Chapter 7 Six Hertens

It had always been my dream to find a teaching position at an Anglican school in Kingston, where fair-skinned girls in crisp uniforms gathered to draw from the wellsprings of the British curriculum.But during the job interview, I saw the headmaster of the school frowning. He was not concerned about the qualifications I had obtained, but only my background and education.I brought out my father's cousin and told him: My father is Lovie.Roberts was a man of character, a man of intellect, and somewhat noble enough to be a legend.The principal shook his head casually when he asked about my mother and grandmother.His conclusion, without a single word of the problem, was that I was of unorthodox origin, and that I was not fit to stand in their classy classrooms in front of upper-class girls.Later, it was my old friend Celia from the college.Lan Li helped me find a teaching position in Zhongzhongshu Civil Affairs District School and taught in dilapidated classrooms.

In the first few weeks, Celia squeezed my hand like we did when we first met in the washroom of the Teachers College.She was so popular at school that every morning little boys lined up to bring presents to her.The little girl pushed to the front of the classroom to be closer to her.Other teachers whispered to me that I was really lucky to have Xilia's professional guidance.Even the headmaster begged me to observe what Celia did.But returning to that school to teach hooligans was not at all my first, second, or even third choice.All my life I want to see Percival.The ghost of Brown and those nasty black faces grinning in front of me made me do evil just thinking about it.In an instant, my lofty dreams fermented into pitiful torture.

Celia tried to comfort me: how mysterious is the work of the Lord, how great and miraculous his works are. I said: He does, Celia, He does. For God's sake, nothing could be more mysterious than that a woman like me should live in the Andersons' house.It was the principal's wife who informed me that there was a room available in a respectable family's home.The headmaster's wife was not only educated in a Scottish boarding school, but she was also known for having tea with members of the royal family.I'm sure this kind of introduction will put me in residence with elegant people.But I was quickly overwhelmed by the vulgar nonsense of this savage family.I was so appalled by their uneducated behavior that I had to invite Celia to dinner with them so that she could witness the manners of these rough people firsthand.

Old lady Rosa.Anderson ate the chicken.She picks up the cooked poultry with twisted hands, peels off the chicken with the few remaining teeth, and gnaws greedily and intently until only gray bones remain.Then it sucked and sucked and sucked, as loud as water pouring into a broken drainpipe, and the rest of the family and Celia acted as if they didn't hear the obnoxious sound. After showing the food that was just put into her mouth, Rosa's daughter-in-law, Mrs. Anderson, told Celia about the process of giving birth to twin sons.Leona and Clinton pop out of nowhere and are expertly grabbed by the nanny.The two boys looked alike, and I wondered why there was a need for both to exist at the same time.Mrs. Anderson teased her two young boys, cutting up their food, stealing pieces off their plates, and pinching their cheeks.Then without warning, I got up from the seat, grabbed the two little boys, and kissed them loudly with greasy mouth, while scratching their itch and saying: You are so delicious, let me just kiss them on the neck .

At the end of dinner, Mr. Anderson pushed back the table, shook his shoulders, and clicked his fingers with one hand while carefully inserting the record with the other.jazz. He asked: Celia, do you like jazz? Mr. Anderson is an employee of the Public Works Bureau and a civil servant, he told Celia proudly, but as far as I can see, he just scratches his head and stares at the potholes in the road seven days a week.Celia tapped her feet to the noise of the phonograph, but Akechi declined the invitation to dance.She doesn't talk at the table, just smiles or nods or passes or chews politely.In private, she leaned toward me and said: But I like this family very much.The family was very fond of Celia, too, and Mrs. Anderson (who pestered me terribly to call her Martao) invited her several times to dine with us again.

Celia suggested to me: Hortens, maybe you should spend some time getting to know the Andersons.She wasn't the one to live in their giggles. Mrs. Anderson asked Celia: Celia, you beautiful girl, have you dated any young people?Someone who goes out with you? Celia blushed, and cleverly told a little lie: Oh, no, Ma Tao. Celia.Langley had told me, and she had only told me, that she was in a relationship with an RAF.The man had experienced gunfire in England, and he knew not only guns, air raids, and canned beef, but also the cold winter winds that blew across the English moors.Celia talked about him all the time.Hortens, did I tell you?She would start with a whispering tone, and then begin to use beautiful words, softly describing his eyes, his mouth, his hands, his hair from her lips.She said his voice was cheerful with the soft melody of a baritone.Whenever he was mentioned, her eyes wandered dreamily, her arms wrapped tightly around her body, steadying herself as she swayed from side to side.She met him in a store, when he asked her: Excuse me, do I know your sister?She forgot that she had no sister, so she told him her name.Celia said he had a big smile on his face, his eyes shone like polished glass, and he was as charming as a prince.He's a Leo and she's an Aries.That, she assured me, made them hit it off.Leo men are ambitious, and Aries women have a similar nature.But what excited her most about this man was knowing that he wanted to settle in England.She saw herself ringing the bell at the door of the tall house at last.He wanted to go back to England soon.She would sail far from this island, safe in the arms of the handsome RAF, to a place where he said every road was covered with golden carpets.

