Simone's Duppy

[Author's Note: duppy means ghost in Jamaican Patois]

Simone never like to be alone, but that’s how she spend much of her time. After walking home from school, she would play alone in her room until someone else come home. Her mother, Andrea, did work at the patty shop, down the hill in the village. Basil only did work some of the time. Most of the time him was just lookin’ likkle work, or so him did say. Most times him was spending Andrea’s money down the rum bar.

Even at age seven, there were things Simone dread more than being alone, or even duppy. Home alone, in their little cottage, she would wait for either Mommy or Basil to reach. She always hope her mother reach first. Always. Basil was worse than duppy. No duppy ever try hurt Simone. So, when the duppy did come, it never concern Simone. Actually, it made her feel less lonely and afraid.

Basil wasn’t Simone’s father. He was just the latest of the men that did live in them house over the last few years. Sometimes, for spite, Basil would make Simone call him “daddy”, but Simone never know her father. She was sure, though, that her real daddy was nothing like Basil.

Though Simone did not like to be alone, as she often was, it was Basil that truly frighten her. He was mean. Very mean. Even when Andrea was home, Basil never talk nice to the girl, but it was a whole other thing when Andrea did gone. Him would cuss Simone, drape her up by the collar and shake her bad. Him would box her head or beat her all across her backside and legs. Hard.

Anything Simone said or did seem to vex up Basil. So, she sat alone in her room fretting, hoping Basil wouldn’t trouble her before Mommy reach home. She never understand how her mommy never make Basil leave for good, but she thought it was because Mommy afraid, too. Basil never nice to Mommy, either. Is only Basil one never seem to be afraid of anything. Him just do as him please.

Things hadn’t always been so, but Simone was too young to remember it being any different. She knew that Mommy had grown up in this same little house, but she had no idea how different things had been back then. Mommy never talk much about them times from before. In truth, Andrea had a happy childhood, but over the years had grown bitter. Life never turn out like how she did think it would go.

Andrea’s parents had built this house when she was a little girl. After two miscarriages, Andrea was like a gift to them. Her father had been a bus driver. He spent long hours on the winding mountain roads, running his multi-colour country bus between Kingston and Port Maria. When he was home, though, he doted on his little family. Andrea practically worshipped her father.

Mama Inez is the name everyone did call Andrea’s mother. She was a short, round woman with a twinkle in her eyes. She tended to their little home and small plot of land. One day a week, she would take a load of fruits and ground provisions and set up her stall at the produce market in Constant Spring. None of these things, though, was how Mama Inez get to be known in her community.

All of them things were things that she did. What she was is what people did call an Obeah woman. Most everyone in the community did go church on Sunday, but most everyone also did go Mama Inez when they did really need something. Mama Inez could sell you little oil o’ love me, or something to cure a running belly, or any manner of helpful things to get you through life. Them say Mama Inez was no poppy show Obeah woman, though. Them say she could talk to the spirits them for real.

Andrea sometimes go on like she shame, true her mother was an Obeah woman, but when Mama Inez was still alive, Andrea never feel so. Is only later that she learn to shame of her mother. Is only later she turn bitter and vex with her life. Is later that she did lose hope and start take up with man like Basil.

*****

It was one afternoon after school that the duppy did first come to Simone. The little girl was sitting in the floor, reading a book, when she did think say she feel something. It wasn’t quite a sound and not so much a movement, just a feeling. Like say something, or someone, was in the house. Simone stop reading and look around, but there was nothing to see or hear.

Basil soon come home and, then, there was plenty to see and hear. He did drunk on the rum again and shouting and knocking things around. Him always get vex when Andrea not there to feed him, even though him know say she working. When him get tired of knocking around the little furniture they did have, him decide to knock around Simone. It wasn’t the worst beating she had taken from him, but it was enough. There was insults and pushing. Him thump her one good time and then go lay down to fall into one alcohol fuelled sleep.

Sobbing to she self, Simone retreated to her room. This time she did feel the presence again and it come like she could see the air move. A duppy for sure, she thought, but she still never afraid. Something about the duppy made her less fearful and Simone wondered if the duppy was the spirit of Mama Inez. It never matter, though, because when you live with Basil, a harmless duppy is nothing to worry about.

It was not much longer until Andrea reach home. When Simone come out of her room, Andrea could tell there had been trouble. She never say a word about it, though. She just ask where is Basil and then go outside to build a fire to cook supper. Simone followed her Mommy outside.

“Mommy,” the girl asked, “is duppy a real ting?”

“What make you ask them kinda foolishness, gyal?” Andrea snorted. “Duppy is just story to frighten likkle pickney. You ‘fraid a duppy?”

“No,” Simone answered, honestly, before letting the subject drop. Mommy seemed aggravated at the question.

*****

Over the next few weeks, Simone felt the duppy with her more and more often. At first, it did come mostly after Basil cause trouble. Then it start come when Simone alone after school. Sometime it was a vague feeling, but a lot of time it feel just like someone else sitting in the room.

When Simone sat at the table, eating with Mommy and Basil, she could feel the duppy watching them. She looked at the grown-up faces, checking to see did they notice anything. They never notice. After a time, Simone felt to ask again about duppies. Grown ups were supposed to know about them kind of something.

“Mommy,” Simone asked. “You sure say is no such ting as duppy?”

Mommy kissed her teeth in annoyance, but Basil laugh a loud, demeaning laugh.

