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Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780802139009 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Grove/Atlantic, Inc. |
| Publication date: | 05/15/2002 |
| Edition description: | Reprint |
| Pages: | 224 |
| Product dimensions: | 5.50(w) x 8.25(h) x (d) |
Read an Excerpt
Chapter One
My Grandmother's Tale of the Buried Treasure and
How She Defeated the King of Chacachacari and the
Entire American Army with Her Venus-Flytraps
Yes, that is a story! It's a very good story that I can tell you if you want, but Johnny, don't tell nobody I told you that thing that is a very bad story, like you mummy and daddy. A very good bad story that is one of my best, and you know that it's a true story, because there you hold the brick in you hand — look, almost all the gold has rubbed off over the years — and it happened right here on this island of Corpus Christi, many many years before you were born. It happened in a place up in the north of the island, at the tip tip of the — how do you call it? — of the peninsula that is on the side of Venezuela, in a place called Chaguarameras. And it was in this place that I had the cocoa estate, that is to say in Spanish, chagua, which means 'farmingland', rameras, which means 'prostitutes', the Farmingland of Prostitutes that they took away from me to make the American Base during the war.
Because at that time of the war I was already a widow of several years. I was left that cocoa estate by you granddaddy there in the photograph, Bartolomeo Amadao Domingo Domingo — the one they used to call Barto — because he died when you daddy was very young, and I was still a young woman with nine boys and one girl and Yolanda's daughter too. Because when she died of course I had to take back Inestasia, and I took Yolanda's daughter Elvirita on top.So I tried to give away one and I got back two, but don't mind, because at that time I was a young woman, and strong, and beautiful, you hear? Young and beautiful just like you mummy there, with beautiful hair and skin and beautiful tot-tots that didn't used to fall down, and beautiful beautiful teeth I used to have, big and white like pearls!
So it was in this place called Chaguarameras that I had the cocoa estate, and we used to ship cocoa all over the world. Big big estate, you know? So big you could never see from this side to that, and they used to say it was bigger than a hundred acres, but nobody knew for sure. And we used to have bananas, and chickens, and goats and all kinds of things, and we used to export copra from the coconuts, but the main thing was cocoa. We used to have the little house there, and when Barto was still alive we would go for excursions on weekends, and pack up the children and drive to this estate that was only twenty-five miles away, but in those days it was two, three hours driving in a motorcar from St Maggy where we were living.
We used to like to go especially for the cocoa harvest. That was the time of festival at Chaguarameras they used to call to 'Dance the Cocoa'. You see, when the pods ripened and turned all purple and rosy, and they picked them to crack them open to take out the beans, the beans would have that white fuzz stuck up all over. So they would spread out the cocoa on the big platforms with wheels to roll them in the sun every day to dry. But before the beans could dry they had to take off that white fuzz. So everybody would pull off the shoes and roll up the pantaloons to go on top the platforms to dance, that the fuzz could stick to they feet and between they toes. But the thing about the fresh-picked cocoa beans now, was that when you stood up hard and pounded you feet it didn't make no noise a-tall, but only the soft soft little sound that you could hardly hear, like poe poe poe. So when the festival started everybody was drinking rum, and eating roti, and playing music and thing, and Kitchener — not the Lord Kitchener of today, but the father, that was a young boy then — Kitchener even made a calypso of that fête yes, with all of us jumping up first thing to sing and dance like this:
| Hello Mister Barto, I'm coming to Chagua-ramo! It's there to dance the co-coa, and make me feet cry poe ... po poe-poe pa-tee poe ... poe! poe-poe pa-tee poe ... poe! |
Sweet heart of Jesus! I can't hardly pick up the old feet again! What a thing eh, when you get old? I'd best sit down quick before the legs break off! Ninety-six years, you know? What a thing! But the head is still good, and the blood is not so yellow, and the wrinkles are not so bad for an oldwoman that has been a widow over sixty years. You see what is life? Ten children and I'm not dead yet, thank the lord. In truth, I don't know what Papa God will give me to kill me yes, because I've never been cut by no doctor — even though I made eight of them myself — and never stitched, that the one time I was chopping patatas and this little piece of the finger went on the ground like that, I just picked it up and pushed it back together and the flesh stuck, that you daddy always says would defy medical science. And I have him to take care of me and bring me here to you house, so I could have my little room with all the grands, and great-grands, and all the great-great-grandchildren coming to visit me and shouting down the place at all hours of the day and night!
