Breadfruit (11 page)

Materena shivers, then nods in agreement.

“I didn’t panic,” Giselle says. “It’s no use to panic.”

“
Ah oui,
it’s best to stay calm and breathe slowly,” says Materena.

“Yes, I breathed slowly. And Mori said, ‘Ah, don’t worry, Cousin.’ He grabbed the flashlight from the glove box and the tool
kit from the trunk and he got into fixing his car. And I spoke to the baby. I said, ‘Don’t you come now, it’s not a good time.’
But one minute I was fine and the next minute I got this contraction and it was hurting so much, I cried out loud. Then I
yelled, ‘Mori, what’s with your bomb?’ And Mori announced to me that his car was now a wrecked and smoking pile of shit.”

“
Ah hia hia,
” Materena says. “And after? What?”

“Eh, what was I supposed to do? Here I was, contracting, and Mori’s car was smoking, and Mori was moaning about all the money
he paid for the complete tune-up.”

“Some complete tune-up.”

“He got done real bad. He went to the wrong mechanic.”

“He got a cheap job.”

“That’s what happens when you pay shit—you get shit.”

“True, Cousin. And what did you do? Did you walk to the hospital?”

“Walk, Materena?” Giselle looks at Materena like she can’t believe what she’s hearing. “You’re crazy! With me contracting?
Non,
I decided to stop a car.”

“Ah, that’s good thinking.”

“Yes. A car passed us and I waved and put my hands on my belly to make the person in the car know that, my waving, it had
something to do with me being pregnant. But the car didn’t stop.”

“The car didn’t stop!” Materena exclaims. “There are some people in this world!”

“Another car passed—same thing. Then I realized that perhaps people didn’t stop because of Mori.”

“Ah.” Materena understands. Mori is over six feet tall, he’s a big man with a beard down his chest, and a Rastafarian hairstyle.
He is also covered in homemade tattoos. If you didn’t know Mori, you might get scared of him. He looks… well, he looks
a bit like a thug, and he is, but he’s no mean person. In fact, he’s quite gentle.

“What did you do with Mori?” Materena asks.

“I got him to hide behind his wrecked car. Another car passed me and I waved and pointed to my belly and the car stopped.
It was a brand-new Mercedes-Benz. A young man—a
popa’a
—got out of the car. I told him about my contractions and he said to get in the car, so I got in the car.”

“What about Mori?”

“Ah, Mori got into the car too,” Giselle says. “I’d completely forgotten about him when the back door opened and Mori appeared
with the baby’s suitcase. Mori said to the driver, ‘Don’t worry, mate, she’s my cousin.’ So, here we were, speeding away to
the hospital, and seconds later, I got this urge to push. I tried to hold myself from pushing, I didn’t want to mess up the
man’s brand-new car, but, Cousin, I could feel the baby’s head. I wanted to scream because it was like my arse was getting
ripped, but I controlled myself. You don’t scream out in front of people you don’t know. Eh, I was a bit embarrassed. If the
driver was old—okay, but he was young and so handsome, Cousin. He looked like an actor.”

“You, eh,” Materena chuckles.

“It’s not every day we see a handsome man.” Giselle winks and laughs. “Anyway, we got to Papeete, and I said to myself, Baby
is coming—baby is coming. So I asked the young man, ‘Is it okay with you for me to have the baby in your car? Because my baby
is coming.’ The young man just looked at me for one second and then he pulled over to the side of the road. And I said to
him, ‘My cousin Mori, he’s going to clean up the mess.’ And I said to Mori, ‘Eh, Mori, you’re going to clean up the mess?’
And Mori said, ‘You can count on me.’ I took my undies off, I put my feet on the dashboard, and I pushed.”

And Isidore Louis junior was born.

Materena’s eyes are teary. Birth stories always make Materena’s eyes teary.

“The young man—his name was Isidore Louis junior?” she asks.

“
Non,
just Isidore Louis. It’s me who added
junior.
”

“Ah, and, Mori, he cleaned up the car?”

“
Non,
because when Isidore Louis junior was born, Isidore Louis drove us to the emergency room at the hospital and then he just
took off.”

“Maybe he wanted a professional cleaner to clean his car.”

“Eh, he’d need a professional cleaner, with all the blood and the shit.”

