Caribbean storytelling. Looking back to the bed sheets, my courtship with my wife of thirty years had begun in those pristine years. True to her words, she took me home to her parents when I prompted her. They accepted me without much ‘fuss’ and in due course we were married. I found her to be the woman that I could come home to. There was never a moment when I doubted her honesty and her ability to love me. What she did not know of human sexuality I set out to teaching her. At least she led me to believe that she was my obedient student, and I her masterful teacher. She was so obedient at times that it scared me stiff. Really stiff, if you know what I mean! As a masterful teacher I pulled out all the stops.
Did I say a teacher? No, it was more like the Principal in me was created for those passionate hot sunny days. I felt proud of myself. I vowed that our love would never end until the day I die or perhaps, if she was to go first. I could not bear the thought of leaving her. After all, I had waited for years to come home to the woman of all women. I remembered how I used to rush home to be with her. Away from school, away from prying eyes, I would show her how much I loved her. I know, she hated this passion I had for my donkey – Jupiter. For her sakes, Jupiter was left home on many days while we either walked to school or I unwrap my convertible! She loved it when we drove to school but never made a fuss when we had to walk. I loved that about her. She was so accommodating.
We had five lovely children and they each made something of themselves. All of them lived overseas. They took their education as priority. This made me quite proud. One frightening day I woke up to the realisation that my wife – of thirty years – had another life! I must have laughed out loud, because my grandson woke up and knocked at my door. He wanted to know if I was alright. I told him as gently as I could not to ‘humbug me’. I knew he meant well but now was not the time. Before long he was at it again. Snoring. For a young man his age, about twenty three, he had a nasty snore!
I was laughing at my grandmother’s proverbs. One of them was, “if it looks too good to be true, child it is too good to be true.” That woman, my woman, well so I thought – had another life. Did I say that again? I must be drunk then. I scratched my head and concluded that I was not drunk, but ‘tipsy’. Now, that was the stage between not drunk enough; but still sober! I wondered if you understand me when I say that. I was indeed sober still!
So, speak to you next time