Chapter 19
The next day Saul got into his boat and made his way to Jamaica to call Angel. He would also pick up supplies from his relatives in Blue Mountain to begin building the extra room onto Pamela’s cottage. In trade he had chocolate that he’d made himself, baskets his villagers had made and non-alcoholic blueberry wine that only the Eastern Rahjahs made.
Intending to use his cell phone, he pulled it out of his pocket. It was dead. There was no way for him to charge it on the island, and to try and charge it now would have wasted valuable time. He walked into a shop owned by a friend of his and asked to use his phone. When he put the call through to Angel and explained the situation, she agreed, with reservations.
“I would love to come and talk with Raquel, Saul, but years ago when I had offered my services, I was told that the Rahjahs had their own therapists.”
“That you don’t live here does not detract from the fact that you are truly one of us, making you perfect for the job. The request came from Pam.”
Hearing Pamela’s name immediately sealed the deal. “I will be on the first flight. If it wasn’t for the Rahjahs I would not be as happy as I am today. Plus, I would do anything for Pam. I’ll be there before midnight. Give me your number and I will call you back with the details of my flight.”
He gave her the number and a half an hour later she called back with the details. “I’ll pick you up at the airport.” He rung off, borrowed a truck from his friend, loaded the supplies and made his way to Blue Mountain.
Taking a break from writing the history lessons that she’d promised her grandmother, Pamela stood on her verandah looking at the children playing hopscotch and flying kites. The twins spent so much time with her that she’d come to regard them as her own. The more time they spent with her, the more she saw Saul. First, it was an excuse for them to be together because he’d pretend to bring them to the village even though they knew their way and didn’t need a chaperone. Little by little he began spending more time with Pamela, doing things with her and for her. Now that the whole business had leaked out, well, they were on their own.
Pamela looked at her mother looking at her. She walked over and hugged her.
“You love those children, don’t you?” Esther said, holding her daughter’s hand.
“I do. They’re so innocent.”
Esther nodded. “What about the woman?”
Pamela smiled. “Mama, you can say her name, she’s not dead.”
“I know, but I don’t like her. I know we are supposed to love our enemies, but...”
“We don’t hate her and she’s not our enemy. She’s just misguided.”
“I would say strange.”
Pamela shrugged. “I guess.”
“When something different slips into a society, if we’re closed-minded, we hate it without thinking or asking questions. If we’re open we want to know all about it. We either embrace it or throw it out.”
“Is it that simple?” Pamela asked.
“Sometimes. She didn’t think enough of us to want to make a good impression, not even on Saul’s mother. She thought of us as backward. She wasn’t smart enough to know that she was the backward one.”
Pamela looked at her mother, squeezed her eyes shut. “Ouch. Do you dislike her that much because you like Saul?”
“She hurt him and this community very badly.”
Pamela kept looking at her mother. “You’re warming up to him, aren’t you?”
Esther glanced at her, then back at the children. “He’s not a bad fellow. I can’t chastise him for the mistake he made, no matter how big. But I want you to be very careful. If he begins to compare you to her...”
“Mother, no. He’ll never do that. He knows he made a very big mistake. Oh, by the way, do you know that Saul and I had met when we were young?”
“No, but I’m not surprised. We’ve all met each other at some time or the other. Why didn’t you become friends?”
“Peter.”
Her mother looked at her angrily and immediately left her side. Realizing what she’d done, Pamela clamped her hands over her mouth. She’d committed the worst sin possible by uttering Peter’s name. She ran after her mother. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” She held her mother’s hand. “I never meant to say his name. Please forgive me. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
Esther stopped and gave her daughter a look that made it impossible for Pamela to look her in the eye. Instead, she looked down and shuffled her feet. “Never again,” Esther said.
Feeling as if she were a child of ten, Pamela nodded. A time of silence between the two had to pass, so she went to the sewing hut to join Mary. She sat silent as Mary put the finishing touches to her skirt.
“Is something wrong?” Mary asked.
She shook her head.
Pam spent the rest of the day in silence. It was one thing to say her husband’s name to Saul; he understood. Although he obeyed and mostly lived the customs of the Rahjah society, he was very open. He would even encourage her to say Peter’s name if doing so allowed her to voice her feelings. It was a way for her to heal and move on even after so many years. He wasn’t afraid to say Peter’s name, either, but he wouldn’t say it to anyone else. With Esther and the older people, saying the name of the dead was strictly off limits. Some believed in ghosts, some didn’t.
After a satisfactory period of time had passed, Pamela sought out her mother. “Am I forgiven?” she asked in a quiet voice.
“Yes, you are. We will say nothing more of the matter.”
“Of course.” She hugged her mother, kissed her cheek and went back to Mary, who was waiting for her. They walked to the stables, climbed onto their horses and made their way to the beach where they sat under a tree and watched a ship miles off shore.
“Wouldn’t you love to be on one of those someday?” Pamela asked Mary.
“I think you’ll be on one before me, but it would be nice to meet people from many different backgrounds.”
Pamela leaned back against the tree with her hands clasped behind her head.
“Are you going to see Raquel?” Mary asked.
“No, not until Angel has spoken with her.”
“Is Angel on her way here?”
“I don’t think she’s on her way this very moment, but I asked Saul to get her. I don’t think we’re quite equipped to handle Raquel.”
“You’re right.” Mary leaned against the tree and closed her eyes. “You mentioned your husband’s name to your mother, didn’t you?” She opened her eyes.
“Uh-huh.”
“I figured that was the only thing that would get you in trouble with her.”
“She gave me a look that sent me back into childhood.” She sat up. “That’s not supposed to happen. I’m an adult with a child. I teach children. I make decisions for myself.”
“Calm down, don’t take it personally. It’s called respect.”
Pamela looked over at Mary and smiled. “Yes, it is.”