“It is well. It is well with my soul! It is well. It is well with my soul!” The organ sounds ended, and the choir put away their music sheets. Amelia closed her hymnal and joined the women on the steps of the Sacred Name Church.
“Claudine, wha’ goin on?” Amelia patted Claudine’s shoulder.
“Wha’ goin on? Is your fault. You bring dem people here.”
“My fault? Wat I have to do wit dat? I jus come from mass.”
“Is one week since I askin Junio to fix de leak from his pipe. All dat water from de tank crushin de road. Is one week since I beggin de man to fix de leak! And you know wat he tell me today? You know wat he tell me? He tell me go and look for de law if I doe like it.”
“Aye! All dat goin on, Claudine. I never hear dat. You shoulda tell me dat since de day, and we woulda speak to dem.”
“Speak to dem? Whoa! When I speak to his woman, you know wat she tell me? She tell me to kiss her arse, and she bend it too.”
“Aye! Is so de situation is, Claudine? I go ask Gabbie to talk to dem.”
“Gabbie! Gabbie! Where you? Look soaps I have to give you.” Amelia closed the door gently.
“Church finish early today?” Gabbie strolled into the living room.
“Really early. De priest eh have much to say these days. He say by now people should know de Lawd comin.” Amelia threw her bag on the settee.
“What he preach today?” Gabbie placed his beer bottle on the center table.
“Well, same ole, same ole. Noah and de flood. But if I tell you what I hear after church.”
“If is any ‘he say, she say’ business, I eh want to hear. Today is Sunday.” Gabbie grabbed the beer bottle.
“Well, is about Claudine and Junio. Roro all over de place.”
“Dem people always in a roro and nex day is bar-be-que under de almond tree. Is for dat I eh goin to no bar-be-que dey have.”
Gabbie returned the bottle to the table.
“Well, Claudine tell me Junio pipe leakin on de road and all how she tell him to fix it, is quarrel he quarrellin.”
“Is not de first time dey quarrellin,” Gabbie responded.
“Dat is true but is de first time Joset bend her backside for Claudine.”
“Aye! Backside bendin too?”
“Tings really out of hand, and Claudine even bad-talkin we by de church, sayin is we that rentin for dem. You have to talk to dem, Gabbie.”
In the morning, Amelia accompanied Gabbie to the tenants’ house. Junio was on the balcony, and Joset was gathering leaves under the almond tree.
“Mornin. Mornin. How you’all doing?” Gabbie walked up to the balcony.
“Mornin, Gabbie. Lang time I see you,” Junio answered.
“Miss A, is a good ting you come here today. Dat Claudine woman is trouble. She come here wit’ cutlass yesterday sayin she will cut down we pipe if Junio cyaan fix de leak. Who she tink she is?” Joset walked up to Amelia.
“Cutlass? I eh hear nothin ’bout dat part, but I hear you have a tank dat leakin water on de road,” Amelia put in.
“Well, where we suppose to throw de water when de tank overflow? De water must pass on de road to go to de drain on de next side.” Junio pointed to the unfinished concrete drain.
“Junio, I undastan where you comin from, but all how I check dat situation, de water on de road will affect all of us. Is best if you build a drain for de water to go de right way.” Gabbie studied the drain.
“Look here, Gabbie, I have respec for you, so doe make me vex. As long as we rentin dat property, it eh your business where we throw water. Since when you gettin in people business? Since when? I eh makin no drain for my child and woman to fall. And nobody eh comin by dat house to do nonsense.”
“I have right on dat lan too. Jus remember my grandfather Jeffers Franklyn Wilson Jr. and your grandfather—dem people was fourth cousin,” Joset put in.
Gabbie was silent for a moment, then grabbed his wife’s hand.
“Amelia, we goin now!”
As they walked home, Amelia noticed the concern on her husband’s face.
“You know, Gabbie, I doe tink dat was de bes time to tell dem about de drain,” Amelia cut through the silence.
“Wha’ you mean, Amelia?”
