Read Island Songs for Free Online Page B

around Joseph’s feet. He took a generous bite, not bothering to peel the skin. “Papa, cyan me ask yuh somet’ing?”
    “Yes, sa. Wha’ is it?”
    “Papa, de Bible say dat de Most High made mon in him own image, y’understand?”
    “Yes, dat true. Ya mama swear by de good book an’ she teach yuh good.”
    “Den if dat true de Most High mus’ be ah black mon. Nuh true?”
    Fidgeting with discomfort, Joseph didn’t know how to answer David’s question. “Well. Me nah sure. But when me once sight Preacher Mon old picture Bible, Jesus Christ always white an’ him’ave blue eyes. So me feel so dey mus’ show dat fe ah reason.”
    Not convinced by his father’s reasoning, David shrugged. “Papa, yuh t’ink black people inna de old days had mighty Kings and Queens like de royal family dat live inna mighty palace inna England? Yuh t’ink dat coulda be true, Papa?”
    Searching his son’s face, Joseph wondered why David was quizzing him like this. “Nuh, mon. We come from slaves. Well, most of we. Me cyan’t see how slaves coulda ever be King or Queen. David, yuh been talking to mad Miss Blair inna market square? People say she one ah dem mad Garveyite. Marcus Garvey born inna dis land but people say Garvey talk pure fart. Even Preacher Mon say dat inna him service so Amy tell me. Yuh know Miss Blair? De old woman wid ah long mout’ an’ knock knock knees? Her husband pass away many moons ago an’ she live out near ah Crab Foot Gully where de grass grow long an’ holler wid de wind.”
    David nodded. “She is one strange woman,” Joseph added. “Me feel so she coulda be inna de obeah t’ing.”
    “Nuh mon,” David laughed. “Papa, Miss Blair ’ave her strange ways but she ah nice old woman. Me don’t know how yuh cyan accuse de poor woman of witchcraft. Papa, yuh been lissening too much to de higgler dem.”
    “She talk madness, mon. Me don’t trus’ her. Me tell Amy dat if she come to buy anyt’ing den she mus’ give it to her free of charge.”
    Laughing again, David enjoyed his father’s superstition. He then composed himself with another bite of the mango. “Papa, me talk to ah man de udder day who is well educated. Him know him letters an’ him cyan read mighty. Him tell me dat back inna de days of de never never der was dis African king who call himself Prester John. Dis Prester John was well mighty an’ him ah rule nuff people all over Africa an’ ah place call Asia Minor. An’ him wise like Solomon. Papa, yuh ever hear ah dis mighty mon?”
    Joseph shook his head. “David, who ah tell yuh dis mad talk an’ loose words? Don’t lissen to dem, David, for dey waan lead yuh astray. Who ah tell yuh dis foolishness?”
    “Jus’ ah mon who was passing t’rough,” David lied. “Me cyan’teven remember wha’ dis mon look like. But me generation is learning new t’ings dat ya generation cyan’t tolerate.” Rising to his feet, David attempted to mask his unease and disappointment. “Papa, me ketch yuh later. Mebbe we cyan share ah liccle rum when de moon ah shine bright an’ de cricket dem start quarrel.”
    “Yes, sa.” Joseph looked at the money his son made for the day. “Yuh deserve it mon. Mebbe yuh coulda tek ah liccle money to court girl wid,” Joseph smiled.
    Joseph’s last words were wasted for David was already climbing the field.
    Hunched over his fire, Levi was lunching on a lobster, crab and callaloo when David emerged from the thicket. “Afternoon, brudder,” he greeted. “Yuh come jus’ in time. Yuh waan ah portion ah dis lobster?”
    Levi’s makeshift home was situated on a sharp slope between two cedar trees surrounded by Blue Mahoes. Scraps of dead wood and warped sheet-metal formed the walls and a ragged length of corrugated aluminium acted as a roof. There was just enough room inside for a straw and almond leaf bed. A nearby smaller hut contained Levi’s cooking items, a selection of books, food, various sundries that a man required to live in