Free The Heart Does Not Bend by Makeda Silvera

Mikey sighed. They kissed good night and Mama came back to bed.
    The next morning I awoke almost as early as Mama so that I could get a good look at my grandfather. I still couldn’t see much of him though, because Mama had bandaged most of his face. As I was leaving for school, she covered him with a light cotton blanket.
    That night we didn’t go to the movies as we usually did on Fridays. Instead, I watched Mama feed my grandfather chicken broth and wash and change his bandages.
    Miss Gatty was as surprised as Uncle Mikey when she came on Saturday and found my grandfather lying on the couch. Still, she greeted him like a long-lost friend, before she went out to do our washing. Mama sat with her outside, smoking. I was, as usual, dusting the furniture in the bedroom, with the window open, the curtains flying in the breeze.
    “Him come back?” Miss Gatty asked, distrust in her voice.
    “Come back?” My grandmother sucked her teeth. “Him come here, sick, sick, couple nights ago. Mi had no choice.”
    “Well, maybe him change, yuh can only wait and see, Miss Maria.”
    “Change? Change to what, Gatty? Dem only change pon de outside. You know as much as me, dat man is like croaking lizard. So how Randolph?” Mama asked, changing the topic.
    “Him all right, still running wid de woman and de rum …it could be worse, so mi thank God, ’cause at least him bring home a little money fi help wid de house, and him nuh beat mi.”
    “Sometimes, dats all yuh can ask for, mi dear,” my grandmother answered. “Anyway, Gatty, mek mi go bake dem pastries, for dis is what bring in mi little money.”
    “See yuh next Saturday.”
    “Yes, if life spare,” Mama said
    On Sunday morning, my grandfather moved from the couch into our bedroom to make way for Uncle Mikey’s friends. He didn’t look as bad as he had a few days back, though he still had on bandages, and he was strong enough to eat rice and meat, and to talk.
    “So yuh is mi little granddaughter,” he said, stretching his hand toward mine. “Pleased to meet yuh, granddaughter. Come here, come sit on de bed, mek mi have a good look at yuh.”
    I wanted a good look at him, too, so I sat on the edge of the bed. He was a big man, tall and muscular, like Uncle Freddie, with the same big hands and wide smile. And he was charming.
    “Give yuh grandfather a hug,” he said cheerfully. I did and it felt good.
    “Ah can see dat yuh is definitely a Galloway.” He laughed, showing straight, yellowing teeth. Then he asked the usual questions: “How school? Yuh studying yuh lesson? What yuh want to be when yuh grow up?”
    I wanted to be a gardener. Now he broke into a big wide laugh that reminded me of Uncle Freddie.
    “Be careful wasp don’t sting yuh and snake don’t bite yuh and ground lizard nuh run yuh down. Dem is some of de professional hazards.” He laughed again, and I began to laugh, too. Since Uncle Freddie and then Myers had left, I hadn’t really laughed much with adults.
    “Tek me now,” he continued. “Mi have professional hazard in mi job as a car dealer. It can be dangerous sometime, for dis Kingston have some crazy people. Dem want brand-new car and dem don’t want to pay brand-new prices. So dem come to buy a second-hand car and believe dem driving out a brand-new car.
    “Imagine, car bruk down and man come back fi mash up yuh face. Dat is what ah mean by professional hazard.” He touched his chin, which was still bandaged, smiled and kept talking. “In my job yuh have to be salesman, boxer, head doctor, everything roll up in one. If ah never have boxing potential, ah wouldn’t be here to tell de story.”
    That evening during the party, I never left the bedroom, except to get two plates of food. Mama had made steamed snapper, cooked down in onions and thyme and a touch of pepper sauce, along with roasted yams, and rice and gungo peas. I heard Uncle Mikey and Frank talking in his room next door and worried that they might spoil my evening