So where I was now? Oh yes, so at that time I had this estate that they took away from me to make the American Base. But when Barto was still alive it was still the cocoa. And we used to drive to Chaguarameras almost every weekend to see about the affairs of the cocoa and things, but the main reason was because that was the time when Barto had gone crazy to fight the cocks. Crazy crazy for that cock-fighting business, you hear? And we had plenty roosters, and a Venezuelan named Toy Mushu that he brought from Caracas to train the birds. Barto had the best in all Corpus Christi, and the men would come from Venezuela and Columbia and all over the place to Chaguarameras to fight they cocks against Bambolina, that was the best cock Corpus Christi had ever seen. Beautiful beautiful rooster, you hear? With bright bright eyes, and the wrinkles hanging just like this, and the headdress red red, and that was toenails, papa-yo! Because at that time they didn't have so much cockfighting in Corpus Christi again, except what they had in the mountains and in the bush, but Chaguarameras was too far out in the country then to worry the police. They used to say Barto bought that estate only to fight he cocks that was he passion. And something might be true in that, because that was before the time of the prostitutes — Barto liked to play the sagaboy, you know? — and in truth, we didn't used to make so much money from the copra and cocoa.
Because at that time Chaguarameras was still called Chaguaramos, that is to say, the Farmingland of Flowers. You see, when the cocoa made the flowers they would be covered all over with yellow and very pretty, and that was why they called it so to start. And it was just so the estate remained with the flowers and not the prostitutes for several years after Barto died. I had the overseer there that we used to call On-the-Eggs! and he had lived there on that estate all he life. And On-the-Eggs! took care of everything, because who was I at that time but a young woman and very beautiful who knew all about cattle from living on the ranch in Venezuela from a little girl, but didn't know a fart about cocoa. So On-the-Eggs! looked after that estate, and he used to send me the little few dollars that came from the cocoa every month to St Maggy, and it was that money that went to feed the children and send them to school.
So when the war started now the English brought the Americans — because at that time Corpus Christi was still belonging to them — so the English brought the Americans to look for lands. The Americans didn't have no interest in oil that Corpus Christi had plenty, but only looking for lands lands lands to build a Base for they soldiers. And it was the English Lawyer for the Crown that came to me — with the Yankee soldiers standing up behind him listening — and he said that I would have to give up my estate for the efforts of the war. The Lawyer for the Crown said my cocoa estate was the best place for the Americans to build they Base, because it had the deep water right beside to bring in the ships, and for the time of the war the estate would belong to them. But Johnny, the truth that I only found out after was how the English had already exchanged my land for forty-five old broken-down battleships in a kind of agreement they called a 'land-lease treaty', so the English could have all those old ships for they famous fleet. But what the Lawyer for the Crown told me was that nobody wouldn't have no money until after the war. When that time came the Americans would pay the English for the value of my estate, and then the English would turn around and pay me, but not until the war finished I wouldn't see no money a-tall. The Lawyer said that if I didn't accept this, then the only thing for me to do was to fight the Queen that was Elizabeth the Segunda one, and I said that I have never fought no Queen before in all my life, and I'm not going to start now.
And so it happened that the Americans took away that estate and they knocked down the cocoa and coconut trees and all the rest to make that Base for they soldiers. And then when the Americans arrived the prostitutes only came following behind. Let me tell you every whorewoman in Corpus Christi descended straight away on that place, and so too again half the whores in Venezuela crossed the sea in saltfish-crates, and cigar-boxes, and whatever else they could find to get at those American soldiers fast enough, because it's true what they say that, the Yankees would pay any amount of money because they don't have no sex in America, and that is why the Americans only like to fight wars.