“You know Joset pregnant again, Gabbie, and dat must be plenty stress on de boy.”
“But what dat have to do wit’ diggin a drain to make sure de water eh damage de road? You forgettin none of us build dat road. Is Claudine and her family dat build it.” Gabbie waved his hands.
“I know dat, but . . . ”
“But wat? Dat boy need to stop dat nonsense. He jus wan to play he big man. I will pay somebody to dig dat drain tomorrow, Amelia. I is de boss here, not he.”
In the morning, after a meal of leftover breadfruits and cucumber salad, Gabbie visited Fiyah. Fiyah was the “Bounce and Draw” man on Coli Road. He required immediate payment after working. Fiyah was outside filing his cutlass.
“Fiyah, how it stay dere?” Gabbie greeted him.
“Yeah Gab!” Fiyah smiled.
“Gason, I jus goin and weed a garden down de road,” Fiyah continued.
“Well, is a good ting I meet you. I want to dig a drain from where Junio and dem livin to de main drain. Too much roro in de place.”
“Hmmm . . . well, I hear about dat de other day. Nuff quarrelin on de road.” Fiyah grabbed his cutlass and abousak.
“Mate jus actin stupid,” Gabbie explained.
“Well, I can do it before I weed but you know de situation aready. Is bounce and draw,” Fiyah announced.
“So how much you chargin?”
“No worries man. We is partners lang time, so I go charge you a fifty.”
Gabbie smiled.
At 4:00 p.m., Fiyah entered Junio’s yard. The place was quiet. He began digging. Fifteen minutes later, an ear-splitting horn disturbed the quiet on Coli Road. Fiyah stopped. The sound of a slammed door echoed.
“Gason, wha de hell you tink you doin?” Junio walked up to Fiyah.
“Junio, I eh have no problem wit’ you. I jus come and dig a drain here for Gabbie.”
“Drain for Gabbie? Who is Gabbie to dig drain by my house?”
“Look here, Junio! I eh want no trouble. De man rentin de land for you, so he ask me to dig de drain.” Fiyah put down his tools.
“I eh care wat da man tell you. Move your arse by my house!”
Fiyah gathered his tools and walked briskly to Gabbie’s residence. Gabbie was hoeing in the backyard.
“Fiyah man, you finish de drain aready?” Gabbie closed the door.
“Finish? Gabbie, if I tell you, you eh go believe me. Junio come dere and stop me.”
“Stop you?” Gabbie sat on the bottom step.
“De man come dere and tell me to leave his yard.” Fiyah placed his cutlass on a stone.
“He tell you to leave?”
“Well, I eh know wat problem he have wit you, but I cyaan undastand how you rentin for a jackass like dat man. And Joset eh different, standin with her Bad John. Anyway, I come for my money since I dig half of de drain.”
Two weeks later, Gabbie walked into Junio’s yard. The car was parked in its usual spot, and Junio was slouching on the bamboo chair on the balcony singing. “Get up, stand up. Stand up for your rights . . .”
“Junio! Junio!” Gabbie approached the house.
“Wha’ you want, ole man?” He approached Gabbie.
Gabbie remained on the wooden steps.
“I jus come to talk to you and Joset.”
“Well, de month not end yet, if is money you come for.”
“Is not money I come for. I jus come here to tell you sumting.”
“Okay! Look me here. Jus say what you have to say.”
“Gason, you like too much roro. Every time somebody try to fix de problem with Claudine, you have nuff pappishow doin. I jus cyaan take it with you.”
“Wha’ de hell you goin to do? All shate Ms. So-and-So say, you’all believing,” Junio walked up to Gabbie.
“Wha’ going on?” Joset rushed out the door.
“Da man jus come here, talkin endless shate.” Junio threw the bamboo chair in a corner.
“You have a problem, Gabbie?” Joset put in.
“So is me dat have de problem. Me dat have de problem? All I come to say is you better find another place to stay. One month I givin you’all.” Gabbie shook his head.