Well, Celia, I told her, you must let me meet this man who will take you far away. Celia's Air Force lover stood leaning against the wall, flipping through the pages of the newspaper, reading it so intently that he didn't notice our approach.He suddenly laughed wildly, and Celia stopped me momentarily and whispered: He is there.The man raised his hand and inserted a finger into his ear.His face was so contorted from trying to get something out of the hollow that he looked like he was trying to kill the flies buzzing in his ears.I didn't recognize him until he pulled out his finger to carefully examine the tip of his finger, and then wiped it on the leg of his trousers.

The person said: Hi, see you again.He was not talking to Celia, but to me. Xilia was confused and almost screamed: You two knew each other before? I heard the flat voice not a cheerful baritone say: She is the woman who likes to rub papaya on her feet. I argue: no.I accidentally stepped on it.Celia stared at me intently, wanting to hear an explanation. But the man just kept on making noise.Did you step on it?Celia, let me tell you about this woman.But wait a minute, is this woman the friend you mentioned to me? Celia nodded and tried to speak: We teach in the same school and then the man spoke again.

Celia told me that her good friend turned out to be you.Tsk, my God!He sucked in air between his teeth, shaking his head.is you.so you remember me I didn't answer, but he wasn't discouraged. Celia, let me tell you how I met this woman.It was the Bastar speech that day, next to the city hall office.Do you know Basta?Bastamanti?Everyone knows Basta.So that day was Basta's speech, and all of a sudden there was a dispute.Everything that could be picked up was flying around in the air.Boy, that chaos, everyone running around.And right in the middle of the big fight, the young lady in her best hat looks like she's going for a walk to church.So I rescued her.

He saved you?Celia asked. you what me?I yelled at the man, I don't need help. oh.I remember it being a situation where something was going to knock your head off and make you lie flat. He saved you?Celia said it again. Yes, I saved her.But the look on her face made me worry that she was going to turn her head and bite me. What about papaya?Celia wanted to know. I'm so glad you asked about papayas, Celia, because I'm sure your friend didn't tell you: she likes to wear papayas on her feet.We wait quietly for the man to finish laughing at his own joke.Celia told me a lot about him, but what she couldn't say was that sometimes when he smiled, the way he lifted his chin, parted his lips, slapped his legs and shook his head at the same time, it looked like Michael.

