The Apostle made no mention of the calf or obeah. Rumors popped up at random, like bubbles in a brew. At the grocery, people whispered Rolling Calf. Unexplainable things were nothing new to Gibbeah. Only few remembered, and only faintly, that the Apostle’s arrival had gone unexplained as well. All this excitement was too much for Lucinda, who translated it sexually and whipped herself before sleep. In the morning the cow’s ashes were swept away by wind, leaving an almost perfect circle of burnt black.
The Rum Preacher leapt from his bed, his eyes white and infernal. He was screaming again. To the Widow, he seemed to say the same things over and over, but they were not words. They sounded like gargles or names hacked to pieces before they were spat out.
“Lucas! Lucas! Lucas!”
ROLLING CALF Part Two
Go down Emmanuel Road
Gal an boy
Fi go broke rock-stone
Go down Emmanuel Road
Gal an boy
Fi go broke rock-stone
Broke them one by one
Gal an boy
Broke them two by two
Gal an boy
Finger mash don’t cry
Gal an boy
Remember a play we deh play
The truck did late.
It did always late.
Late to come.
Late to leave.
Late to pick up the mash-up stone.
Late to go from where it come.
Usually is nuff of we that get the little day’s work which go to helping out round the house.
Grandmother did do it, mother do it.
And pickney do it too.
Them lay out the big limestone rock pon the side of the road and we pick up we hammer and commence to broking.
Finga mash, don’t cry. Remember a play we deh play.
We no know what them use the rock for.
Some say to make road. Some say to make rich white woman house. Nobody never ask cause country people take things as them be.
By the next morning the truck come and pick up what we broke up, but leave behind plenty, almost two hill of stone on the two side of Brillo Road near the bridge.
The truck did gone, but the Devil just come.
Yes sah! Word burst like fire pon dry grass say Mrs. Johnson making bun in the oven!
What you saying pon we earshole?
Yes baba! Rumor jump from her yard and race down the street and stop at Mrs. Fracas house, then Mrs. Smithfield house where it pick up two more story, then it hop and skip and jump from one yard to the next, then it race to the grocery shop where it bounce and bounce like American ball. And every time rumor bounce, the story pick up something new.
Well, everybody know say Mr. Johnson lose him nature ever since him come back from the war. Only thing him can do with it is piss.
True-true. Everybody know say that if she breeding, the baby better take after him mother hard or all Hell goin broke lose. If that baby ever look like the man who a dig her, then Clarence in some serious hataclaps. Then when even people who should know better start to say is really so, news bounce back say is not so. Is just sick she sick. Then news start bounce again, saying she kill the baby. Nuff woman, when them see say the blood stop run and them belly get sicky-sicky, start eat whole heap o green paw-paw to stop baby from borning.
That is nothing new, stillborn baby who mad say them never get born haunt plenty woman.
One time rumor say stillborn baby haunt Mrs. Smithfield so much that she have secret funeral round the back of her house and wash out her pokie with goat milk.
Then hi — everybody know say that when poor little Lillamae father mess with her and she start show that she eat green paw-paw. Mrs. Fracas say she see it, or she hear it.
Mrs. Fracas hear and see so much that she don’t know if she see with her nose or hear with her eye. She say that is only when the box under Lillamae bed start stink up the whole house and dog start sleep outside her window that she sneak round the back of the house and bury the baby. A no nothing new.
But things was getting out of hand.
Tell we.
Mr. Johnson tell people that ever since the war when him used to sleep in the trench under gunfire and bomb and them things, no noise can wake him. Now Mr. Johnson is one big man. Bigger than Paul Robeson who sing Old Man River in that Showboat movie that play at the Majestic. Once him gone to sleep, him might as well be dead. But every night you hear whimpering coming from him room like when cat a cry.
Whimpering? Is more than that. Moaning and groaning. And grunting.
And the bedspring creaking fast, then slow, then fast again.
You know what it is and you ears feel wet.
For a man who sleep like him dead, Mr. Johnson up to whole heap of night activity in him bedroom.
Like is Mr. Johnson doin the activity.
But hi! Things that should a gone with night come catch people in the day. Heh-hay!
Now you know say Saturday is one bad day for Mr. Johnson.
Friday night worser.
People say is was a Friday night when him was marching in Normandy that everybody in him regiment get kill except him. Now every time Friday night start turn into Saturday morning him live it all over. Two months before, them see him burst through him house door and drop flat and roll, all the time screaming, “Blue company, out! Blue company, out!” When them finally find him, him already dig this big hole right behind somebody house and curl up in it covering him ears. Since then, him keep him World War to himself. Nobody too sure bout how certain things did happen, but here is the best guess.
Tell we.
Mr. Johnson head take him and him jump out of bed again to go join blue company when a explosion go off and him hit the ground. Him seeing trench instead of floor. Then him start crawl like lizard and go right under the marriage bed. That must be where him find things that never should a lost.
Holy Jesus our Heavenly Father!
Mrs. Smithfield hear the first noise. Mrs. Johnson scream something loud and Mr. Johnson scream back, “Then a who fah? After me no wear white brief.” Then she say she don’t know and him say that him goin kill her today, today, today.
Abba babba sicorsa tatta.
Then she start scream again and things start smash up. She bawling out like is the Devil over there killing her, and everywhere her screaming voice go, him Hellfire voice follow. “So one buddy no good enough, eh? Whoring nayga slut, I goin fix you bloodclaat business!” him say. She scream louder. People start gather outside the gate to watch God judgment. Lucinda race down to the church to call the Apostle. Mrs. Johnson begging somebody, anybody, to come save her because him goin kill her. More people outside the gate. Then we hear something else drop.
Drop?
Drop. Like when you drop meat. Then her door burst open and Mrs. Johnson jump out like she explode from cannon. But she stop when she see everybody outside her gate looking at her. Mrs. Johnson cover her breast with one hand and her pokie with the other. Her brassiere did tear open and her hair did pull up and wild, with some of her roller hanging off her head like Christmas tree. That was all she did wear. Her left eye did swell so big that it close up shut. She didn’t know what to do. She look so fool that she couldn’t even remember to feel shame. Then right in the middle of the quiet everybody hear something click. Mrs. Johnson know what it was right away and run off round the back. The second everybody see him, everybody scatter. Mr. Johnson bus through him door with him eye them black like sin. Him have on him war face. Nobody ever go near Mr. Johnson anytime him head take him, and them don’t go for one reason.