WE LIVE IN A WALL HOUSE
Stephen Braffit was around eight years old and lived in a modest chattel house in the village. He was mischievous and curious, and his curiosity always seem to land him in some sort of trouble. One particular house rule of the Braffits, was ‘never tell anybody outside of the house what happens there’. Though the family was not abusive, carrying stories outside meant bare licks. The Braffits were very poor, but wanted everyone around the village to believe they did as well as all the other villagers, especially the Watts family living next door.
Andy Watts’ family was well-to-do, by Bajan standards. Andy, was around the same age as Stephen. Andy tormented Stephen daily by reminding him that the Watts’ lived in a wall house while Stephen and his family lived in a board chattel house. Stephen was ashamed about his living conditions, but never wanted to retaliate against Andy. Andy, like most of his family were braggadocios and never missed an opportunity to share stories about their wealth. They were red people, had the only car in the village, and the children went to the best schools. In fact, Andy constantly reminded Stephen that he was going to Lodge in a couple more years, while Stephen was to attend West St.Joseph Comprehensive.
Stephen’s mother was a very good cook and some of her dishes would smell up the neighborhood with the curry aroma or seasoned flying fish. On the other hand, Andy’s mother could barely burn water and when she cooked pigeon peas and rice it seems you could smell the bun-bun of parched peas and rice for days. Even though Andy tormented Stephen about living in a chattel house, Andy secretly loved Ms Braffits cooking and Stephen would sneak some tasty food to him. That was their secret.
On this particular Sunday, both families returned home to smell some really good cooking coming from the Braffit’s house. As the Watts family passed by the Braffit’s house, Andy took a deep breath; he loved the smell and looked longingly as he followed his family home.
As the Watts family were undressing after church, Andy confronted his mother, “mummy, why you don’t cook like Miz. Braffits? She does mek de best curry chicken and peas and rice “.
Miz Watts haughtily chastised Andy. “Boy, you got a good future ahead of you. You live in a wall house and them raga-muffins next door, wid dem common selves, live in a ramshackle board house. It don’ matter how good the food smell, dey wud never be better than we.”
Andy was not satisfied with the answer because Stephen and he shared Miz Braffit’s food on many occasions behind the paling fence. Andy could not resist the tempting smells of the fresh pork roast. Sunday was the only day the Braffits could afford to buy meat and their meal was always delicious. By the time Ms Watts turned around, Andy had slipped out and was standing at the Braffit’s window looking like a hungry homeless kid. Ms Braffit knowing what the outcome was going to be, put her concerns aside and invited Andy for dinner.
Andy did not get the first bite in his mouth before Ms Watts bust through de door. “Boy, you en’ got no respect fuh you family? How many times I tell you to stay away from these commoners?” Ms Watts was both angry and embarrassed.
“Wuh, hey! Come nuh, sit down, Ms Watts”. Ms Braffit responded in a kind and loving voice. “I know we does live in a board house and you better off dan we in material things, but we is a loving, God-fearing family dat believe God mek we all equal”. Ms Braffit continued the conversation with Ms Watts, “I know you does be struggling trying to cook fuh you family. We does smell de bun-bun regular “. Ms Braffit reached over and put an arm around Ms Watts shoulder and said to her, “please sit down and try some a we food. If you like it, I will come over and teach you how to cook some a we special dishes.”
Ms Watts was so moved by the humble gesture that she broke down and started sobbing. “I am so sorry Ms Braffit. I was so ashamed about my cooking and didn’t know how to approach you cause we were so awful. Andy was always bragging bout you food and I was jealous!” She gulped back a sob. “Ms Braffit, tanks a lot fuh you understanding, and fuh sharing you food wid we. Would ya min’ ta please pass the hot sauce.”
Stan Brooks