Paradise Lost

Paradise Lost by Mary Margo Reid

In the old cane field where we played in our youth, it’s hard to believe what we hear is the truth, that this time next year it will be no more, replaced instead with a swanky resort.

“Momma, momma…”

“Boy, how many times I tell you don’t run into this place, like a threatened mongoose have you in a chase!”

“But momma...”

“And stop slamming that door also when unruly you rush in. Why must I tell you this again and again?”

“Sorry momma, but I got terribly bad news, the old cane field we soon can’t use.”

“And wipe your feet, I just mopped this place, you kids think I must be your personal house maid. All day long I try to keep the dust at bay, you don’t wipe your feet, and my hard work wash down the drain.”

“Momma, please listen this is important to share, losing the old cane field, will be my worst nightmare!”

“Calm yourself boy, before your heart gives way, I can’t afford a doctor bill this day.”

“But momma, I beg you to understand what I say, the old cane field gonna soon be replaced.” 

“What you talk bout is stale news child, that old cane field done no business in long while. Time it be something to uplift this community, bring in good jobs, more opportunity.”

“But it’s where we play, my friends and me, a fun game of hide-and-seek. In the windmill I crouch low and hide, no fear of the rats as they sniff near by. And such happiness when we climb that old baobab tree, even though we scuff and bleed our knees.”

“You getting big son, put away such thoughts and games, your grades lately have been such a shame.”

“It’s more than a game in the old cane field. It’s where we see the toad and frog when we turn over a rotting log. And an iguana I spy from afar, in the west part of the field: sun basking, head bobbing, climbing up a tree. And tell me momma, where we gonna’ watch the blackbird, wood dove, and sparrow, if the old cane field where they dart and weave, will be gone tomorrow? The old cane field so peaceful and alive, in the old cane field, animals thrive.”

“You’re your father’s child, I give credit where it’s due, his love of nature, it seems yours too. Now, go fetch your sisters, time we eat, all morning long I spend cooking on my feet.”

“It smells so good momma, but I cannot eat a bite, the soon loss of my bliss has stolen my appetite.”

“Okay, suit yourself, but you missing a fine supper. I done cook your favourite cou-cou, flying fish, gravy, and Bajan turnovers for after.”

"Well, I guess I could take a minute to enjoy, but then I gotta hurry before they destroy. You see momma we got a great plan, my friends and me, to save that old plantation land!”

“What you talking bout child, what is this plan? Don’t need no trouble, got enough on my hand! Remember what ya grandma use to say, don’t rush de brush and throw away de paint.”

“No trouble momma, it’s righteous what we do today, convince the owner not to bargain the land away. We gonna let him know of our vow, to help restore sugar cane by putting our hands to the plow.”  

“You have big hopes son I wish you luck, but know it’s bout profit, it’s bout big buck. So don’t waste too much time, don’t waste too much energy, money to that old owner, is this clever strategy.”

“Please come with us momma, to affirm our promise, please come with us momma, to be our witness. Being a kid, he may not look on us seriously, come with us momma, so he knows we worthy.”

“I can’t go son, I got much work to do, there’s sewing, clothe washing, bills to sort through. Your school uniform needs a patching, the bathroom a scrubbing, and if I don’t milk that goat soon, she’ll continue her fussing.”

“But momma, don’t you care, that when you look out the window that beautiful scenery won’t be there. No more brilliant wildflowers swaying in the breeze, no more cherry trees with their sweet fruit, no more birdwatching, no more things that appease.”

“Son...”

“No more oasis!”

“Come here son. I understand what you say, I too have my own memories of those long-ago days, when I ventured onto the cane field like a tomcat that strays. Sneaking through broken fence to steal sweet cane, sucking on the juice till I was chased away, that old guard dog, more friendly than foe, hardly believe he soon let me pat him so. And climbing that baobab tree to scan far and wide, see the ocean from up there, and admiring the beautiful countryside. But can’t fret bout such stuff, with a resort job be plenty enough. I got responsibilities, hopes, and dreams, and that hotel will be the answer to our needs. I pray so hard and am so deserving of much, no selfishness here, just hoping for a chance at luck.”

“Momma, oh momma, you can’t possibly work there, don’t betray me like this, momma, oh I pray.”

“Son, you growing up, you soon a man, there things bout surviving you need to understand, when you have to you do what it takes, to put food on the table, keep a roof over your head, clothes on your back, and perhaps the luxury of a decent bed.”

“I can’t eat momma, save mine for later, I’m more determined now than ever.”

“If that’s your decision, do what you must, your plate will stay warm in the oven I trust, just remember what I’ve told you son, don’t stay out longer than that old sun, for trouble finds a way when the moon rise, lighting diminished, trouble flourish.”

“Love you momma, I take heed what you say, from my upbringing I do not stray, and for my dreams I keep hope in my heart, that the old cane field, that paradise, will not be lost, but survive.”