Dessa was sleeping on a cliff of purple flowers when the memory slapped her. It shocked her eyes open and sat on her chest, making her heart ache. Around her, the flowers' crowns drooped with the wind.

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Exposing her mood, as usual, the sea below darkened. All along the East Coast, sea-spray was spilling over limestone in thick loud spurts. Even the blow-hole was frothing. Flicking the end of her spliff into the ocean below, Dessa stared into the distance, until her eyes crossed. Then uncrossed. And settled on an odd old lady.

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The woman was sitting on a dirty sidewalk next to the bus terminal in Town. Her hair was hiding under a black silk cloth; a matching cotton dress ran to her ankles. Feet cushioned by soft sole sandals and covered by those brown stockings that grannies live in. They weren’t as wrinkly and droopy as the skin on her face, though. A tiny gold watch was the only accessory she wore. Everything was undulating, rippling, but her.

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Steel donkeys were streaming from the bus stand onto the sidewalk around the old lady. Red eyes, black hooves, clanking. Dessa would’ve rubbed her eyes, or pinched herself, but she’d learned anything was normal here. These ones were wearing clothes and marching on hind legs, eyes straight ahead and staring, though their feet never touched the old lady. No one else seemed to notice the tiny old woman in clean clothes sitting in the middle of a filthy sidewalk, in blistering 12 o’clock sun. And she didn’t seem to see anyone; she was just staring into her lap.

 

As Dessa wondered how to get from the cliff to help the old lady, a crossing and stoplights appeared in the sky. Cars and vans full of steel donkeys were rushing up and down the road, but they disappeared when the “WALK” sign flashed. This was her cue. Dessa plucked a flower from the cliff’s edge and hurried across the path that streamed to a cloud, over the sea below, to the old lady in town. As soon as she stepped from the crossing, the road scampered from its edge. 

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The air down here was different…lighter. Kneeling beside the old lady, Dessa could see her silver sideburns; the hair lay soft and flat against her face. Her hands gripped a paper, slightly tearing its edge. It looked like it had been ripped from an old school book and the page was yellowing to brown in splatters like an over-ripe banana. It matched the freckles sprinkling her ear.

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“Hey, I’m Dessa,” said the girl, extending her hand.

 

No response. Dessa scooped the purple flower from her pocket.

 

“I really like your sideburns! They’re like my Gran-gran’s,” she said, placing the flower on the page the old lady held; an offering.

 

The old lady’s neck cracked as she looked up. One of her eye balls was googly, a shake away from rolling out of its socket…but the other had a steady pupil and its iris was warm brown. The good one was trailing the phoenix tattoo twirling up and around the young girl’s arm and shoulder. Encouraged by the old lady’s sudden smile, the girl convinced both eyes to look at the seat further down the sidewalk; the one under the tree and in front of the careenage. One nod later, they were sitting on that bench in the shade. Shooing a pigeon, Dessa picked a tamarind from one of the tree’s lower branches and gave it to the old lady.

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“You see how the Sea flows into there?” she said, pointing to the careenage.

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“It used to be a beach when the Taino used to live there, then the British landed and killed the beach with a harbour.”

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Squinting, she could see a row of yachts bobbing gently on the water, with a few fishing boats in between. It looks so tame, she thought.

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“Anyway,” she continued, “My gran-gran used to say the sun shines brighter on the Sea here than the Atlantic. I guess it’s pretty…the sun makes the water sparkle like diamonds. You like it?”

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The old lady smiled, nodding, but her eyes stayed sad and her hands wouldn’t let go of the old page. It seemed too frail to bear the sun, just like the old lady. The girl put another tamarind on top of the paper, next to the purple flower. Hopefully it would make her smile again, she thought.

 

“Why you sad, child?’’

 

The question jumped her. She glanced at the old lady, whose body was as silent as before. If the woman’s good eye wasn’t staring at her, she would’ve thought she’d never spoken.

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“I’m sad?” asked the girl, looking to the Careenage.

 

Its waters were still and sparkling, just like her Gran-gran described it. Lit by the sun, its crests didn’t remind her of diamonds though - they were glittering as silver as this lady’s sideburns.

Then a bird decided to bless her eye. The white shit landed right in the middle, sticking to the girl’s eyeball and burning out tears. Her eyelids started to pulse, and she couldn’t stop her hands from rubbing her eyes dry. After a while the pain faded, but she suddenly remembered the cliff and the memory.

 

How did it find me here? she thought, shaking her head.

 

As Dessa’s heart started to ache again, the old lady’s hand travelled closer and closer and there; the purple flower was now in the girl’s palm. The old lady smiled and covered the girl’s hand with hers.

The old lady’s skin was cooling; it felt clammy and ashen and wrinkly and soft at the same time. Her other hand was still holding onto the page, still clutching it until her veins rose: squiggly blue and green lines…they look like roots, thought the girl. Multi-coloured roots running through and about each other, running—

 

“Wuh making you sad, child?”

 

Dessa shrugged, rubbing her temples slowly.

