Chapter Four – True Beginnings
'Home is where your story begins' ~ Annie Danielson
Aunt Lynette finished the last bite of her crumpet and sipped her coffee for better digestion. She began, 'I have known Chan since we were children.' As Aunt Lynette commences her story, Alissa's turned her chair leaned forward, her elbows on her knee with her face in her hands. The historical events begin.
'Lyn, Lyn, watch me,' the cries of a seven-year-old boy desperate to gain her attention. Moving about, unable to stay still, as his kite made of thin starched silk cloth, continue to elevate through the air.
'You're stupid; stop calling me; I don't like you, leave me alone, go away.' Lynette pokes out her tongue while holding onto her friend Brittany. Lynette focused on finding her friend felt interrupted while playing hide and seek with her two friends, Marjorie and Brittney. Brittney didn't want to continue as she appeared more interested in this little boy and his skills. Lynette pulls her away and said, 'Come one, Brittney, we need to find Marjorie.'
Chan and Lynette attended the same Catholic Primary school, She, too seven years old, shy but assertive. Mandarin was Lynette's native Chinese language and although Spanish is the second mandatory language in Jamaica within the larger Chinese communities, taking Mandarin was available to all the pupils who attended the school.
It was 1950, on the Caribbean Island of Jamaica. And the Island was still under British rule. Two years previous, a significant event for Jamaicans took place where Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth11, then the Queen of Jamaica, began to invite Citizens of Jamaica to migrate to England to live and work with the idea that these migrants would help rebuild Britain after World War 2.
She recalls we always appeared to attend the same community events. When I saw Chan coming to say hello, I would give him an intense wide-eyed stare and turn my back, hoping he would stop and turn back, but he still strolled across the room to say hello. My family admired the fact he would come over even though I rejected him every time. They praised and complimented him, and that made him more determined. My brother Roderick used to tease me, and I was not too fond of that.
Chapter Five – The Etiquette Ball
I only saw his shadow, but I could hear what he said, 'Sir, I am Chan, and I would like to ask if I could be your sister's partner for today and have your permission to introduce her to my Aunt Miah. 'Yes, I've seen at our cultural events, but why don't you ask her yourself? Roderick said, and Chan shook his head frantically. No Sir, she is going to say no'. They both looked over at me, and Roderick had a cheeky grin. He said, 'Don't know if you'll get a better offer, sis.' He then looked back at Chan and said, 'And he seems pretty decent to me.' I could see from that moment, Roderick admired Chan and felt a high level of seniority by his approach. Being called Sir and asked for his permission? He loved it!
I paused as if I had to think about it, but inside I was screaming yes, yes, yes! With my brows pulling in, I then said, 'OK,' in a tone that said you'd not given me much choice, but I was overjoyed, thinking my dress would now be the centre of attention. Without anyone noticing I looked above and whispered ‘Thank you.’
Chan offered his hand with a bow, and I pleasantly reached out my hand and nodded all parts of our etiquette training. I thought nothing more.
Chan had a firm grip for a 13-year-old, but I also thought all that kite flying was proving useful. He held my waist. The contours of the wooden floor felt perfect as I tip-toed like a ballerina. We swayed across the room as no one else mattered. It felt surreal, and I now understood Cinderella's feelings while dancing with the Prince.
All I could hear was the surrounding whisperers, smiles, and glimpse some unpleasant stares from girls who wanted to be me, but with a satisfying grin, head held high and conscious of my dress swaying around my calves. I imagined being on the front cover of my favourite Mills and Boon novel. It was surreal.
Chapter Seven – The Departure
The day arrived, and I remember vividly, it was Wednesday, July 29, 1959; I was 16 years old, one month before my 17th Birthday.
My sister Rosie seemed most affected by my departure than anyone else, and although she was expecting to join me in 2 years, all I saw and heard for the last week before my departure was sniffing, a puffy face, and red eyes. I did not speak to her much as I needed to keep strong. But I heard her voice breaking each time someone asked how she was coping, and I wished they’d stop.
On my departure, she refused to come to the Airport and gave me my last hug expressionless and lacked eye contact. When I glanced back to share my final wave, I saw her crouched down on the front steps hugging herself.
Aunt Lynette paused as she recalled this episode. She let out a heavy sigh as tears rolled down her face. Then she continued. And I became motionless.
Rosie and Chan were my worlds. A part of my physical and emotional body was being torn away and buried; only a fraction of me was leaving.
Chan came to join us at the Airport and bought a small gift. His bloodshot eyes pierced my heart, and as he held and placed it into my hand, he began blowing out a series of short breaths to gain control. I knew his pain; I was feeling it too. So much so, when it was time to board the plane, I couldn’t look at Chan to say goodbye.