So now you have the history of how Chaguaramos came to be called Chaguarameras,
The Farmingland of Prostitutes
* * *
Well then, the war had continued so for a good time already that I had long ago forgot all about Chaguarameras. Then one day I was making pastelles in the kitchen and I heard somebody come pounding down the door of the little house I had there on Mucurapo Road that Barto left me with. Amadao came running to the kitchen — he was only a young boy eleven or twelve years like you then — Amadao came running to say that it was Ali Baba or some genie so at the door. I told Amadao that I didn't know no genie, and if it was Ali Baba in truth all he had to say was 'Open up Sesame!' or some nonsense like that, and those hinges would fall off the door in one. Amadao went and came back again saying that it wasn't Ali Baba, it was the King of Chacachacari that 'would wish to speak to the madame of this fine house'. I told Amadao I'd never before heard of no Chacachacari and if the person at the door didn't stop playing the fool, I would mix up the boil coocoo in he panties and wrap up he cojones in a steamed banana leaf to make the next pastelle! So Amadao went and came back again to say the King of Chacachacari would wish to speak to the madame that was 'the proprietress of that farmery at Chaguarameras' — or something so —'concerning the matter of she duly deserved fortune'. Well! by this time I was vex too bad and ready to send Amadao to tell the King how the Yankees took Chaguarameras a long time ago — and the only cocoa that grew there now was cocoplumbs in the shape of bambams! — but then I decided I would go to the door and see who was this person skylarking like that.
When I reached at the door now I found this man dressed up like he was playing mas in Carnival. He had one big set of cloth wrapped up around he head like if somebody started to make a mummy and only reached by the ears. With a big ruby upon the forehead flashing, and earrings dangling, and rings rings rings, each with a jewel — diamonds and rubies and things — but not on the fingers, only on the little fatty toes! And I decided that those rings must have been made special for those dirty toes, because you've never seen such funny little things, only looking like shortie fat blood-puddings struggling to squeeze out the skins! But the strange thing now about this King was that even with all the jewels and paraphernalia he had, the only clothes he was wearing were dirty old dungarees, both the pantaloons and the shirt. And even so, the dirty old shirt — with every button gone — was tied up around he midriff with the big stomach spilling out, and a next maco ruby big as you fist like this, pushed up inside he bellyhole! It was like if these people didn't care what kind of clothes they put on once they feet and they belly were shining with jewels, because the King had some little baboo-boys there dressed only in what looked to me like diapers. Four of these little baboos were to carry the King around who was sitting in a kind of pirogue, or canoe, or something so, with the legs hanging down like he was making sure nobody missed the toes. With two more little baboos only to hold a palm leaf over the King's head for the sun not to shine, and five or six more behind with the big grey Samsonite suitcases that I decided must have the rest of the jewels and the dirty old dungarees and diapers.
By now the whole of Mucurapo had reached at my doorstep to see this King that nobody had never seen nothing like this before, not even on Jouvert morning! Then the King gave me that speech again that he gave Amadao about the 'proprietress and she duly deserved fortune', and he wanted to come inside, but I said not so a-tall was he bringing the whole of St Maggy inside my house and the pirogue and suitcases and everything so. The King said that it was only him that needed to come inside, and the one servant that he required for the King to sit on he back. Well! I answered the King that nobody sat on top nobody in my house, and he could come in if he wanted, but he had to behave heself and sit in a chair like he had manners.
So the King came inside, and when I told him that I must go and check on the pastelles I had boiling in the kitchen, he pushed a chups like if he didn't wait on nobody. But when I came back again the King was smiling ear-to-ear like if the chair ain't paining he soft bamsee no more, and now he started off to talk and talk and talk like he just ate parrot.
The King said that he had come from he country across the sea in search of the long lost treasure of Chacachacari. This treasure was forty-two bars of solid gold that the Spanish had stolen in the year 1776. So I asked the King — because I was a very smart woman, even then — that first of all, where was this Chacachacari that I had never heard nothing about it before? and what did this treasure have to do with me, a poor widow that didn't have nothing in the world? and then again this story was only smelling like toejam to me yes, because 1776 was the year the English took Corpus Christi and the rest of these islands from Spain, that they weren't worrying about nothing a-tall at that time except how to hold on to these islands that they owned.
