Martine - Part 11

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In case you missed the first part of Martine, click here to catch up.

"Big Brother!!!"

One moment, Alain was standing on the doorstep of the Carter household, the next he found Sophie plastered to his front, squeezing him to death. Bianca was leaning on the side wall, she rolled her eyes then went tin the direction of the kitchen, mumbling something he couldn't hear.

"I'm guessing your parents told you, Sophie," Alain said, patting her awkwardly.

"Yep," Sophie released him, grabbing Alain's hand and dragging him into the house. "Maman, Dad, guess who's here." She called out as they entered the kitchen.

"Alain, of course, who else would be here?" James said, smiling at them from the refrigerator. "Bianca told me you gave him quite a greeting. Sorry about that Alain, but she does that to all the relatives. Well, with the exception of Great Aunt Geenie."

"Yeah, she's on the fragile side, plus it's hard to give a good hug to someone in a wheel chair," Sophie piped in.

"It's okay, Mr. Carter, Sophie, I'll just have to get used to it," Alain said, giving Sophie a side hug.

"Does that mean you're going to be a part of our...."

"Sophie, can you give me a hand in the dining room, " James interrupted, "you too, Bianca," he proceeded to to herd the girls out of the kitchen. "Oh and Alain, call me James, Mr. Carter is a bit formal for the father of your sisters." He patted Alain on the back and exited the kitchen.

Martine - Part 10

 

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The girls found their mother in the living room, sitting on the couch. She beckoned them to sit on either side of her. She took a deep breath and began to tell Sophie and Bianca the truth.

"When I was about two years older than Bianca, I moved to a small town in France with my Aunt Josephine. I was one of three black students in my school and it was hard making friend as the local kids grew up among each other. It was hard being a new kid, then a boy a year older that me befriended me. At first, we were just friends, but then we became more."

Although she was talking to her daughters, Martine was staring ahead as though she was looking into the past, "He took me to my first concert, we went to the seaside during the summer. We became intimate and it was my first time. I was so in love with Pierre," Martine sighed.

"I missed my first period and I thought it was because of stress. When I missed my second one, I got married, so I took a bus to a town two towns away. I found out I was pregnant, I was scared but happy. I was carrying Pierre's child. I returned home and went straight to him. I told Pierre that he was going to be a father. He grew angry, he said awful, mean things. He said he didn't love me, he only wanted to sleep with a black girl because he wanted to see how it was different. Plus he questioned if the baby was his," a tear streaked down Martine's cheek.

Martine - Part 9

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"So what happened, yesterday?" It was Sunday morning and James and Martine were still in bed, but they had been away for about half an hour.

"Well, he came about an hour after you guys left, he hadn't eaten so I made him breakfast and then we moved into the living room and we had a good, long talk," Martine responded. "I gave him the options of being in our life or just me being in his life."

"And?"

"I didn't want to pressure him for an answer, so I invited him for dinner tonight. I told him he can tell me what he decides then. Are you sure you are okay with this?" Martine had been lying on her back and turned to look at James. After being married for fourteen years, she could tell when he was lying.

James turned to look her in her eyes, he reached out and caressed her jawline. He looked at her as though  he was seeing her for the first time, "Martine, I am more than okay with it, in fact, it would be nice to have another man around. I won't feel so overwhelmed by all of your feminine charms."

Martine - Part 8

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Just as Martine was settling into her favourite chair in the living room, pressing play on the DVD remote control, the door bell rang. She groaned as she got up, deciding to let the trailers play while she got rid of the person at the door. This was her fist Saturday alone at home, James had taken the girls to the mall and they had planned to take in a movie. She had the DVD of a movie that she had been meaning to see, her favourite snacks and her comfy pajamas. Nothing and nobody was going to disturb her day.

When she opened the door, all the irritation melted from her face. On the doorstep stood Alain, his face gaunt, he had shadows under his eyes, it looked like he hadn't shaved in days and his clothes were rumpled. To add to the tragic scene, it had started to rain. He looked so sad and it broke Martine's heart.

Martine - Part 7

 

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Although Martine had planned to talk to Alain after class on Friday, she had hoped on seeing him before. Perhaps in the halls or crossing the courtyard but she never did, so she patiently waited for Friday.

Friday came, but no Alain, she kept hoping he would be running late and would slip in during the class. As the class ended, Martine kept wondering where he son was, if he was okay.

