Skin Folk (20 page)

“Make haste, woman,” Dry Bone snarl. “And keep under the trees, you hear? I want to get out from under the open sky.”

By the time them reach the thatch hut standing all by itself in the bush, Tan-Tan back did bend with the weight of all she
was carrying. It feel like Dry Bone get bigger, oui? Tan-Tan stand up outside she home, panting under the weight of she burdens.

“Take me inside, Tan-Tan. I prefer to be out of the air.”

“Yes, Dry Bone.” Wheezing, she climb up the verandah steps and carry he inside the dark, mean one-room hut, exactly the kind
of place where a worthless woman should live. One break-seat chair for sit in; a old ticking mattress for when sleep catch
she; two rusty hurricane lamp with rancid oil inside them, one for light the inside of the hut, and one for light outside
when night come, to keep away the ground puppy and mako jumbie-them; a dirty coal-pot, and a bucket full of stale water with
dead spider and thing floating on top. Just good for she. With all the nice things she steal from people, she ain’t keep none
for she self, but only giving them away all the time.

Dry Bone voice fill up the inside of she head again: “Put me on the mattress. It look softer than the chair. Is there I go
stay from now on.”

“Yes, Dry Bone.” She find she could put he down, but the weight ain’t lift from off she. Is like she still carrying he, a
heaviness next to she heart, and getting heavier.

“I hungry, Tan-Tan. Cook up that food for me. All of it, you hear?”

“Yes, Dry Bone.” And Tan-Tan pluck the fowl, and chop off the head, and gut out the insides. She make a fire outside the hut.
She roast the fowl and she boil water for topi-tambo root, and she bake a breadfruit.

“I want johnnycake, too.”

So Tan-Tan find she one bowl and she fry pan, and she little store of flour and oil, and she carry water and make dumpling
and put it to fry on the fire. And all she working, she could hear Dry Bone whispering in she head like knowledge: “Me know
say what you is, Tan-Tan. Me know how you worthless and your heart hard. Me know you could kill just for so, and you don’t
look out for nobody but yourself. You make a mistake when you pick me up. You pick up trouble.”

When she done cook the meal, she ain’t self have enough plate to serve it all one time. She had was to bring a plate of food
in to Dry Bone, make he eat it, and take it outside and fill it up again. Dry Bone swallow every last johhnycake whole. He
chew up the topi-tambo, skin and all, and nyam it down. He ain’t even wait for she to peel the roast breadfruit, he pop it
into he maw just so. He tear the meat from the chicken bone, then he crunch up the bone-them and all. And all he eat, he belly
getting round and hard, but he arms and legs only getting thinner and thinner. Still, Tan-Tan could feel the weight of he
resting on she chest till she could scarcely breathe.

“That not enough,” Dry Bone say. “Is where the fowl guts-them there?”

“I wrap them up in leaf and bury them in the back,” Tan-Tan mumble.

“Dig them up and bring them for me.”

“You want me to cook them in the fire?”

“No, stupid one, hard-ears one,” Dry Bone say in he sandpaper voice. “I ain’t tell you to cook them. I go eat them raw just
so.”

She own-way, yes, and stupid too. Is must be so. Tan-Tan hang she head. She dig up the fowl entrails and bring them back.
Dry Bone suck down the rank meat, toothless gums smacking in the dark hut. He pop the bitter gallbladder in he mouth like
a sea grape and swallow that too. “Well,” he say, “that go do me for now, but a next hour or two, and you going to feed me
again. It ain’t look like you have plenty here to eat, eh, Tan-Tan? You best go and find more before evening come.”

That is all she good for. Tan-Tan know she best be grateful Dry Bone even let she live. She turn she weary feet back on the
path to Duppy Dead Town. She feel the weight on she dragging she down to the ground. Branch scratch up she face, and mosquito
bite she, and when she reach where she always did used to find Duppy Dead Town, it ain’t have nothing there. The people pick
up lock, stock, and barrel and left she in she shame with Dry Bone. Tears start to track down Tan-Tan face. She weary, she
weary can’t done, but she had was to feed the little duppy man. Lazy, the voice in she head say. What a way this woman could
run from a little hard work! Tan-Tan drag down some net vine from out a tree and weave she-self a basket. She search the bush.
She find two-three mushroom under some rockstone, and a halwa tree with a half-ripe fruit on it. She throw she knife and stick
a fat guinea lizard. Dry Bone go eat the bones and all. Maybe that would full he belly.