I asked him: I heard you were in the RAF? That's right, but you whispered to me, what else did Miss Celia tell you about me? Celia looked so ashamed, I thought she was going to melt. You were in the UK before? I'm so nervous now.Do you have a question for me, Miss Dirtyfoot? You know a man named Michael.Roberts people? who? Michael.roberts.He was also in the RAF before.It's the shooter. Is it your lover? If he hadn't grinned like a cheeky boy when he asked this question, I might have answered it.But he grinned, so I didn't answer.Then, he searched my face, as if a story was written on it, and suddenly he became serious.There are a lot of Jamaicans in the RAF, but I don't know one named Michael.Roberts'.Can you tell me a little more about him?Where is he stationed?You said he was a shooter.Do you know which squadron he is in? I whispered that I didn't know, and stared at my feet, afraid that if he asked another question that I couldn't answer, I might cry.The awkward silence was soon filled by his next wave of noise. Well, Celia, now you know about your crazy friend and her very strange style, you must introduce us to each other. Celia said softly: She is Hortens.roberts. Oh, so this Michael is your brother?He was still looking at my face when he asked, Celia, can you do me a favor in front of your friend? She smiled, relaxed again, and said: Hortens, may I introduce this man who may or may not have saved you?he is gilbertJoseph. Celia always dressed up before meeting this person, and I accompanied her several times.Oh, I'm tired of hearing what she keeps repeating. Holtens, one day I will live in England. I know, Celia.Lan Li, you told me! She will live there.She will live in England.All she could talk about was England, England, England, and it bored me.I know that when that day comes, she will sail to sea in the arms of a bragging man, and she will not think of leaving her friends in that nasty dirt school.Gilbert.Joseph was happy to have me there for no other reason than because his great ideas had a wider audience than Celia alone. On this day, he walked among us across the park looking like he just bought the moon and the stars.You see, how men envy me!They say: One lucky man, two beautiful women, he must have a lot of things that I don't.He smiled, of course, and then opened his elbows to let our arms go through.Celia hooked his hand, but I didn't. He urged me: Come on, Hortens.Are you going to make them think I've lost my charm? He went on.He talked tirelessly, sometimes starting with a question for Celia and me, as if a discussion might come.He will say: Let me ask you this question.But he didn't ask either of us to answer at all.He doesn't need encouragement, he answers questions on his own, and then he goes on.I can't breathe just listening to this man talk.His talk, his babbling, has only that one theme. Let me ask you this question. Have you seen the Houses of Parliament in London?I tell you, it was a miracle.Standing in front of the Capitol, you will feel that it is like a castle in a fairy tale overlooking the whole world, and you will think that the dragon is about to breathe fire at you.You must go see that place. Speaking of the wonderful part, when she needed to swing her arms to achieve the effect, Silia had to let go of her hands from between his bent elbows.And the Nelson Memorial.Have you ever heard of the Nelson Memorial?A man so famous that they set him up on a pillar so high that his neck froze just trying to find him.You can barely see him.When there is fog, he disappears completely, and only the pigeons know that he is still there. As we walked through the speckled shade, he stooped to pick up a fallen leaf from the ground, laid it flat in his palm, and fell silent.He gazed thoughtfully at the leaves in his hands, and his voice was surprisingly gentle, almost melodious, describing how trees in England shed their leaves before winter.The leaves on the tree will first turn red and then gold.As soon as the wind blows or the baptism of time passes, dazzling leaves fall from the trees, covering parks, gardens, and sidewalks in a golden blanket.You can walk through these autumn leaves.Everywhere.Children kicked leaves into the air, or picked up handfuls and threw them into the wind.Everyone does.Everyone loves the golden rain of leaves floating around.He raised his palm, holding the gradually browning leaves in his palm, so that Celia could take a closer look, and said: Imagine this everywhere. wow i want to see it.Celia said. When Gilbert heard this, he tossed the leaves into the breeze, and stretched out his arms to her and said: Then come to England with me now, Celia. Xilia opened her eyes wide like a playful puppy, she giggled and said, "Hortens, should I go or not?" Gilbert took her hand.Let's catch the next boat. What about my students? Your friend can help you with lessons.Gilbert jokes, Hortens will take care of everything, right?She would write to us, telling us about hurricanes, earthquakes, and rice shortages on the island; while we sipped our tea, we looked for General Nelson.Celia, will you come? Celia was dazzled by the golden carpet.She said: I will go. And Gilbert said: Good. Everything seemed to be decided between the two of them, so I thought it was important to ask: What about your mother, Celia?Should I take care of her too? The playful light in her eyes suddenly went out.She stood still like a rock. Bring your mother here.We'd go rowing with her on the Thames.Gilbert smiled, before noticing that Celia was staring at my face without moving.Otherwise leave her behind.He spoke slowly, looking first at Celia and then at me.He asked: Celia, what happened to your mother? I told him: Mama Celia is not doing well.He looked at me questioningly.I looked to Celia, hoping she would explain her mother's condition to the man.But she didn't, instead staring down at her feet.So, I had to explain to this man about her mother's illness and the events of the reviewing pilots.Parts of the story have become blurred in my mind.When did her wig fall off?How many pilots would it take to stop her?How far did we go before she tripped over her own clothes?I asked Celia for help, hoping she could clarify, but she refused to look me in the face.I came to the end of the story and told Gilbert, kindly, that the reason Celia's mother could not accompany them to England was that unfortunately she was seriously deranged.When the story was over, I watched them both in silence. Gilbert said: "So sorry to hear about your mum. Celia looked up at him, only smiling for a moment. I said: Yes, I feel sorry for her too. But she didn't give me a thank you smile. The silence that followed caused Gilbert to scratch his head in embarrassment.He suddenly said: Let me see if I can buy ice cream, okay?Then he disappeared without a trace, and I didn't have time to tell him that I don't like those ice things. I was about to say something nice to Celia, I forgot what it was, I just remembered words of comfort, and she just looked up at me, her eyes were menacing, her full lips were tightly drawn into lines of hatred.I couldn't see her fists coming up behind her and hitting me hard on the head.The punch was so hard that I nearly fell over as I staggered back in a daze.When my eyes opened again to focus, I saw my friend Celia walking haughtily away from me. Celia.I want to call her from behind her.But that villain has beaten my voice to pieces.