 

“I don’t know,” she muttered, shaking her head. “I don’t know.” “Wuh happen child?” the old lady chanted. It was a softer, more gentle command.

 

“I don’t—”

 

The sky flickered and the sun burned hotter, and the girl slumped into the bench. But as the old lady gently gripped her hand tighter, she noticed the sky seemed to lighten a bit. She shook her hear head again.

“Am I high or dreaming?” she thought aloud. “I can’t tell the difference anymore.” The old lady chuckled. Surprised, the girl laughed in turn. She was soon rambling into

 

a steady conversation with her new friend, forgetting to be sad until her tongue tripped and stumbled into:

“I never said anything.”

 

“I, I didn’t stop it,” Dessa repeated, wringing her hands. “So it can’t be his fault, right? I mean, I’ve known him forever. We were friends since first form…”

The girl’s voice caught, startled by the red liquid running down the old lady’s cheeks.

 

It was streaming into the crevices of her wrinkled face. Smelling like blood.

 

The girl’s eyes bulged, but the old lady just seemed to be laughing at her. The sound was feathery; deep but slight, like a hiccup. Seeing her fear, the old lady dropped the girl’s hand and pressed a finger to her bloody tears. She popped it into her mouth, moving her jaws as if testing the taste. She made a show of swallowing something, then her finger left her mouth and she smiled at the girl. Somehow, that made everything okay.

“It’s like one minute we’re just kissing.”

 

“And then he’s standing beside the bed, saying ‘Come’—”the girl continued, body tensing.

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She shook her head…the old woman’s tears seemed to be flowing from her words. Memories, secrets…it all happened a long time ago, thought the girl, in another world; why did it have to find her here? Why did it matter?

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“I go to him…but all of a sudden he turns me around. His right palm is on my right shoulder, and his left…his left hand is gripping my waist; he’s holding me tight. I pull from his hold on me…I’m confused…I’m pulling away but he’s stronger and his hand forces me down until I’m hunched over and my forehead’s grazing the ground…and somewhere between him pushing and me trying to pull away my body stuck; it just freezes— it wouldn’t listen to me—it felt like, like sleep paralysis? Yes, it felt just like a duppy riding me—"

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Dessa was gripping her chest now, but the more she said the more sky brightened; the more the old lady smiled as she wept:

“—or a steel donkey…that’s what Gran-gran would call it. And I couldn’t shake it off. I was ‘aware’; I knew he was bending me over—my forehead was scraping the ground; each time my body jerks forward I’m thinking ‘Run.’ ‘Run.’ ‘Run.’ And ’NO!’…but nothing moves except my eyes, and all they do is blink blink blink; He was behind me, moving back and forth; could hear him going in and out—but I couldn’t feel anything—I couldn’t feel— why couldn’t I move? –was he there? I heard him sigh and step away…we’re back to the bed and my body can move again, and he’s asking me something and my mouth is replying and my legs are standing. He’s sitting on the bed and then his knuckles stroke me…they touch me there again…but how could I say that to a judge? I froze—how can I say that out loud? I let him rape me Gran-gran…WHY WOULD ANYONE WANT TO REMEM—“

Something inside her popped, and “-ber” puffed from her mouth.

 

Eons passed.

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Dessa felt lightheaded and her chest felt airy. Her heart wasn’t aching anymore, she realised. It was hurt but it wasn’t aching. And the thought started to dance up and down and around her mind, making her giddy and happy and—

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The old lady’s voice pulled the girl back to the bench. The old woman was laughing again and sucking on the tamarind she had given her! Both eyes were brown and happy, and the blood on her face was gone…but where was the yellow paper she’d been holding?

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The old lady leaned in, taking the flower that still lay in the girl’s palm. She kissed it once before tucking it’s petals into her hair.

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Dessa touched her cottony strands, surprised. Her hair was longer and kinkier than it was when she’d first seen the old lady, running past her ankles as a wreath of purple flowers twirled its way around her crown. The old lady’s sideburns are so silver, she thought, just like Gran-gran’s.

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Behind the old lady, streams of rainbows were shooting from the Sea. They were flowing over the edge of the Careenage to under the tamarind tree above them. Dessa’s breath caught when their strands morphed into a luminous spiral. It unrolled to rest at the old lady’s toes. The old lady kissed the girl’s forehead then.

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“Is this real?” whispered the girl. “I really want this to be real.” “More or less,” the old lady replied, smiling.

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As the old lady stepped onto the purple rainbow, the parchment reappeared in her hands. She ran her fingers down it, as if checking a list. Her eyes began to look sad again, like they did when Dessa first glimpsed her from the cloud.

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“I got to go now child,” she said.

 

Dessa’s crown toppled to the ground as she jumped from the bench. The old lady bent and picked up the ring of purple flowers, kissing the girl’s cheek as she placed it firmly on her head.

 

“Wh-where are you going?”

 

“To the other girls that need a crown, child,” the old lady said, softly.

 

And that’s when something really magical happened.

 

For the first time since the boy raped her, Dessa began to cry.