Ahead of them, advancing from the edge of the crowd, whose members were singing and holding hands, Fire saw Mr. Heath and Major Daley.

“Well, look who’s here,” said I-nelik in a sarcastic voice. “The First Couple. I’ll check you later. They might start holding hands too.”

“This is not the time for that,” Fire said, grabbing his arm. “We’re family, man. Blood.”

Searching Fire’s eyes I-nelik said, “Stop pretending. You’ve never liked having a battyman father. Don’t get sentimental now.”

“That has never been my issue with him—and you know that.”

“Well it should be.”

The dread sucked his teeth, pushed his way between the men, and burrowed into the crowd. Fire began to feel queasy, as if he’d eaten sour bananas. There was a part of him that often wondered if his relationship with his father would’ve been different if the man were straight. Or if it would’ve been any easier if they didn’t live in Jamaica—a stubbornly homophobic country. He thought about this awhile and reassured himself that this had nothing to do with it. They’d been distant from the beginning.

“Come,” Mr. Heath said from a few paces. The neck of his black shirt-jacket was open, revealing a red silk ascot. “Come and hug your father.”

Fire tried to feel the closeness, told himself it would feel natural if he tried. They’d hugged like this maybe three times, he thought. He couldn’t remember the first time. The last time had been at his mother’s bedside.

“We are family,” Mr. Heath whispered. “No matter what, son, we are family.”

“Yes, Dada.”

“You are my only child, Fire. We can’t keep living like this. Jesus Christ, man. I know that I’m not a perfect man and that I might have done things to alienate you … but come on, man … gimme a chance. Life is too short, man. Look at Ian and Miss Gita. Let that be an example to us. Things aren’t right, so let’s try and fix it. You are my only child, Fire. My only son.”

“I understand that,” Fire replied. “I understand that.”

“Are you sure you understand?”

“Yes … I’m sure I understand … so we can let go now.”

Fire stepped back and turned to the sun. The light would be gone soon. Did Buju and Teego remember to line the gravel road with flambeaus? The procession needed light to go down to the beach for the nine-night. Shit, did he order enough Portosans and tables?

“How much did all this cost you?” Mr. Heath asked, puffing on his cigar. Major Daley was standing to the side.

“Money is not the object, Dada,” Fire replied, as he thought of what I-nelik had told him.

Mr. Heath wagged his head.

“You let that boy use you to the grave, eeh man?”

“Let it rest,” Fire said.

“I keep forgetting that I can’t tell you anything.”

“That’s not true.”

“Of course it’s true.”

“You know it’s not true.”

“Name one piece of advice you’ve ever taken from me …”