Germaine

This is one of the six pieces I produced this semester in my Writing about Community course. This is my third and final revised version.

My brother Eden and I walk along the marl[1] road to Jenita’s shop by the gas station. Mama, our grandmother, charged us with a twenty EC dollar bill and a short list of things to not come back without. Two pounds of flour, baking powder, ling fish and accent seasoning.

I go because I’m a young woman “and need to know how to shop for things”. Eden goes because he “needs to learn how to carry a message”. We both go because chocolate bars are usually involved.

We pass Doris’ mother’s house. “Good afternoon,” we chime in unison.

The skinny dark skinned woman with barely a handful of hair on her head nods in response. Eden and I walk on, in and out of shade and sun under the evenly spaces neem trees.

“What happened to Doris?” I ask Eden.

“She live with she Daddy now or something so,” he says.

“Oh,” I say and chew my lip.

A loud bark from the across the street makes me pause. It’s Ms. Genie’s dog: a tall black-backed German shepherd with brown legs and belly. We don’t know his name so we call him Germaine.

Germaine stares at us from behind Ms. Genie’s tall wire mesh fence. He stalks us like a caged tiger from behind the fence.

“What’s his problem?” Eden says. He gazes back at Germaine.

“He doesn’t like us.”

“Well we don’t like him either.” Eden bends over to pick up a stone.

Germaine flinches at the movement, blinks, snarls then barks wildly. He charges at the fence, backs up and charges again.

“Ha!” Eden laughs. “He vex but he carn do nuthin’.” He hurls three stones at the fence. Germaine dodges and barks in a rage.

“Eden, leave Germaine alone and let’s go.”

“You too ‘fraid!”

“Who ‘fraid?”

“You!” he sticks his tongue out at me and points a finger inches from my face.

I slap his hand away and grab a white stone from the marl of the road. I walk up to the fence that holds German back. He’s biting the wire mesh trying to get at me. I run my fingers over the stone in my hand. The sweat from my palm makes mud with the dust. I aim at the fence near the angry dog’s feet and let the stone fly with force.

Snap! It connects and Germaine howls in surprise, then anger. Eden howls with laughter.

“See,” I say, smug, “I’m not afraid. Now let’s go.”

I snatch his hand and tug him towards the shop.

***

Eden and I leave Jenita’s shop with a brown paper bag each containing our spilt quarry. We each also carry a fresh baked coconut bun tart. We tear into the soft warm pastry buns and munch on the sweet grated coconut filling as soon as we step outside the store.

“Let’s walk the main road back,” I say between bites.

Eden shakes his head. “You really ‘fraid dat dog fa’ true!”

I suck my teeth and start walking. Towards the road through the village. Towards Germaine.

We near the house. I hold my breath and hope the dog has gone to the back. He has not. Germaine stands guard at the corner of the fence. He looks like he hasn’t moved since we left.

“Stupid dog.” Eden says. A bit of coconut shoots from his mouth when he laughs. I think he’s the stupid one. “He’s waiting for us.”

I look at Germaine. He looks back at me. He wags his tail and pants hard. He doesn’t look so mad anymore. Maybe he doesn’t remember us. The huge dog begins to trot along the fence. Back and forth. Back and forth, he paces. His tongue bobs around his open mouth in a sloppy smile.

“What’s he doing?” Eden asks.

“Walk. Faster!” I hiss the words through clenched teeth.

We pick up our pace.

Germaine stops pacing. He walks up to the middle of the fence and crouches down.

“What is he doing?” Eden asks looking back.

“Just keep walking!”

Before I can take another step, Germaine sticks a paw under the wire mesh. My heart drops into my stomach. Where did that space come from? Germaine sticks the other paw through, lies flat on his belly, shimmies his head into the opening then wriggles his body out and up then bounds into and across the marl road. Right up to where I’m rooted in place.

He sniffs at my brown paper bag and at my faded blue jeans. He sniffs at the bun tart still dangling in my hand. I drop it and he wolfs it down. I gulp at a flash of his teeth.

“Don’t run,” Eden says. “He’ll chase you.”

My tear ducts sting. Eden sticks the remainder of his bun tart out towards Germaine to entice him away from me. The dog falls for it. I start walking back towards the shop and the option of the main road. But Germaine wouldn’t have it. He starts walking behind me, ignoring Eden’s bun tart invitation.

“There’s no point. Just act normal. And don’t run,” Eden says.

I turn back around and walk away from the shop again, towards the intersection of the marl road and the top of our paved street. Germaine follows closely.

“I think he just wants to play,” Eden says. I think he’s big enough to eat me.

We get to the intersection and Germaine gets bored. He turns away, back towards his home. And I bolt. Eden yells. Germaine snarls and gives chase.

Eden flashes past me and jumps in one fluid motion over Doris’ mother’s front gate. My flip-flops fly off my feet. I clutch the paper bag and pump my fists. I throw a glance over my shoukder. Germaine pumps his heavy muscled legs in pursuit. I’m doomed. I trip, lurch forward, right myself and push forward into a leap. I swear I felt the brush of teeth on my ankle. Up ahead I see Ms. George’s unfenced yard. Without thinking I turn into the yard at full speed, peddle up her kitchen steps and throw myself onto her floor.

“Wha.. bu-but… Wait!” Ms. George sputters at the sight of me. “Miss Bird?”

“Yes,” I heave a few rapid, short breaths, “yes, Ms. George.”

“What happen to you child?” Her face is full of worry and surprise.

I pant and stagger to my feet. “Dog… ”

Ms. George laughs. “Genie needs to do something bout that ridiculous dog. Where your shoes child?”

I begin to cry. “I don’t know!”

She chuckles a little bit and hands me something wrapped up in paper towel. I unfold it. Fresh fried banana pancakes. I thank her through sobs and sink my teeth into the warm, fluffy fried batter and taste banana, sugar, and the salt of my tears. My racing heart slows and my tears ebb.

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[1] A mixture of light colored clay and crushed limestone. Marl often contains many small stones