'Ah-ha!' said this King now like if somebody was scratching he back. 'Precisely!' So I asked the King what did he mean by all these 'ah-has' and 'preciselies'. The King said to me that was precisely how the treasure of Chacachacari came to be buried at haguarameras. What the King said was that this Chacachacari island had belonged to Spain at that time too — that was the year of 1776 — that Spain was afraid to lose that island like all the rest. And that was how the Spanish ship, the one they called the María Estrella del Mar — and I remembered hearing about this ship from the history of Corpus Christi — that this María had stopped at Chacachacari on she way to defend Corpus Christi against the English, that in case they lost that Chacachacari too, at least they would still have the treasure.
So the King stopped now like if he'd already proven everything clean clean. He was sitting up straight in the chair like he wanted to jook he head through the roof, and he clapped he hands twice — bam bam — and just then one of the little baboo-boys came running with a map. 'You see, good madame,' said this King, 'you know as good as me that the Spanish ship, the María Estrella del Mar, was sunk by the English off the north coast of Corpus Christi, is that not correct?' And I told him that I thought so. 'Ah-ha!' said the King again smiling. 'Here I have a map that shows precisely without any questions the place where the treasure was buried by two Spanish soldiers that escaped that María Estrella when she was sinking down in the sea. And this map says the treasure was bury precisely on the approximate location of that farmery of which you are the sole proprietress!' So the King made a big show to snap open the map like this and he stretched it out across the table, and when I looked good I saw that in truth, right there where the red X was marked, was just where was Chaguarameras!
But as soon as I could catch my breath I told the King straight away — because I didn't want no bub-ball — that it wasn't me he had to consult with about that treasure, it was the American soldiers who took that estate away a long time ago to build they Base. So the King asked me if the Americans paid me any money for that land, and I said no, that they were waiting for the war to finish. The King went on with some more 'ah-has' now, and he said that therefore the Americans owned everything above the ground, but that I was still the rightful owner of everything below, and that was why the treasure still belonged duly to me. But I told the King I was not about to fight no American Army — not even for forty-two gold bricks! — and then again, that map was only saying that the treasure was buried somewhere near Chaguarameras, but it didn't tell me where was the place to dig. 'Well,' said this King, 'it is certainly clear to me that you are a very very intelligent woman and not foolheavy' — and I said yes, that is a fact — 'and therefore you will certainly see the wisdom of this proposition that I have for you.' Now the King clapped he hands again — bam bam — and a next little baboo-boy came running with a funny machine that looked like the vacuum cleaners they have now of days, except not so fat, and it was only blinking the lights and making funny noises.
Sweet heart of Jesus! When I saw this machine now I quick forgot all the questions I had for this King, because I was only watching at the lights and hearing the machine speak! The King asked me for some few coins, so I took out the little money that I used to keep between my tot-tots tied up in a kerchief, which was several of those big brown English coins that we were still using in Corpus Christi then. The King told me now to go and pitch them out the window as far as I could throw, and he would talk to he machine and find them, every one, but I said not so a-tall was I going to throw good money out the window for those people waiting outside to grab it up and run home before the King even got a chance to stand up out he chair, far less to start to talk to he machine! The King said that in truth he forgot about those people waiting outside, so for me to hide the coins all over the house, and the machine would tell him precisely where to find them. And so I did just that. Now the King started to talk to he machine, and in no time a-tall the King found out where was hidden every one of those coins, even the one I dropped in the chamberpot beneath my bed that still had in a little weewee from last night, that I didn't think nobody would think to look inside there! So when I saw this thing going on now inside my own house, I was ready to do anything the King told me.
What he said was for us to go first to the Americans and explain everything so there wouldn't be no bub-ball, and then we could start to look with he machine, and when we found the treasure divide it in half and take out the twenty-one bars each. But I told the King there wasn't no use for me to go quite to Chaguarameras because I had the children to take care of — and anyway I didn't speak the language of he machine so I wouldn't be no use to nobody a-tall — so for him to go and say to the Yankees that I had given him permission to look for that treasure, and when he found it he could take it out and bring it back here. The King seemed to like this plan good enough, and that was what he said he would do. So he took off one of the rings from he big toe — this was a diamond one — and he gave it to me to have 'for a gesture of good faith', as he said, and the King went and climbed back up in he pirogue and took off again down the road with the little baboo-boys toting him, and the whole of Mucurapo following behind like a band of jumbies on Old Year's Eve morning! So I stood up watching at all this commess now for a while, and when they disappeared around the corner I went back in the kitchen to finish seeing about the pastelles.