And is so the days go for she. So Dry Bone eat, so he hungry again one time. Tan-Tan had was to catch and kill and gut and
cook, and she only get time to sneak a little bite for sheself was when Dry Bone sleeping, but it seem like he barely sleep
at all. He stretch out the whole day and night on Tan-Tan one bed, giving orders. Tan-Tan had to try and doze the long nights
through in the break-seat chair or on the cold floor, and come ’fore day morning, she had was to find sheself awake one time,
to stoke up the fire and start cooking all over again. And what a way Dry Bone belly get big! Big like a watermelon. But the
rest of he like he wasting away, just a skin-and-bone man. Sometimes, Tan-Tan couldn’t even self see he in the dark hut; only
a belly sticking up on the bed.

One time, after he did guzzle down three lizard, two breadfruit, a gully hen, and four gully hen eggs, Dry Bone sigh and settle
back down on the bed. He close he eyes.

Tan-Tan walk over to the bed. Dry Bone ain’t move. She wave she hand in front of he face. He ain’t open he eyes. Maybe he
did fall to sleep? Maybe she could run away now? Tan-Tan turn to creep out the door, and four bony fingers grab she round
she arm and start to squeeze. “You can’t run away, Tan-Tan. I go follow you. You have to deal with me.”

Is must be true. Dry Bone was she sins come to haunt she, to ride she into she grave. Tan-Tan ain’t try to get away no more,
but late at night, she weep bitter, bitter tears.

One day, she had was to go down to the river to dip some fresh water to make soup for Dry Bone. As she lean out over the river
with she dipping bowl, she see a reflection in the water: Master Johncrow the corbeaubird, the turkey buzzard, perch on a
tree branch, looking for carrion for he supper. He bald head gleaming in the sun like a hard boil egg. He must be feeling
hot in he black frock coat, for he eyes look sad, and he beak drooping like candle wax. Tan-Tan remember she manners. “Good
day to you, Sir Buzzard,” she say. “How do?”

“Not so good, eh?” Master Johncrow reply. “I think I going hungry today. All I look, I can’t spy nothing dead or even ready
to dead. You feeling all right, Tan-Tan?” he ask hopefully.

“Yes, Master Buzzard, thanks Nanny.”

“But you don’t look too good, you know. Your eyes sink back in your head, and your skin all grey, and you walking with a stoop.
I could smell death around here yes, and it making me hungry.”

“Is only tired I tired, sir. Dry Bone latch onto me, and I can’t get any rest, only feeding he day and night.”

“Dry Bone?” The turkey buzzard sit up straight on he perch. Tan-Tan could see a black tongue snaking in and out of he mouth
with excitement.

“Seen, Master Buzzard. I is a evil woman, and I must pay for my corruption by looking after Dry Bone. It go drive me to me
grave, I know, then you go have your meal.”

“I ain’t know about you and any corruption, douxdoux.” Johncrow leap off the tree branch and flap down to the ground beside
Tan-Tan. “You smell fresh like the living to me.” Him nearly big as she, he frock-coat feathers rank and raggedy, and she
could smell the carrion on he. Tan-Tan step back a little.

“You don’t know the wicked things I do,” she say.

“If a man attack you, child, don’t you must defend yourself? I know this, though: I ain’t smell no rottenness on you, and
that is my favourite smell. If you dead soon, I go thank you for your thoughtfulness with each taste of your entrails, but
I go thank you even more if you stay alive long enough to deliver Dry Bone to me.”

“How you mean, Master Crow?”

“Dry Bone did dead and rotten long before Nanny was a girl, but him living still. Him is the sweetest meat for a man like
me. I could feed off Dry Bone for the rest of my natural days, and him still wouldn’t done. Is years now I trying to catch
he for me larder. Why you think he so ’fraid the open sky? Open sky is home to me. Do me this one favour, nuh?”

Tan-Tan feel hope start to bud in she heart.

“What you want me to do, Master Crow?”

“Just get he to come outside in your yard, and I go do the rest.”

So the two of them make a plan. And before he fly off Master Johncrow say to she, “Like Dry Bone not the only monkey that
a-ride your back, child. You carrying around a bigger burden than he. And me nah want that one there. It ain’t smell dead,
but like it did never live. Best you go find Papa Bois.”

“And who is Papa Bois, sir?”

“The old man of the bush, the one who does look after all the beast-them. He could look into your eyes, and see your soul,
and tell you how to cleanse it.”

Tan-Tan ain’t like the sound of someone examining she soul, so she only say politely, “Thank you, Master Johncrow. Maybe I
go do that.”

“All right then, child. Till later.” And Master Buzzard fly off to wait until he part of the plan commence.

Tan-Tan scoop up the water for the soup to carry back to she hut, feeling almost happy for the first time in weeks. On the
way home, she fill up she carry sack with a big, nice halwa fruit, three handful of mushroom, some coco yam that she dig up,
big so like she head, and all the ripe hog plum she could find on the ground. She go make Dry Bone eat till he foolish, oui?