By the time she got home, she had conceded that the ball was in Alain's court. If he want to talk, he knew where to find her.

"Hi honey, how did it go?" James asked when Martine entered the kitchen. Whatever he was cooking smelled good and she couldn't resist looking in the pot.

"Yum, this looks good, do you need me to make anything?"

"Martine, how did it go?" he asked again, putting the cover back on the pot and looking his wife in the eyes.

Martine - Part 6

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James found Martine in the kitchen washing the last of the dishes. Her back was to him but he could tell that she was conflicted. The muscles in her back were tense and every now and then she would reach up to massage her shoulders.

"It didn't go well, did it?" he asked, coming up behind her, massaging her tense shoulders.

"I explained why I couldn't keep him, but all he would say is he needed me," Martine sighed. "Why can't he see that it was better that he lived with the Bouviers?" she turned to her husband for an answer.

"Was it really better, Martine?"

"Yes! Look at him, he came out to be a good, young man. I don't think I could have done such a good job on my own," Martine replied.

"Martine, you know your side of this, but have you ever tried to see his? Tell me, were there a lot of black people in your little town?" James asked sitting on one of the kitchen stools.

Martine - Part 5

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For the first time since that morning, mother and son were all alone, and a nervous silence descended over them. It was broken by Alain, nervously plunking keys, experimenting with a melody.

"What is that you are playing?" Martine asked.

 

"A little something I've been composing," he replied. "You didn't answer my question earlier."

"Why did I let you go?" Martine sighed. "Where do I begin? Basically, I was young and I would not have been able to give you the life you deserved. You deserved a mother and a father, not to wrry if you would eat that day, to have a roof over your head, warm clothes in the winter and opportunities I could not give you. Alain, Your life would have been so hard if I kept you."

"But I would have been with you," he whispered. He stopped playing and turned fully to Martine, "Do you know how hard it was to be the odd one out? Not being black, not being white, then when I go home, my parents not knowing how to console me. I wanted, I needed to see someone who looked like me. I wanted you."

Martine - Part 4

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When Martine walked into the living room, she found it was dimmed with only the lamp by the piano on. Sophie sat on the floor on her favourite pillow and Bianca sat on one of the armchairs. Alain sat at the piano and James sat on the coach. She placed the tray on the coffee table and doled out the mugs to her family, then she curled up next to James, sipping her coffee.

Seeing that everyone was settled and their attention was on him, Alain began to play a lively tune. "This was my favourite song to play when I was younger. It always made me feel happy when I felt sad and lonely," he said. It was so lively that Sophie started clapping in time.

When that song ended, they all applauded their dinner guest who started to play a new song. This song was a bit more somber and before long, James and Martine recognized it as "God Bless The Child" by Billie Holiday. Martine looked at her daughters and then at Alain who was staring at her as he played. "God bless all my children," she thought as she smiled at her son.

Martine - Part 3

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On the other side of the front door, Sophie found a tall man with a fair complexion that reminded her of her best friend Joanne who had a black father and a white mother. The man had full lips and a straight nose and he looked very nervous.

"Hi! You must be Alain, Maman's student. I'm Sophie. Come in," she said moving to the side so Alain could enter the foyer.

As he crossed the threshold, a tall man with dark skin entered from a room on the left, an equally dark teenage girl came in from a room on the right.

Martine - Introduction

 

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I've been meaning to post this story I wrote for a long time, but I never really got around to it. Actually, I posted the first part some time back but never continued. It came to me one day while I was at work and since it was a quiet day, I wrote it out. It became a daily thing and I reached a point where I didn't know how to continue. I have a vague idea of what will happen, but I haven't sat down and let it flow.

The premise of the story so far is a French woman of African descent is confronted by her biracial son who she gave up for adoption. She now resides in the United States, is married, has two girls and is a French professor at a community college. The story takes a look at secrets coming to light and the pain that comes from when two people not being able to see the other person's point of view.

Like most of my work, this doesn't feel like it's mine. It's more like a story that comes from somewhere else. Some people would say it's from God or from a muse, I don't really know. All I can say is I feel honoured to be the vessel through which these delightful and thought provoking poems and stories can come through.

Check back next Friday and every Friday for Martine (this is just a working title, mind you). I hope you enjoy it and don't forget to comment.