“Wha’ you know ‘bout duppy?” he snorted. “You nah know duppy come and tek way pickney what don’t behave themself? Better mind duppy don’t come get you.”

Basil laugh him rough laugh again, but Simone wasn’t frightened. Clearly, neither Andrea nor Basil knew a thing about duppy. Simone was sure there was a duppy in the house. It was real, but nothing to be afraid of. Better she just keep it secret for now. She never want them to vex more and them wouldn’t believe her, anyway.

That was the last halfway quiet meal the three would have together. Basil was soon off on a rum spree. Him never even come home for two days and when him did come home, as usual it was just Simone there. She was in her room playing when him come in the house. His footsteps were heavy and angry, but everything else was quiet. Too quiet.

Simone held her breath for what seemed an hour. There was no sound. Then, without warning, Basil bust up into the room. Him was cussing and shouting so til Simone never even understand what him saying. His eyes were on fire, though, and the little girl’s blood ran cold with fear. Rightfully so, because Basil gave her the worst beating of her life. When Mommy finally come home, she found her daughter still crumpled in the floor like a rag doll, bruised but mostly intact.

Andrea tended to her little girl, but never say a thing about Basil. That night in bed, Simone could feel the duppy strong. The duppy stay right there by the bedside. Basil had gone off to the rum bar again, but Simone stay awake late-late, afraid of what might happen when him come home. As much as she had always been afraid of Basil, for the first time, the seven year old considered the possibility that the man might all kill her. Simone believed that Mommy loved her, but she also knew that Mommy could do nothing to protect her.

“Are you Mama Inez?” Simone whispered to the duppy. As she lay in bed, it was the first time she ever speak to the duppy. She feel kind of foolish, but she wanted to believe that someone was there for her. If the duppy was her Mama Inez that would maybe make her feel little better. But there was no answer. By this point, Simone never doubt the duppy was real, but she never really expect an answer.

*****

The next day was Saturday. There was no school and Andrea was not working. Basil never come home the night before, but him show up in middle of the morning, drunk as a lord. Andrea was outside doing the wash and Simone was playing in the yard. When Basil started in on Andrea about where’s his food, Simone slipped into the house. The look on Basil’s face reminded her of the day before when he hurt her. The same rage glowed in him eyes them.

As Simone took refuge in her bedroom, she hear Basil voice raising and Andrea screaming. Soon she hear them storm into the house. Furniture breaking, more screaming, more crying and Basil hateful voice shouting over all of it. World War Three going on outside Simone’s room, as she cowered behind her bed.

That’s when Simone feel the duppy come again. This time the duppy come in strong like wind. Simone could feel the duppy filling the room, surrounding her. Outside, the brawl only got worse. When Simone hear Basil calling out she name, her body went rigid. “Not again”, she prayed silently. Her young mind knew that if Basil got his hands on her this time, it would probably be the last.

“No, no,” Simone whimpered, almost silently, squeezing her eyes shut, as she waited for the inevitable.

That’s when it spoke - the duppy, the thing, the presence. It was like a sound, but without sound. There were words, but not out loud. It was more like the duppy put the words inside Simone’s head. It was real, though. The duppy was talking to the girl. It had three words for her.

“Don’t be afraid.”

That’s when it happened. The air got thick and it was like you could see the wind shifting, almost like the duppy taking form. There was a noise like the rustling of leaves, growing louder until things, solid things, started shaking in the house. If Simone had ever been in an earthquake, the trembling house might have reminded her of one. Simone could feel anger in the air, but it wasn’t directed at her. It suddenly popped in her mind; the duppy get vex.

With a rush of wind, the duppy passed through the door into the outside room. There was more noise. It was an eerie sound, but also more furniture breaking and other such noise. Simone could hear pathetic, frightened crying from her Mommy. She also hear Basil screaming and, yes, him was crying, bawling like a baby. The sounds she was hearing were something she had a hard time believing. It was the sound of fear coming from Basil. Fear more than a little girl getting a beating from a big man. Basil was screaming like the devil himself take hold of the man.

As quick as it all started, it was over. Basil had escaped out the front door and was running away, screaming and babbling like a mad man. Later, some of the neighbours would say that Basil had run past like a streak of lightning, eyes like empty saucers, raving about duppies. His cuts and bruises told the story of a beating, but no one could understand how big man Basil could take a beating in a house with nothing but woman and little girl in it.

Simone felt the duppy come back into her room, only it was once again a calm presence. It was calm, but strong. Stronger than ever before. It had spoken and it had done something out there, something to Basil. Simone was worried about her Mommy, but she waited. She sat and felt the presence of the duppy gather around her.

“Are you a duppy? Are you Mama Inez?”

Simone asked with more confidence this time. After all, the duppy had spoken to her already. It had told her not to be afraid. The duppy had protected her. Simone felt she would get an answer this time. Everything felt different now.

“Duppy? You’s a duppy, or what? An angel? Mama Inez?”

“No, child.” It was the voice that wasn’t a voice. Feminine, but not quite human. “I’m not your Mama Inez, but your Mama Inez knew me. I’m not a duppy, or an angel, but some people call me those things. I’ve been called many, many things by many, many people.”

“Then what’s your name?” Simone asked, speaking with her mind, instead of her mouth.

“Oh, I have many names, also, but you can call me Erzulie. We are going to be friends, you and I, and you will never have to be afraid again.”

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[Author's Note: This story was first published in 2015 in POUi Cavehill Journal of Creative Writing, Issue XVI (Barbados).]