PseudoPod 896: Douen
Show Notes
From the author: “This story is set at my Grandmother’s house in Trinidad. The story itself is written in dialect the way I would have spoken it. It poured out of my head that way fully completed. Because I’m part of the diaspora, it is really reflective of how my parents spoke to me as a child and is the most unfiltered story I’ve ever written. “
Douen
By Suzan Palumbo
I see Mama in de cemetery when dey put de white casket in de ground. She was crying so hard she was shaking like when grandma died and Tanty, Mama’s aunt, had to hug Mama up tight, tight, to keep Mama from falling down.
At grandma’s funeral, Tanty say, “Doux doux Shalini, yuh have to hold up yuhself. Yuh have yuh daughter Samantha to bring up. Yuh must be strong fuh she.” Mama wipe she own tears and stop crying den. But she smile was spoil. I try to come first in school and eat all de rice and provision I hate when she cook dem for dinner, but Mama say she heart was broken. Fuh true she eyes didn’t shine full happy like dey did before.
Dis time in de cemetery Tanty didn’t say anything because even she was bawlin’ like a cow with everybody else. Mama was de loudest. She voice was like a cutlass chopping straight through de noise. Daddy stand up stiff next to she and was silent, like a stone.
I know why nobody tell Mama to hold up sheself dis time. It was because it was me dead in de casket in de bottom of de hole. It was my funeral.
Except I wasn’t in de box.
I was standing behind one of de concrete headstone watching Mama and all meh aunties and uncles bawl. I cry too, because I didn’t remember how I get there and I didn’t want to be dead. (Continue Reading…)
