. He’s pouring water into a large jug of ice. Mariss is on her way with the big pot of daddy’s famous fish soup, made with coconut milk, sweet potatoes, and dumplings. I smell the aroma of garlic, basil, and fresh rosemary.

  “I forgot to feed Mr. Pimples.” I get the fish food and take my time shaking the flakes into the tank. Mariss puts the hot broth on the table and scoops a portion out for Ahkai.

  Daddy is staring at me so I can’t reach for the bottle. Mr. Pimples swims to the top of the water, gulping down the food, surprised at the rare treat of being fed twice in one day.

  Mariss puts out a serving of soup for Daddy. That’s my job! She doesn’t know he likes as many pieces of sweet potato that can fit into the bowl, and one single dumpling.

  Maybe I make a noise because Mariss looks across at me, pursing her lips. She comes over to the tank and peers at Mr. Pimples.

  “What an interesting-looking specimen,” she says. Mr. Pimples stops eating and hides inside the miniature sunken ship. “Beautiful, but she’s so lonely.”

  “Mr. Pimples is not a she!” I protest, but in truth I have no idea how to tell the difference between male and female angelfish. It never occurred to me that Mr. Pimples could actually be Miss Pimples.

  “Poor thing is desperate for a mate,” Mariss says, ignoring my outburst and tapping the glass.

  “I am not getting another fish,” I declare, making sure I enunciate every word. Who does she think she is, coming into my house and trying to change things? “Anyway, Mr. Pimples may get angry and eat the fish.”

  “Only if he gets in her way.” Mariss smirks and looks at me, but this time I avoid her eyes.

  Mariss takes the fish food from my hand and gives the bottle a long sniff. “Hmm, soya bean, yeast, wheat, brown rice … this is very healthy.”

  Is she a bloodhound?!

  “But you shouldn’t keep Miss Pimples so close to the speakers. The vibrations could kill her. Vincey, can you help move this?”

  “I can do it,” I say. The tank isn’t that heavy.

  “And open up those cuts?” Daddy snaps. “Leave it!”

  I roll my eyes. I had forgotten all about the silly scrapes. I can barely feel them.

  Wait
a minute …

  I run my hands over my elbows. The skin is smooth.

  I take a quick peek, and all that’s left of the bruises are two tiny black lines. This is so weird … I’ve never had cuts of any kind that healed so quickly before.

  Daddy comes over to lift the tank, and I shove the thought aside. He looks at me, and then over to my empty seat. I drop my head, return to the table, and slouch in my chair.

  “Sit up, Josie,” says Mariss. “We ladies have to mind our posture. Back straight, shoulders back.”

  I glare at Mariss and open my mouth to tell her some ladies need to mind their business, but I take one look at Daddy’s face and sit upright in my chair. I glance over at Ahkai for moral support, but he’s just watching Daddy and Mariss with this dopey smile.

  My own best friend … a traitor.

  Mariss gets Daddy to move the tank over to a mahogany table near the back door. That small change makes a big difference to me. Not even the delicious smell of Daddy’s soup and homemade cassava bread could make me feel better.

  I notice Daddy staring at Mariss with a dreamy smile too. He puts an arm around her shoulder and now they’re close together, looking at the picture of Mum, but their backs are turned to me so I can’t see any expressions.

  If I don’t think of a new plan soon, Mariss is going to win this war …

  Then, I spy a second chance of defense. Daddy’s homemade hot pepper sauce! Daddy says the local Bajan pepper sauce doesn’t make him sweat, so he invented his own. A pepper sauce made with blended Guyanese wiri wiri peppers and vinegar. Daddy wears bright yellow gloves and green goggles when he’s blending the sauce, looking like some sort of tropical mad scientist. Even if I’m upstairs in my room, the pepper fumes make me cough like I’m in a burning building. Just three drops of Daddy’s blend are enough to make him take off his shirt and stick the fan on his body.

  Miss Mo calls it the devil’s seasoning.

  I remove the cover that controls the drops and dump almost half the toxic pepper sauce into the pot of soup. Ahkai twitches like he’s been electrocuted.