Hope

Hope

It was late in the night when Hope sprang from the taxi, champagne bottle in hand. The driver put her suitcase at the bottom of the steps. Hope left it there and bounded up the remaining steps to the front door. She paused, breathed deeply to slow her heart, smoothed her pencil skirt; caressed her belly. She couldn’t wait to tell Mark.

She unlocked the door, tiptoed into the house and down the hallway. A soft glow filtered beneath the bedroom door. She flung it open. 

“Surprise!”  Her voice rang out, champagne raised to the ceiling. 

The couple in the bed stopped in mid action. Hope’s eyes locked with her husband’s, then with those of the woman sweating under him.

“Murda! Murdaaaa!” The woman screamed, jumped up, fled into the bathroom and slammed the door.

“Hope! Wha…wha…wha you doing here?” Mark stammered. He snatched the opened Bible from the nightstand and slammed it over his prick.

“I live here! You bastard!”

“You…you…why you came back early? You should be still in Wales!” 

Hope clutched the bottle, glaring at him. 

“Anyhow, I glad you find out,” he said. “I won’t have to screw Marcia behind you back anymore.”

“You could screw her eyeballs out. I don’t give a shit now.”

Hope flung the champagne bottle at him. He ducked. It barely missed her guitar propped in the corner. She grimaced. 

“I sorry that didn’t hit you, Mark,” she said, and fled. She grabbed her suitcase from the steps, dragged it along the road and onto the rocky track that led to her parents’ nearby home.

Hope stumbled and fell; bruised her knees and palms on the jutted rocks. The suitcase kept banging onto her legs. Her skirt did little to assist and she was certain that her white, silk blouse, which she had bought in Wales, was pretty much like her life right now.

*

“But he is a worthless man!” Hope’s mother said. “Marcia should be shamed o’ sheself! She is a real slut dog! I always had a feeling dat she did up to no good from de time you tell me how often she uzed to be calling Mark over at she to fix things.”

“I gine fuh my cutlass!” Hope’s father said, heading for the door.

“Daddy, don’t bring yourself in trouble!”

They heard him muttering, “I gine and cut dese canes.”

“Mummy, what canes?”

“You forget dat you father memory going and coming?” 

Before Hope could respond, her father returned, saying, “I got to wait ’til de sun rise. Outside too dark.”

“But Hope, why you didn’t drive you car?” her mother asked.

“I didn’t trust myself.” Hope looked down at her bruises and felt a fresh torrent of tears down her face like hot wax. 

“Don’t suck youself so,” her mother said. “It hard but God will help you. You know you is de onliest child we got. You stay here as long as you want. Look, get out dem dirty clothes. Tek a long bath. I gine bring up de suitcase.”

Hope held the handrail and hauled herself upstairs. Silver, her mother’s gentle tom cat followed. She opened the door to her room and kicked off her shoes. In the bathroom, she peeled off the grimy clothes and stepped into the shower. Warm water mingled with saltwater from her brown eyes. Her bruises stung but nothing like the sting she felt inside.

She hugged herself and leaned against the aquamarine tiles that reminded her of the sea, slid to a sitting position with her knees drawn up to her chin, and rocked back and forth.

This is not real, it isn’t happening to me, Hope told herself over and over.  No, not Marcia, who helped me to pack and told me to enjoy myself in Europe. Not Marcia, whose hands I held when her own husband left her for her younger sister. No, not Marcia, but yes, Marcia! Oh God, you…Judas’ sister…Et tu, brute?

Hope grabbed the body wash and lathered herself vigorously, the scent calming her. She rinsed, wrapped a towel around her body and another around her hair.

In the bedroom, she sank onto the queen-sized bed and lay in a fetal position. Her thoughts assaulted her again. 

If I had been able to give him a child sooner he would not have turned to Marcia. But Marcia can’t have children. So why did he got involved with her...?