* * *
And it was almost a month that I didn't hear nothing more about the King — and I didn't think much good things about him neither — because when I took the ring to get the size changed to fit my finger, the man told me that as soon as he went to heat the metal the diamond melted like a jubjub beneath the sun! So after a time I forgot to remember the magic of that machine, and I began to think how that King ain't nothing more than a big pappyshow, and I probably wouldn't see him again if I'm lucky.
But just as I was telling myself this I looked out the window, and of course, here was he coming up the road with Mucurapo still following behind like they'd all walked clear to Chaguarameras and back. So the King came inside again — and he made sure he had he machine next to him blinking the lights and carrying on so — because the King knew good enough that when I started to watch at that machine I couldn't see nothing else, like a person dreaming with they eyes open that somebody has given them separina tea to drink. The King said now that the machine had told him precisely without any questions where was the place the treasure was buried, but of course, when I asked him to see the bars he told me something else.
The King said that just as he was starting to take out the treasure an angel came with big silver wings flapping all about, and the angel took away the shovel and threw him down on the ground, and he showed me the purple blow on he forehead where he got the knock. This angel told the King that he would never be able to take out that treasure until he and the widow made a sacrifice by burning ten-thousand dollars first, because you will both be multi-multi-multi-millionaires from all that gold!
But this story was smelling blanchyfoot to me yes, so now I decided to try to catch up this King in a good boldface lie. And as the saying goes, it takes one to grow one, and nobody could bake the cake better than me. So I asked the King how he knew it was an angel that knocked him down with the shovel? The King said because of the wings. Well then, was it a man or a woman angel, I asked. The King said that it was a man angel. But when I questioned him how he knew for sure, he said of course, as you very well know my good madame, angels don't wear no drawers — and I said yes, that was generally true — and the King told me that when the angel bent over he white robe slipped open a moment, and he saw the parts. So I asked for him please to specify, what parts was he talking about? Now the King got vex with he face red like a roukou and he said, 'Parts, the parts: two hairy coconuts and a big fat toe-tee hanging down between like a celestial silver sausage!' Now I told the King that was all I wanted to hear — so please to calm down and relax heself — and Johnny, now I knew not to believe nothing this King said, just as I'd already suspected. Because the truth, if you've ever seen an angel — and I have seen plenty in my time — the truth is that they all are smooth. But when I looked at that machine again blinking in the corner and talking like that, now I couldn't help myself from asking the King how was he to get this ten-thousand?
The King said that in Chacachacari they didn't have no money except for gold and beads and old teeth, and it was obvious none of those things burn too good — and I said yes, that was obvious enough — so then the only hope was for you to take out that money from the bank. So I asked the King how he knew what money I had, and he said the angel also told him that my husband, the one they used to call Barto, had left me ten-thousand dollars to send the boys to study medicine in Canada when they grew up. Well! right away I started to think, because nobody knew nothing a-tall about that money Barto left me with, nor what he said that I was to do with it. So I asked the King if he knew for sure it was a boy angel? The King said now that he come to think about it, the angel did flash a lightning bolt at him, so maybe he couldn't be sure what he saw — if it was a silver sausage or a doubles with golden channa inside or anything else — but he sure did know good enough what the fuck he heard.
So I told the King that I must think over this sacrifice business good, and for him to come back the next day to hear about my answer. The King said certainly, that I was a very intelligent woman and must weigh up all the consequences, and did I mind if he left he machine to stand up there so in the corner because it was very valuable, and sleeping in a tent like he did somebody might come in the night to thief it.
