Chapters (10)
We wake before dawn to go to the market. At that time of the morning, a gray mist hangs in the air, dew over everything. It is very calm but a little cool at the same time. Manman makes me wear an extra blouse over my dress. Halfway down the mountain, when the sun comes up, I can take off the blouse.
My job is to carry the peanut confections while Manman carries the coconut ones.
Along the way, we meet other vendors walking down to the market. Some are carrying plantains, breadfruits, mangoes, and corn to sell. Others are carrying cocoa and coffee beans.
We must cross a river before we can reach the market. Manman and the other vendors always try and find the shallowest spot in the river for their crossing. Then we remove our shoes, raise our skirts—the men roll up their pants—and we wade across with baskets of different weights on top of our heads.
The market is very lively on Saturdays, even more so than on Wednesdays. Manman does not have a stall, because she is not a big vendor like Sò Grace or the others who sell things in larger quantities. Manman usually sets her winnowing trays near Sò Grace’s stall, and Sò Grace doesn’t mind if Manman benefits from the shade from her stall because Manman buys cloth from her now and then.
Sò Grace is taking out some of her best cloth when we arrive. Soon Manman goes off to send the cassette to Papa. I have decided not to send my letter until I can think of more to say.
While Manman is gone, Sò Grace walks over to where I am sitting behind Manman’s tray of sweets and says, “My daughter is coming for a visit soon.”
“Is she, Madame?” I say.
Sò Grace bends down, picks up one of Manman’s coconut candies, and bites into it. Then she reaches into her money apron and gives me twenty-five gourdes, which is much more than the dous is worth.
“When I spoke to her on the telephone,” she says, “my daughter told me your letter was the best letter that I’d ever had written for me. She said she could hear my voice in the letter.”
LATER
Moy met us at the fork in the road when we returned from the market. Manman was more tired than usual. She had a headache.
Moy gave me a gentle tap on the head as a greeting, like he always does. When you look at him, not thinking that he is your brother, Moy does appear rather handsome. He is tall and thin, like Papa, and he wears loose and airy clothes that he makes himself.
Even though he and Manman are not on the best of terms, Moy takes Manman’s basket and carries it the rest of the way home.