When she reach back at the hut, she set about she cooking with a will. She boil up the soup thick and nice with mushroom and
coco yam and cornmeal dumpling. She roast the halwa fruit in the coal pot, and she sprinkle nutmeg and brown sugar on top
of it too besides, till the whole hut smell sweet with it scent. She wash the hog plum clean and put them in she best bowl.
And all the time she work, she humming to sheself:

Corbeau say so, it must be so,

Corbeau say so, it must be so.

Dry Bone sprawl off on she bed and just a-watch she with him tiny jumby-bead eye, red with a black centre. “How you happy
so?”

Tan-Tan catch sheself. She mustn’t make Dry Bone hear Master Johncrow name. She make she mouth droop and she eyes sad, and
she say, “Me not really happy, Dry Bone. Me only find when me sing, the work go little faster.”

Dry Bone still suspicious, though. “Then is what that you singing? Sing it louder so I could hear.”

“Is a song about making soup.” Tan-Tan sing for he:

Coco boil so, is so it go,

Coco boil so, is so it go.

“Cho! Stupid woman. Just cook the food fast, you hear?”

“Yes, Dry Bone.” She leave off singing. Fear form a lump of ice in she chest. Suppose Dry Bone find she out?

Tan-Tan finish preparing the meal as fast as she could. She take it to Dry Bone right there on the bed.

By now, Dry Bone skin did draw thin like paper on he face. He eyes did disappear so far back into he head that Tan-Tan could
scarce see them. She ain’t know what holding he arms and legs-them together, for it look as though all the flesh on them waste
away. Only he belly still bulging big with all the food she been cooking for he. If Tan-Tan had buck up a thing like Dry Bone
in the bush, she would have take it for a corpse, dead and rotting in the sun. Dry Bone, the skin-and-bone man. To pick he
up was to pick up trouble, for true.

Dry Bone bare he teeth at Tan-Tan in a skull grin. “Like you cook plenty this time, almost enough for a snack. Give me the
soup first.” He take the whole pot in he two hand, put it to he head, and drink it down hot hot just so. He never even self
stop to chew the coco yam and dumpling, he just swallow. When he put down the pot and belch, Tan-Tan see steam coming out
of he mouth, the soup did so hot. He scoop out all the insides of the halwa fruit with he bare hand, and he chew up the hard
seed-them like them was fig. Then he eat the thick rind. And so he belly getting bigger. He suck down the hog plum one by
one, then he just let go Tan-Tan best bowl. She had was to catch it before it hit the ground and shatter.

Dry Bone lie back and sigh. “That was good. It cut me hunger little bit. In two-three hour, I go want more again.”

Time was, them words would have hit Tan-Tan like blow, but this time, she know what she have to do. “Dry Bone,” she say in
a sweet voice, “you ain’t want to go out onto the verandah for a little sun while I cook your next meal?”

Dry Bone open he eyes up big big. Tan-Tan could see she death in them cold eyes. “Woman, you crazy? Go outside? Like you want
breeze blow me away, or what? I comfortable right here.” He close he eyes and settle back down in the bed.

She try a next thing. “I want to clean the house, Master. I need to make up the bed, put on clean sheets for you. Make me
just cotch you on the verandah for two little minutes while I do that, nuh?”

“Don’t get me vex.” Tan-Tan feel he choking weight on she spirit squeeze harder. Only two-three sips of air making it past
she throat.

The plan ain’t go work. Tan-Tan start to despair. Then she remember how she used to love to play masque Robber Queen when
she was a girl-pickney, how she could roll pretty words around in she mouth like marble, and make up any kind of story. She
had a talent for the Robber Queen patter. Nursie used to say she could make yellow think it was red. “But Dry Bone,” she wheeze,
“look at how nice and strong I build my verandah, fit to sit a king. Look at how it shade off from the sun.” She gasp for
a breath, just a little breath of air. “No glare to beware, no open sky to trouble you, only sweet breeze to dance over your
face, to soothe you as you lie and daydream. Ain’t you would like me to carry you out there to lounge off in the wicker chair,
and warm your bones little bit, just sit and contemplate your estate? It nice and warm outside today. You could hear the gully
hens-them singing cocorico, and the guinea lizards-them just a-relax in the sun hot and drowse. It nice out there for true,
like a day in heaven. Nothing to cause you danger. Nothing to cause you harm. I could carry you out there in my own two arm,
and put you nice and comfortable in the wicker chair, with two pillow at your back for you to rest back on, a king on he own
throne. Ain’t you would like that?”