“You is a mad man, Gabbie? “My grandfather and your grandfather—dem people was fourth cousins. Jus remember dat. Jus don’t forget is family land dat dere. Jus because dey say is your share dat dere, you tink you can put we out jus so. You must be a mad man if you tink you can put we out.”
It was mid-morning when the city police arrived. Gabbie stood on the balcony.
“Good afternoon, Sir. Are you Mr. Noire, Gabbie Noire?” The police office turned the pages of his notebook.
“Yes, dat is me. Is about time. Is two weeks I waiting for de police.”
“Well, I am here now. We have some issues at the station with transportation. My name is Officer Locking.”
“Is always a problem with vehicle. I eh know why government does spend all dat money for nothing. Like I tell de police on de phone, two weeks ago, I tell de people I rentin for dat dey must find another place to stay. Since dat day, is plenty roro here. Sometimes, I cyaan even sleep. Endless music and cursing in de night. I want de police to talk to dem. I eh want no more trouble.”
“Okay. I read the report. Is this the house?”
Officer Locking pointed at the property.
“Yeah, da is it. I comin with you.”
As they approached the house, they could hear Junio on the balcony singing. “Don’t worry about a thing cause every little thing gonna be alright. Singing don’t worry . . . “
“Mr. Tent! Mr. Tent! Mr. Junio Tent!”
Junio turned in the direction of the call.
“Wha’ happenin, offisah?” he greeted the police officer.
“Mr. Tent, we received a report from your landlord stating that you have been the cause of much trouble here.” The officer opened his notebook again.
“Me? Wha’ you talkin ’bout, offisah? A cool-lookin man like me? I all about peace you know.” Junio smiled.
“All about peace? Is it true that you prevented the landlord from digging a drain on this property? And after you were asked to leave, you started playing music at all hours of the day and night?”
“I did not refuse de landlord, offisah. I refuse de man he send. De landlord standin by you. Ask him! About de music, is jus some fellas drinkin a little rum, talkin a little shate. Nothin big.” Junio paced on the balcony.
“Don’t play smart with me, Mr. Tent. We received more than one report, even from the church.” The officer continued to turn the pages of his notebook.
“What dem fake-ass people complaining ’bout? Nobody never hear me complain when de Father havin mass all night. Who does care if I sleepin? Offisah, dat land my house on also belong to my girlfriend, great, great, grand, grand family. Is family lan even though people have share. We don’t tell nobody what to do at their home, where to throw their garbage. Why dey have to tell us where to throw water?”
“Offisah, dat is my share of de lan. Nobody have right on it,” Gabbie put in suddenly.
“Ole man, don’t put your mouth in my talk. My girlfriend mother have right here too. De way I see it, dat givin us right to be on de lan too. Offisah, if you mus know, right now dere have no water goin on de road.”
“Offisah, dat is a lie. I see it myself . . . at de back of de house.”
“You cyaan jus put us out, ole man. Family lan it is.”
“I not talkin to you, ole dog!”
Junio laughed.
“Well, ole man, dat dog eh goin nowhere and you cyaan do a ting. Not a ting!” Junio laughed again.
“Enough!” the officer interrupted.
“Mr. Noire, please file another report and speak to your lawyer if you want this matter resolved urgently. In the meantime, I strongly suggest that the two of you find some common ground or else—let the court decide.” Officer Locking closed his notebook.
“Let de court decide. Offisah, dat is madness. Why court have to decide who I keep on my lan?”
“Mr. Noire, please speak to your lawyer. Good day, gentlemen.”
Junio returned to his chair. He raised his beer bottle and smiled at Gabbie.
“Don’t worry about a thing cause every little thing gonna be alright. Singing don’t worry . . .”
Gabbie walked away.
Alicia Valasse-Polius is an award-winning St. Lucian writer, a linguist, and an educational technologist. Her work has been published in anthologies, journals, and magazines, including the Caribbean Writer, PREE, Moko Magazine, and Harlequin Magazine. She is the winner of the 2016 Canute A. Brodhurst and the 2021 Cecile de Jongh Literary Prizes.