She pummeled the pillow which morphed into Mark’s face. You? You? I HATE YOU, MARK PETERS! I put everything into this relationship. I should have left you when I first found out you were cheating on me. Before we were married. You swore on that same Bible that you used to hide your guilt, that you would never be unfaithful to me again....You wait!!! You too, Marcia. I’ll deal with the two o’ you!

Mark’s face receded and Hope tossed and turned until dawn. As sunlight danced on her face, she became conscious of a warm, furry sensation next to her. She sprang up. A grey ball leapt in the air with a yowl. Silver! He crawled to her and began licking her face. She hugged him and buried her face in his fur as he purred. 

Vzzzzzt! Vzzzzzt!

Her cell phone. She picked it up and saw a text:

I leaving the island 4r 2 days. By 2Mor get ur blasted things

from out my house. Take ur damned car 2.

Hope threw the phone, dressed, plodded downstairs and outside into her parents’ orchard. Silver joined her. He pounced on something in the grass. After a while he returned and dropped it at her feet. “Thanks, Silver,” she said, and, “Good boy,” as an idea slowly came to her.

“Hope, come and eat!” Her mother’s call interrupted her thoughts.

Food was the last thing on her mind but her mother coaxed her. “Eat something. Yuh done skinny a’ready. If a high wind blow, you would sail right through de air like a feather.” 

Hope nibbled at a fish cake and took a sip of Milo but felt like hands were choking her. 

“I gine kill Mark, cut out his belly, unravel it, wrap it all around the house and fill the cavity of his deceitful guts with dirt!”

 “Lord havis mercy! Hope, no! Don’t think so. Don’t let me got to hold my belly fuh you. The Bible say, vengeance is mine. I will repay, saith the Lord.”

Cutlery rattled as Hope pounded the table. “And William Congreve or somebody said, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned! Mummy, I don’t care what you say; I’m going to kill him!”

“And when you kill him, who gine look after us?”

Hope put her head down and bawled. “Call Rosemary,” she said, her childhood friend springing in her thoughts. “Tell her what happened. Ask her to come.”

When Rosemary arrived, Hope showed her Mark’s text. 

“It could be a trap, Hope,” Rosemary said. “Don’t go over there alone. Let me call Roger.” 

Later that night, as they were preparing to leave, Hope took a plastic bag from the kitchen, slipped back into the orchard then stopped by Silver’s litter pan. Rosemary just eyed her suspiciously.

“Ready?” 

Hope nodded and got in the car for the short drive. 

Roger, Rosemary’s brother, was parked outside the bungalow. When they were inside, Hope gazed around at what had been her home. I could never live here again, she thought.

She stormed through the house, removing all of her personal effects. She grabbed clothes and underwear, stuffed them in cases and carry-ons; plopped shoes and handbags into storage bins. Rosemary and her brother took them to his car. Finally, it was over. Done.

“I forgot my guitar!” Hope said, at the door. 

Rosemary noted the bulging plastic bag that Hope held. “I’ll be in the car,” is all she said.

Hope went into the bedroom. “You’ll never sleep on this bed again,” she said, and dumped cat faeces and the dead rat on it. Then she rejoined her friends, cradling her guitar.

She drove her Suzuki out of the garage and back to her parents’ house. Rosemary and her brother followed. When they reached, Roger lugged the belongings upstairs and Rosemary helped Hope to store and arrange them. 

 “Will you file for divorce?” her friend asked gently. 

“I can’t think about that now,” replied Hope. “I have to think about myself.”

“Come and get something to eat,” Hope’s mother called up the stairs.

In the kitchen, Hope’s father was at the table. “Move! Move from round me!” he muttered, swiping at the air.

“Daddy, what are you hitting at?”

“These blasted-well birds. Look, look, one near you, Hope!”

“There’re no birds in the kitchen, Daddy.”

“Yes! Yes! Leh me get that!” He grabbed a nearby broom. Whack! The broomstick broke against the table. “Ah, hah! I got one, though!” he exclaimed.

