Jezebels, all!

Paul H. Williams, Contributor

Christmas 2013. Somewhere in upper St Andrew, Jamaica. It was the Humphreys' family get-together.

The six siblings, their spouses, children, and their mother, Marilyn, were meeting together in the same place since their father's funeral the year before; it was the first Christmas without Jonathan Humphrey.

This time, the eldest son, Stephen, had brought his twin sons, Brandon and Brenton. His siblings, except Marissa, Stephen's eldest sister, were all delighted to see the boys, one black, the other brown.

Marissa was put off by the fearless and hyperactive youngsters, and their mother Jennifer who did not let anything pass her without uttering a word of approval and disapproval. She was too meddlesome, according to Marissa. She also had a loud laughter that shook the two-storey family house.

All over the place the twins were, and Jennifer could shout until she was blue whether or not they listened to her. It was only when Stephen boomed at them from time to time in his loud baritone that they would pause for a while, before finding some other antics to carry on.

Marissa's attitude

Jennifer was well aware of Marissa's attitude towards her sons, and a little tension brewed between the in-laws.

The day before Christmas Eve, Jennifer asked Stephen what was going on with Marissa. Stephen brushed off her concerns, saying Mar - as he calls her - had always been a little uptight since she was a child. Jennifer's reaction was not kind.

"And now that she is a prima donna New York lawyer, she behaving ... ."

"Don't go there Jenny! Jenny, just leave it like that ... ."

"But did you hear her shout at the boys yesterday?

"Just as you always do."

"Oh, so your queen of a sister is always right?

"I'm not saying that. People are who they are."

As Jennifer was about to answer, the twins burst into the living room from the front door. Behind them was a furious Marissa, with a frumpy brown wig in her hand. One of the boys ran to Stephen, the other to Jennifer.

In the middle of the room, Marissa, in head-tie, stood shaking. She held the wig high and said in a strangled tone, "This is what your little bastards did to my very expensive hairpiece."

In a nonchalant way, Jennifer, in a Southern drawl, said, "It's a wig, just like the cheap trash they sell in New York's Chinatown."

"Jennifer!" the imposing Stephen, now on his feet, shouted as he indicated to the boys to leave the room.

"Look who's talking about cheap, it could never be you who spend your days cutting out newspaper coupons ... ."

"Ladies, ladies!" Stephen interjected.

confrontation

But Marissa was not finished. "I'm sure it's not that Jezebel over there you're calling a lady. There's nothing ladylike about her. Now, who is gonna pay for my wig that those little brutes stole from my room, and took it outside to play catch with the dogs?"

"Great job, boys!" Jennifer shouted.

"Jennifer!"

"Stephen, don't Jennifer me, you always call me Jenny! Now, I want an apology."

"For what!?"

"How you mean for what? She called me a Jezebel."

"You both should apologise to each other."

Marissa gave Stephen and Jennifer a long, hard look, before storming off to her room upstairs. By now, the family members who were home had gathered to see what the commotion was all about. Marilyn Humphrey had gone shopping for cake ingredients.

The tension between Jennifer and Marissa continued on Christmas Eve - all day. Marissa insisted she wouldn't apologise to Jennifer, and she didn't care for an apology from Jennifer, despite the egging from Stephen and her mother.

The two women avoided each other during the cake-baking process. When one was in the kitchen, the other was out. It was going to be many cakes, so all the hands were used up, and despite the tension, there was much laughter and reminiscing.

After the cakes were finally in the oven, the gathering shifted to the backyard where the goat and gungo peas soup was to be cooked.

relaxing

Jennifer relaxed in a lounge chair, while Marissa rested her slim derriere on a kitchen stool. She was talking to her favourite niece, Ashley, when the twins who were playing on the front lawns appeared from the side of the house. When Jennifer saw them, she squealed, "Why can't you all walk? Stop running all over the place lest you knock Miss Mule off her pedestal!"

A shocked Marissa got up from the stool and took slow, deliberate steps over to Jennifer, who struggled to remove her massive frame from the lounge chair. Everyone was silent as they knew it was going to be a showdown. The boys ran to call their father.

showdown

Now, standing face to face, it was Marissa who started.

"Did I hear you call me a mule?"

"Yes, I sure did. That's what they call creatures who cannot conceive, Miss Prima Donna, barren, childless, children hater."

"Children hater, huh?"

"That's what I said."

"Well, tell those little jackets who their real father is, because you know damn well that ... ."

Then, without warning, a shout came from the kitchen door. "Cut it out, cut it out! Right this very moment!" It had come from Marilyn Humphrey, who had a Cuban machete in her right hand. Her big voice belied her diminutive stature. A bloody apron was around her waist. She approached them waving the machete threateningly. They couldn't believe their eyes.

Marilyn's wrath

When Marilyn Humphrey was just a few feet from her family, she scowled, and said, in a voice that betrayed the unspeakable anger that was welling up within her for the last two days, "Let me tell you something, Jezebels, jackets, mules, bastards, bitches and gays, I swear I will chop you all to pieces as I did to that goat inside, if you don't stop this bickering, right now, this very minute! Tomorrow is Christmas, and Jonathan's memorial, and you're not going to spoil it. I swear on his grave, you're not going to spoil it. So, shad up, or get chopped up!"

Marilyn Humphrey's stunned family looked at her in total disbelief as she limped back to the kitchen with the machete in her hand. When she reached the kitchen door, she stopped, looked back, and said, "And in case you are wondering who among you is gay, your guess is as good as mine."

And all eyes turned to Stephen Humphrey.