Crick Crack

Chapter One: The air was cold, the opposite of the springy air I had experienced only a couple of days ago, the wind was chilling and the sun hid beneath enormous grey clouds; I had forgotten that the seasons would be different on the other side of the hemisphere, I think maybe Mr Hinds had mentioned it, but it didn’t come to my notice until I stepped off the cramped, steamy boat known as the Orbita onto the hard concrete floor of Dover port. I looked around to see if there was a familiar face around; the majority of the people coming off the boat were Caribbean, some fair skinned people running towards them without reproach with cameras and asking them senseless questions; ones which would have caused me severe discomfort had they been asked to me. I couldn’t find my father anywhere; my heart froze, for there was a fear overcoming me that maybe I was lost, maybe this wasn’t England at all; it didn’t feel like England. It was so grey and so colourless, maybe the boat had gone off course, or I had gotten on the wrong one. Toddan squeezed my hand, there wasn’t much I could say; I squeezed back to let him know that I hadn’t forgotten him. Earlier on Toddan had made such an imbecilic fuss about the clothes he was dressed up in, Auntie Beatrice gave him smart black shoes, long trousers, a white shirt with a small tie, he wasn’t used to such formal clothing, even on the boat he insisted he should be allowed to strip the uncomfortable clothes off and jut walk about in his vest; I rather liked the dress she had bought for me for the journey, it was long and silky, blue with white flowers, I still didn’t like the way she tied bows in my hair, but I sorted that out myself once I got on the boat. I started to feel positive that Toddan and I would find our luck and fortune here, ever since I started to become estranged by my Auntie, who used me as a toy for affection, and ever since I detached myself from the world which Tantie raised me in, I felt a yearning to live in the middle class, proper society which I felt elevated to. There was a third place which was always calling me, and perhaps now I had finally reached it. “Tee! Toddan!” a voice shouted, “Chillen’ is dat yu?” We turned to the direction the voice was coming from. The face that greeted us had changed so considerably from the photo that was kept on the mantelpiece of my old bedside table. It had only been seven years, but his face was less healthy, his skin was withered and pasty, his cheekbones were much more visible, and his muscles has lessened in mass, he had started to bald, and his eyes which glistened in the Caribbean sun of the photo were now gloomy and dead. It was only seven years since that picture; I wasn’t sure what could have happened to have changed him so much. He ran over to us, trying not to crease his clean and tidy suit. “P-” I used to call him Papa back in the day, but I had changed since then, “Father!” I shouted back,

“Papa! Papa!” Toddan jumped up and down and waved his hands, it was funny, because I had a feeling that Toddan would barely even remember his father, but he didn’t seem as apprehensive or as worried as I was. Father ran up to us and gave Toddan a giant hug and then put his arms around him; I had remembered him being so much larger than me, and, he still was quite big, but he no longer towered over me like I remember him doing, he was warm though; that mattered a lot, he shielded me from the cold sea air. *** The train was scary, even more so than the ship that I sailed in; it hurtled through the countryside at a blistering speed, I looked out the window in awe looking at the surprisingly familiar scenery, I wondered if I would maybe see an orchard or something of that nature in the landscape as I passed by; maybe I would see some animals like the ones Mr Hinds had described, sheep maybe, disconcertingly, all I could see was plain yellow marsh landscapes; however I kept looking out in hope. Toddan was eagerly listening to father talk about this and that, I was glad he wasn’t upset, because I wasn’t in the mood to cheer him up; I overheard my father mention how trains worked, apparently it was steam, and pressure, or something of that sort, he assured us both that it was very safe and very sturdy, however the idea of the vehicle being a giant kettle only worried me more. “Ain’ yu ‘cited Tee? C’mon, dere so much to do in London, yu lucky to be ‘ere! Yu’ll ‘ave a lotta fun,” father exclaimed, I didn’t reply for a moment, I wished he would call me Cynthia, because I felt I had come of age enough to be addressed in such a mature way, for a short moment, I almost wanted to be called Helen, because finally all the elements that she was made up of had become one in to me. “I don’t want to have fun though, I came here to learn and be successful.” I said slightly coldly, that reminded me of the time when I said something extremely similar to my teacher many years ago when the idea of “recess” bewildered me, but I didn’t want to end up bitter like my teacher, bitter about being a failure instead of a big successful lawyer. “Ah Tee, if yu wanna live life ‘ere comftably, yu’ll havta learn to ‘cept everyting de city throws at yu; dere be a lotta tings yu will ‘ave to get used to ‘fore yu can put dem roots down.” My father’s usage of colloquial English hadn’t changed, it felt rather weird for me to be more well spoken than my own father, I had no feeling of superiority however, more so simple estrangement, I could sense a cultural gap already. Who would be the first person I meet to talk with proper English to me? Maybe one day I’ll hear someone say the word “nincompoop” I