“Leroy, stop doing foolishness and eat dis food!” Hope’s mother put a bowl of mutton soup with cornmeal dumplings and ground provision in front of him. “Rosemary, Roger, come. Sit down and eat!” 

Rosemary ate slowly, savouring the soup, relishing the taste of the salted pigtail. Hope toyed with hers. Roger scraped his bowl. 

“Mumsie, dat soup taste real good. Sorry I got to eat and run, but I got to get to work. See wunna.” 

“Thanks for your help, Roger,” said Hope.

“Anything for you, Hopie,” he said.

After, Rosemary helped with the washing-up. Hope remained at the table. 

“I think I’ll spend some time with her. I’m on vacation,” Rosemary whispered to Hope’s mother. “I don’t like how she’s looking.”

“That will be good for her. De lil compney will help she. It will ease me, too, ‘cause you see how she father is.” 

Rosemary touched her friend’s shoulder. “I’m going home for some clothes.” Hope nodded.

*

“You ever longed for something but when it came, it was at the wrong time?” Hope asked Rosemary a few days later.

“Many times.”

“You could imagine that I came back from my trip early to tell Mark I’m pregnant?”

Rosemary’s jaw dropped. She hugged Hope. “You know that I’m here for you?” Hope nodded and picked up her guitar.

Playing it always gave her solace. She strummed many of her favourite hymns—I Need Thee Every Hour, Draw Me Nearer and Love Lifted Me. Her father, drawn to the music, would sometimes bring an overturned bucket and use it as a drum, banging away in accompaniment, eyes shining.

“Hopie, you pen-up in this house too much,” he said, in a rare lucid moment, after one of their music sessions. “Why you don’t go to the sea?”

“In time, Daddy, in time−.”

*

A week or so later, Hope asked Rosemary, “You could drive me to the beach tomorrow early?”

“I was wondering when we would go swimming again. What time?”

“Four-thirty. Before the others get there. I don’t feel like seeing the whole crowd yet.” Hope smiled. “Daddy made me realise how much I miss swimming. And you know I love the sea.”

Both friends did.

They belonged to a swim group that met on Enterprise beach most mornings. Some of them, Hope and Rosemary included, had even taken a water rescue course the year before. They loved the ocean but they respected it more.

Next morning, Hope inhaled the briny, distinctive, scent of the sea. 

It was not dark. The full moon married its glow with lights from an oil tanker moored at sea, creating an aisle of shimmer on the water. Beams from the nearby jetty competed with lights from the neighbouring guest houses. Beacons from the police station filtered through the casuarinas, and tree-shadows trembled on the sand. Crabs scuttled into their holes as the two friends walked the deserted beach. The only sounds were the squelching beneath their feet, birds greeting the morning, the rustling of leaves in the almond trees, the surf as it pounded the rocks, and….a piercing scream that rent the air. 

“Somebody help! Oh God, heeeelp!” 

It came from the water, a shrill, woman’s voice. 

“Someone’s in difficulties,” Rosemary said. “Hope, we have to help!”

“I pray to God we remember the procedure,” replied Hope.

They shouted, echoing the call for help to alert others and scanned the water for signs of distressed swimmers.

“Look over there!” said Rosemary pointing. Nearsighted Hope could not see distinctly. “Look in line with the ship. Two heads are bobbing in the water. I see two hands flailing.” 

 “Oh, yes! I see some blurs now!”

They kicked off their slippers and ran into the sea. Arms slicing through water. They used the fast, freestyle stroke to battle the thundering breakers. Repetitive cries of “Heeelp!” guided them. Normally, Hope would have enjoyed the exercise. But her mind was fixed on the rescue. Beside her, Rosemary raised her head for a sighting. “Not…too far…now…” she gasped. It was not a long swim but Hope knew that it took 20 to 60 seconds for an actively drowning person to become fully submerged. Lord, keep them afloat, she prayed. Ahead, a swell was approaching. Rearing like a frightened horse, the wave descended with a sonorous WHACK!!! They dived under. When they burst up for air, they still heard screaming. Something about that voice sounded familiar. Rosemary gave Hope a strange look as she turned to breathe.