Materena looks down at Isidore Louis junior. “You sure have a story to tell your kids.”

Giselle smiles. “
Ah oui.
It’s not every day a baby gets born in a brand-new Mercedes.”

Here’s a truck coming, and Giselle waves a little wave, meaning, please stop right in front of me. Then she flicks her cigarette
away and, smiling, takes her precious son back.

“Have fun shopping,” Materena says after one more kiss on her nephew’s forehead.

“Oh”—Giselle shrugs—“I wish.” She adds that she’ll probably end up paying for the phone bill because she wants the telephone
connected in case there’s an emergency with her baby, like she needs to call an ambulance. One thing is for sure, though,
the telephone will have a padlock on it and the key will be with Giselle twenty-four hours a day. She’s not paying for long-distance
calls. She has enough bills coming out her ears.

And, having given this insight into her poor financial situation, Giselle walks to the truck while Materena mentally erases
her cousin from the list for the bed.

W
hat about Rita? thinks Materena as she’s walking home. For sure, she’d love to be part of the contribution team, being Materena’s
favorite cousin and everything. If she’s not chosen, she might actually be very offended. But, first of all, it might be a
good idea to see what Rita thinks about wedding-gift lists.

Some people prefer to surprise the bride. Now is a good time for Materena to inquire, since Rita is coming around for a while.

Presently, the two cousins are soaking themselves in tubs filled with cool water, legs and arms dangling and bedsheets hanging
on the line for privacy.

“Rita,” Materena begins, “what —”

But Rita has her own ideas for the topic of conversation. “Cousin,” she blurts out, interrupting, “I wanted caresses two nights
ago.”

Ah, okay. That kind of conversation. “With Coco?” Materena asks.

Rita raises her penciled eyebrows. “Of course with Coco. What do you think?”

Materena was just being curious. Sometimes it happens that a woman wants caresses from a man other than her man.

“I decorated the bed with frangipani flowers,” Rita goes on.

Materena chuckles. “
Ah oui?
”

“I massaged my body with coconut oil. I combed my hair wild-style, put a bit of rouge on my cheeks, and sprayed eau de cologne
behind my ears and on the pillows. Coco was watching the soccer match on the TV.”

“Pito watched that soccer match too.”

“Well, Cousin, it would have suited me more if there was a documentary on the TV instead of that soccer match. I waited for
Coco to come to bed, I kept calling out, ‘
Ouh-hou,
Coco, I’m waiting for you, darling.’ But Coco was too hypnotized by the soccer match to hear my calling. After a while I
got out of bed and marched to the living room. I paraded gracefully in front of the TV, and then I accidentally let my pareu
slip away—to show off my oiled body. Coco didn’t even blink. So I said—with my sexy voice—‘Coco, my Coco.’ But he just waved
for me to get out of the way.”

“
Ah non!
” says Materena.

“
Ah oui!
So I turned the TV off, and Coco ran to the TV and turned it back on. Then he said to me, ‘Are you going to let me watch
my soccer match or what?’ Oh-la-la, I was so cranky, I tell you, Cousin. You know when you’re in the mood, you’ve got to be
satisfied, eh?”

“
Ah oui,
Cousin. You’ve got to have satisfaction.”

“I went back to bed,” Rita continues, “and I waited for my Coco to come give me satisfaction. He cheered, and I cheered too.
I wanted Faa’a to win, that way Coco would feel like celebrating.”

There and then, Materena knows Rita didn’t get her satisfaction. Faa’a lost to Pirae by two scores. She knows this because
Pito was in a bad mood all through the second half. He kept on swearing birds’ names, and at one point he got so angry with
the players, he swore at Materena because her ironing was disturbing his concentration. She had to resume her ironing in the
kitchen.

Eh, but maybe Coco decided to forget the loss in the arms of Rita.

“He came to bed in a bad mood,” Rita says. “I knew Coco was in a bad mood—all the swearing he did, all the thumping, and I
thought, Ah, I’m going to give him a little head scratch and then he’s going to relax on me.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“I scratched Coco’s head for about five minutes.” Rita glances at Materena and smiles. “Sexy scratching, of course.”

“Yes, of course.” Materena smiles back at Rita.