remembered hearing that bizarre word back in school, perhaps it was more commonly used in Britain. “But I lived with Auntie Beatrice, and she looked like she was from England, and I went to a good school with a scholarship. Also I’ve read lots and lots of books and heard lots of stories, so I know what its like here.” My father sighed. “Tee… yu ‘ave lot to learn.” I looked away back to the scenery again, there was a certain scale and grandeur to it which deep in my heart I had already felt familiar with; the rocking of the train and the sweet scenery slowly sent me into a brief sleep. *** London was full of sights and sounds I found hard to take in all at once, we got off at Waterloo to be greeted with a sight of hundreds of fair skinned people, all walking around with suits and briefcases; the sky was gloomy, it looked like it was about to rain, no-one had ever mentioned things like this to me; there were so many noises to be heard, it was so loud; I was used to people talking rather loudly and being brash when I was living with Tantie, but it wasn’t the same, here it felt like there were a million sounds hitting me at once, their footsteps alone created sounds which hovered and clustered around in the air. We were sat on the side of the road waiting for a cab to appear; I noticed a family walk by, one middle aged woman, rather skinny and pale, one stout and lazy eyed man, and three rather spoiled looking daughters, they sat down at the bench of the station waiting for the train to arrive; of course the reason I looked at them was because they reminded me of Auntie and her family; however they looked rather close and comfy together, quite unlike my Auntie, that made me feel better, I was sure I was right in thinking that London would be an opening to a world similar and superior to the middle class upbringing I had with her. I kept on staring until one of the girls noticed, she looked at me worriedly and tugged at her mother’s coat; at that point I looked away and tried not to listen to what she said. But I could heard words like: “don’t stare honey” and “they’re normal people just like us”. And I wasn’t sure what to think of what she said, was it good or was it bad? Toddan was smiling, I kept wondering why he was so content after hours moaning and crying on the boat and making such a racket the day before leaving. He ate a chocolate bar father bought for him at the newsagents stand, his eyes were constantly fixated on our father as he struggled

to get a taxi. More fair skinned people walked by, I wondered what could possibly be in their briefcases, possibly important papers about the economy and politics and the like; Britain ruled the world according to what I had heard, it was not hard to believe, and all those books I read said similar things. I supposed that I was actually surrounded with a lot of powerful and important people. I wasn’t scared by this thought, more so filled with a feeling of aspiration and hope; I had many dreams the nights after I found out I was coming to Britain, many which I had hopes of coming true. Father came back with some chips, they were marinated in foul smelling Vinegar and dashed with thousands of gains of salt; I had never bothered imagining what chips were like, I’m glad I didn’t, I had a feeling I wouldn’t be sorely disappointed, Toddan enthusiastically gobbled them up. “Don’t they sell apples here?” I asked my father as he handed me a small cone filled with those plump yellow monstrosities. *** I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me; my image of London felt so much more real that what I could sense with my eyes, ears and nose. My dad lived in a flat at a place called Brixton, I had never heard of it; he was out of a job now, but he told me he had saved up a lot of money working in an oil rig, and made helpful friends and contacts, he told me that he worked hard and managed to make enough money to support me; but I wasn’t sure how much he was telling the truth, I wondered if working at an oil rig really paid so much money, and who these friends and contacts were. I was lying in my bed on my own, I told my father I was not feeling well and left to be by myself; I didn’t know where Toddan was at that time; it was about five thirty and the sun was already going down, I suddenly realised how tired I was, I was woken up so abruptly on the train. My small under furnished room was glowing a warm bright red from the sinking sun that shone through the window, I yawned and shut my eyes. With my eyes shut, my thoughts started to cultivate, memories and feelings started to flood into my mind, I could smell tea, someone must have come over. I wondered if I’d ever smell the smell of Jonkanoo Shrimp or toasted Roti again, and I wondered if I even missed it. I wondered if I would have “Curls away” one of these days, whatever they were, or if I would meet a great British poet, if I’d become a lawyer like Mr Hinds wanted to be; but what if I ended up being alienated and alone like Beatrice ended up being? I wished I had gotten to England before, I wished I had more time and opportunity to get to experience the place first hand, there was so much I wanted to do and learn, and there was so much I was unsure of. I slowly opened my tearful eyes, the blurry image of the walls of the room felt like they were closing in on me. I felt sick.