 “You okay?” Hope asked. Rosemary gave a thumbs up. 

Hope, however, was in turmoil. My life is in a whirlpool but here I am risking it to rescue someone....

“Soon…there,” gasped Rosemary.  Hope raised her head to take a sighting. She saw a woman. Panic on her face as she yelled. Then Hope recognised the face. Now she understood why Rosemary had looked at her strangely. Hope paused. Mid stroke. “Turning…back,” she panted. “Can’t…do it.”

“You can…if you want to,” Rosemary urged. Hope trod water for a moment, then swam again. God has put the bitch into my hands. That other person must be him. Now is my payback time. But no, Rosemary will be a witness! I can’t burden her. I wish he would drown before we get to him. Look at him there, his face twisted in pain. I could dive, pull him down and let the sea claim him. But I don’t want to pollute the waters—”

Rosemary swam over. “Get him,” she instructed. “I’ll get her.” 

Lord, this is like choosing between six and half a dozen, Hope thought. She could hear the whore blubbering now, “H-Hope…g-glad you…came.” 

“Relax. Save your breath,” Rosemary intervened, before Hope could reply. Hope dived and came up behind Mark. She grabbed him under the armpits and by the shoulders. Rosemary did the same manoeuvre to his flailing partner.

“Relax,” said Hope. She turned to her side, holding Mark in an upright position with his head out of the water. His buttocks rested on her hips. She used the sidestroke and the scissor kick to propel him through the water. Rosemary did the same with Marcia.

As Hope approached the rocks which, like sentinels, stood near to the unoccupied life guard’s station, she thought, He laughed at me when I was taking this course. I should slam him onto these rocks now. Let the rocks crack open his head. Make it seem like an accident. But...I could hurt myself, too...No. Not now. Not with this life inside me... I’ll take this blasted cheater to shore. He’ll live with the knowledge that I saved his life.

Hope veered away from the rocks. The sea, frothing like foam from a panting horse’s mouth, slammed onto the rocks, shooting sprays into the air. Then the heavens opened. Rain? Now? thought Hope. The drops landed on the water like pearls.

Rosemary reached the shallows. She wound Marcia’s arm around her neck and shoulder, gripped her waist and helped her from the water.

 “I got she. I got she,” said a man as he ran forward. Rosemary flopped to the sand, heaving. Another man rushed to help Hope. The women signaled their thanks. Both men were members of the morning swim group.

“Hold him… under… the other…armpit,” Hope said as she dragged Mark to the shore. She turned him onto his side and started to stretch and massage his stiffened calf muscles. He groaned. She did not stop until she felt his muscles relax. 

“Thanks, darling,” he murmured. 

And then, “Forgive me. Come back to me.” 

“What?!” Hope was incredulous.

“I serious. I won’t cheat on you again.” 

Hope stared at him long and hard, then at her wedding ring. Why am I still wearing this? Was this what I was hoping for? She wavered for what seemed an eternity then cracked the same ring-finger hand across Mark’s face. 

“Why you hit me?” he shrieked, a streak of red trickling from his nose.  Hope did not reply. She twisted the band from her finger and strode towards Marcia. That panting woman raised a pathetic hand as if to fend off a blow. Hope flung the ring at her. 

“You need this more than I do,” she said and moved towards the water’s edge. She slumped down next to Rosemary. 

When they were breathing normally, Hope said, “One day, I can tell my child how I saved its father’s life.”

“You keeping it then?”

“Uh-huh.” 

“I knew you would.”

“How?”

“Hope Peters, I know you since primary school! You can’t hurt a fly. And besides you were trying for so long.” 

Hope smiled. After a while, she stood and headed for the water. “One more dip?”

Rosemary got up, too. “I know you didn’t enjoy that first one.”

“You know me really well!” Hope laughed. She dove into the waves, pearls of rain still bouncing on the water, and pushed out with strong butterfly strokes. 

                                                                                       (2,974 words)

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