CHAPTER THREE

Sean's head was pounding and the pain was slowly becoming intolerable, but he mentally pushed it away like so many other things in his life. Drinking too much liquor on an almost empty stomach came with its consequences, and to top it off Abigale was mad as a hornet at him. He knew she was hurt, but what else could he do? He wished at times that he had never taken on the family mantle.

Being the eldest child had its disadvantages. If he was honest, he did not really have a choice. Some people might disagree with him and say otherwise, but apart from him, who else would have been able to take the lead? It was handed to him. He did not have a say in the matter at the time. After his Pop died, he was next in line.

After disposing of the insect, Sean trudged to the sink which he had built with his own hands. The pipe was made with some old copper, bamboo, plastic, and wires. After opening it, he had to wait for a few seconds for the pipe head to sputter. The water started trickling slowly into the sink.  He washed his hands, closed it, then placed an empty bucket under it to collect the drip.

Sighing, Sean straightened and grabbed the only clean kitchen towel on the rack and wiped his hands, silently reminding himself to make some time this weekend to fix the pipe and do some of the much needed repairs around the place.

At thirty-eight Sean was a handsome man with short curly black hair complemented by his rich brown skin; and a tall lanky physique standing at over six feet three. His eyes were honey-dewed in color, which was further accentuated by his high cheek bones. He was a quiet individual who did not say much and kept to himself.

Walking to the front door of the small hut where he lived with his family, he pushed it open for ventilation.

The interior of the house was warm this morning, unlike most days, which were chilly. Maybe the heat generated from his body was due to the amount of alcohol he had consumed last night. Dragging a callused hand across his face, he realized he was perspiring profusely. A few drops of sweat fell across his face and he could feel the t-shirt clinging to his back; his body was trying to get rid of the toxins already. He stooped and placed a piece of wood at the bottom of the door to prevent it from banging as he welcomed the morning breeze. It looked like breakfast was on him this morning since Abigale and the children were still in bed and he had to get to work early. He loved starting his day before the sunrise, just as his Pop used to. A man got so much done before the day really began, he used to say.

Sean loved his home; he was born and raised in the small community of Larouse. Nestled on a hill between two fishing villages, Larouse had a population of sixty people, inclusive of children. Farming was the main way of life, with the men as the main breadwinners. The women were homemakers, but most of them assisted their husbands or partners on the farms. Fresh fruits, vegetables, and ground provisions were in abundance. No one went hungry. They bartered and shared their goods and supplies. Sean saw it as a huge extended family. To the outsider they might seem like an uneducated and humble clan, but this was far from the truth. They were a proud lot, some of them were so set in their ways that they had difficulty embracing change, whilst others were just plain stubborn and did not easily accept help from outsiders unless it was utterly necessary.

More than one quarter of the people in the community was educated. Sean was one of the educated few. He spent a year in the city going to school. His father had made certain of that. Although his Pop was illiterate, he was a wise man and he saw the importance of an education. He had spent a small fortune on him, God bless his heart. After the year was over, Sean had returned to the place he called home. There was no way he could survive in the city. He felt so restricted, unable to be himself or be free. Also, he had to buy everything. If he wanted a bunch of ripe bananas, a mango or breadfruit, he could not go in his backyard or ask a neighbor but had to spend.

Life in the city was a bustle. The people were always on the move, like a non-stop train. They did not have time for their children or each other. He could not see himself settling down and making a life there. He did not regret his decision one bit, no way jose. At times life in the country could dampen a man’s spirit, but he had learnt that as one went through life, challenges would always be present.

Pulling himself out of his reverie, Sean placed some water on the coal pot to boil, then went about preparing his dékouché. He quickly tossed the hot roasted dasheen from the searing coals into his enameled flask. The meal was completed with sardines and leftovers from last night’s meal. Closing the lid tightly and trapping the warmth within, Sean placed it in his knapsack. He quickly drank a cup of coffee, beat some eggs, gobbled them raw to clear off the hangover, and placed the dirty dishes on the kitchen table. Dressing in his garden wear, which had seen too many washes, along with his work boots, he exited the room. His day had begun.