“I waited for Coco to attack me,” Rita goes on, “but there was no attacking and I was getting
fiu
of scratching Coco’s head, so I attacked Coco with kisses. I attacked for about two minutes, then I got
fiu
of kissing, so I got on top of Coco. And his
moa,
it was soft. He said to me, ‘I’m too sad about the match, Rita.’ And I said to him, ‘Okay, but tomorrow you better give it
to me . . .’ But he didn’t give it to me last night.”

“Eh, he was probably just tired, Cousin.”

“I can’t believe Coco refused to give me satisfaction last night. He’s never refused to give me satisfaction in all the six
months we’ve been together. I tell you, Cousin, there’s another woman feeding my Coco. My problem, Cousin, is that Coco is
handsome. So many women look at him. They walk past and they turn around. They can’t help themselves, because, my Coco, he’s
got beautiful eyes. So many women want my Coco. Sometimes I think I should have got myself a bald man.”

“It’s hot, eh?” says Materena, trying to change the subject.

But Rita doesn’t want to talk about the weather, she wants to talk about her Coco and how he didn’t give it to her last night.
“I’m going to do some investigation, Cousin. That Coco better watch out, because if I find out that there is another woman,
I’m going to give Coco the potion—there will be no hesitation.”

“What potion are you talking about?” Materena is worried now.

“The potion that makes the
moa
soft,” Rita says.

“There’s such a potion?” asks Materena.

“
Ah oui.
An old woman who lives in Taravao makes that potion. Lily told me about that old woman.”

“Our cousin Lily?” Materena wants to make sure Rita is talking about their cousin Lily and not another Lily, because it seems
so unlike their cousin Lily to use a potion that makes a
moa
soft. Lily is much more likely to be interested in a potion that makes the
moa
hard.

“Yes, our cousin Lily,” says Rita. “Anyway, that old woman, she told me how when she was young she got hurt so bad by a man
that she decided to dedicate her life to helping other women who get hurt by a man. That woman, she was in love with that
man and he promised to marry her, but he married another woman instead. Her potions are cheap, and any woman can afford to
buy them. You buy the potion in a bottle of whisky. You put two teaspoons of that potion in the beer for ten days and then
the
moa
becomes soft… and it stays soft forever.”

“The
moa
stays soft
forever?
”

“
Ah oui,
for eternity, Cousin.” Rita nods several times to confirm this. “That Coco, he’s going to regret the day he decided to get
himself another woman. What, I don’t feed him enough?”

“Cousin, you feed Coco plenty,” Materena says, and she should know, since they talk about it often.

“I tell you, Cousin, he better give it to me tonight… It’s his last chance.” Now Rita has a mean look on her face. “No
sexy loving tonight, and I’m going to get that potion, give it to Coco for ten days, and then I’m going to burn all his clothes
and get myself another man.”

“You’re not going to do the investigation first?”

“
Ah non.
It’s too hard to do the investigation. No sexy loving for me tonight equals soft
moa
for Coco for the rest of his life.”

When Rita leaves, Materena is tempted to run to the telephone booth to contact Coco at his work and tell him that he better
give Rita some sexy loving tonight, but… women’s talk is secret.

On her way to the Cash & Carry store the next day, Materena can’t get Rita’s threat off her mind. Materena isn’t comfortable
about Rita giving that potion to Coco. What if the potion made Coco have a heart attack? Rita might be charged with murder,
and Materena with conspiracy. She has to ring Rita.

Rita works at a shop where they sell fabric, and the person who owns the shop always answers the telephone because Rita is
supposed to be selling the fabric to the customers. And when you call Rita at her work, you have to tell the boss of the shop
that you’re family and that your call is about something important regarding the family.

“Hello, it’s Rita’s cousin here, and I have to talk to Rita now—it’s about the family.”

“Don’t you two speak for too long.” The shop owner is quite abrupt.

“
Ah non,
I only need to talk to Rita for one second.”

“This is a business.”

“Yes, okay.”

Materena hears the shop owner yell at Rita to come to the phone, it’s her cousin and it’s about the family. Rita comes to
the phone.

“Rita, it’s me.” Materena knows the shop owner is looking at Rita. “Just say yes or no. Coco, did he give it to you last night?”

“
Ah oui,
ten out of ten.” Rita sounds so happy today. “And tell Grandma I’m going to take her to the hospital for her checkup, okay?
I go now, there’s customers.”

Materena is relieved. Then she starts to laugh.