So that afternoon I was trying my best to decide about this sacrifice, and the whole time that machine was only winking and blinking at me and distracting me, that he didn't give me no chance to think. I even sprinkled on him the dust that I scraped off my forehead from Ash Wednesday, that they said would make anybody drop down in a deep sleep, but that machine only went on to talk and talk and talk just like he owner. So I told Amadao and you daddy to carry the thing outside and play with him to see if maybe they could make him find some more treasure, or maybe the instrument would get so tired he would drop asleep. Because in truth the only person of all of us there to understand anything of the language of that machine was you own daddy — that he had only reached to five or six years then, and just beginning to talk heself — with the two of them conversing and discussing very serious together sometimes for three hours at a stretch. Inestasia and Elvirita — they were the oldest of the children, about sixteen and seventeen then — they came in the parlour now to ask me what about this King and the treasure? So I told them the whole story of the sacrifice and everything to see what did they think. Of course, the first thing they said was that I must consult Uncle Olly — he was the brother of Barto's father and a professor of bones and rocks, and a very brilliant oldman — and I said of course that I had already sent word to him, and he was coming from San Fernando that evening to discuss all this business, but what did they think?
Well Elvirita didn't say much except to wait for Uncle Olly. But Inestasia now, she'd been holding this grudge against me such a long time, and she only started off straight away about how I was a very ignorant woman to give away every cent Barto left me with only for some cock-and-bull story about buried treasure, and she couldn't believe she had such a foolish and chupidee woman for she own mummy! But Inestasia was only using that King for an excuse to mamaguy me, because she never could understand, even though I explained it to her time and time again.
* * *
The Story of How She Gave Away
One and Got Back Two
You see, the story goes that when I was married in January of 1913 I was only seventeen years old, and I had Nevil in November. That was before I could even reach to eighteen. And Nevil was a beautiful child, you know? With curly curly rings in the hair, and bright eyes just like Barto's own, and good arms and legs running and jumping all about the place! But when he grew to eighteen months he got sick with a thing they had in Venezuela then — because at that time we were living in Venezuela, that Inestasia and Rodolfo and Reggie were all born in Venezuela, and the rest in Corpus Christi — they had this disease in Venezuela then called meningitis. So Barto and me sent to Caracas for the doctor to come as soon as the child grew sick, and this doctor had not observed Nevil five minutes before he called out, 'Señor Domingo, ven acá! Los sesos estrujan a este niño.' That is to say, 'he brains are squeezing him'. Then the doctor looked in the child's ears with he instrument and he saw the brains crawling out like a long worm from each one, and he said Nevil would be dead by next week.
So as soon as the doctor left I shaved off Nevil's hair to take out the pressure, and I pushed plasters made from cottonwool and cornstarch in he ears to try and hold in the brains, and I even pushed he head in boiling water to try to shrink them up, but nothing worked a-tall and the next night the child died. Well, I was feeling so distressed by this thing, that when Inestasia was born not long after, they had to take her away from me so I wouldn't throw her out the window. You see, I was desperate for a boy now to replace Nevil, and when I saw this girl I went crazy crazy and said that I wouldn't accept nothing to do with no child that was not a boy. But Papa God made me do enough penance for saying that yes, because he put eight boys on me straight away — bam bam bam — one after the next. That by the time I reached to you daddy I was crazy for a girl now, and I used to dress him up in little dresses and I grew out he hair in long blond curls reaching right down he back, but even that didn't help much and he almost drowned three times when I pitched him in the sea. So they had to look for somebody to take this Inestasia away, just as I was saying, because they knew good enough that I would pelt her through the window if they only gave me half a chance. So Yolanda — she was a Domingo too, and very much in the mind of the family — she said that she would take Inestasia up, so I sat down to write on a piece of paper:
I, María Rosa de la Plancha Domingo, do give to you forever this my daughter, Inestasia Rosa de los Cagones Domingo, that you, Yolanda Domingo Domingo, can have her and do with her whatever the ass you want and I will never take her away again so long as you can live.
(Continues...)
Table of Contents
| -1- My Grandmother's Tale of the Buried Treasure and How She | |
| Defeated the King of Chacachacari and the Entire American | Page 3 |
| -2- The Tale of How Crab-o Lost His Head including The Story | |
| of Hax the Butcher | Page 35 |
| -3- My Grandmother's Tale of the Kentucky Colonel and How | |
| They Made Their Fortune Selling Pizzas to the American | page 68 |
| -4- The Tale of How Iguana Got Her Wrinkles or The True Tale | |
| of El Dorado | page 120 |
| -5- Further Adventures of the Kentucky Colonel and the King | |
| of Chacachacari, and How My Grandmother Became a Disk-Jockey..page 146 |