The car made a swift sharp turn then, jostling both of them unexpectedly, and turning onto a dirt road that was barely paved.
“I’m excited to see Paulie again,” Tara whispered to Cindy, “very excited.”
Mattheus was right, Cindy thought, there was something wrong with Tara, she was definitely obsessed.
“Does Bala know you’re coming?” asked Cindy, nervously. She didn’t know how this could turn out well.
“Yes, I called and told them to expect me,” Tara replied victoriously.
*
The car drove a small distance further, through some bushes and then pulled up to a little wooden house, with a handmade fence in front of it. The driver parked and Tara told him they’d been back in a little while. He nodded and turned on the radio while Tara flung the car door open and jumped out. Cindy followed close behind, not knowing what to expect.
As Cindy walked up to the house with Tara she saw a few large dogs roaming untended, and a cluster of birds perched on the fence. This part of the island was indeed more wild and primitive.
Tara got to the door and knocked on it loudly. In a moment it opened and Bala stood there, her large eyes looking confused and afraid.
“This is my friend Cindy,” Tara introduced her right away.
Bala looked over at Cindy, perplexed and nodded. “Come in,” she said softly.
They walked into a small, colorful, unpretentious, pretty and clean, living room. The open
windows let in fragrant breezes and Cindy could smell something delicious baking in the kitchen.
“This is our home,” Bala said simply, as if she were being inspected.
“It’s lovely,” said Tara, meaning it. There were handmade patchwork cushions on the furniture and a beautiful, hand woven rug on the wooden floor.
Bala looked over at Tara sadly. Despite the strange circumstances there seemed to be a sense of familiarity between them. “Why are you here before your wedding?” Bala asked directly. “What do you want?”
Not such a simple question to answer, Tara closed her eyes for a long moment.
Bala turned to Cindy inquisitively. “None of us know why Tara is visiting,” she said in a beautiful, lilting island tone. “My relationship with Lynch ended a long time ago. I hardly ever think of him.”
“I think Tara’s realizes that,” said Cindy.
“I’m not worried about your relationship with Lynch,” Tara opened her eyes suddenly.
“My brother Dawl is with us here now, too,” Bala continued. “He’s in the back with Paulie.”
That put Tara on edge. “There’s no reason for your brother to be here,” she quickly protested.
“Of course there is,” Bala insisted. “Dawl helps me with Paulie all the time, we take care of him together. Dawl has been a father to Paulie since he was born, and Paulie can’t live without him.”
“Awful,” Tara gasped.
Bala’s eyes flashed opened with fire. “What’s awful about it? A boy needs a father figure.”
“He needs his real father,” Tara exclaimed.
“Dawl’s even better than a real father,” Bala was filled with sudden anxiety.
Just then the other door to the room opened, and a large, rugged, West Indian man stepped into the living room. He was dressed in overalls, T shirt and kerchief around his neck.
“This is my brother Dawl,” Bala started.
Dawl raised his large hand over his face, wiping away the perspiration and took another step in, filling the room with his powerful presence. “No need to introduce us,” he said in a thick accent, looking at Tara intensely. “Exactly what brings you to our home?”
“I want to see Paulie again,” Tara started.
“Oh yeah,” Dawl muttered, “Why? Who sent you?” He aimed his menacing energy directly at her.
“No one sent me,” Tara tried to stand up to him and couldn’t so well. “I want to see the boy who will be my stepson soon.”
“That’s a laugh,”Dawl shook his head. “All this time no one there cared a fig about my boy and now he’s suddenly your “stepson”? Doesn’t make sense to me. Not a whit.”
“It’s true though,” Tara’s voice trembled, “he’s going to be my stepson.”
Dawl seemed momentarily threatened. “Who the hell said he needs a stepmom? He’s got a real mom and real dad right here, too.”
“He has an uncle,” Tara tried to correct him, as he took two heavy steps closer.
“An uncle who’s more of a father to him than most dads you’ll ever know,” Dawl grumbled.
Clearly Dawl loved the boy and wanted no interference. “What the hell you get out of messing with my boy?” he went on, sneering at Tara. “You can’t have your own kids, or something?”
Tara flushed bright red. “It’s not that,” she whispered.
“And, guess what? I don’t even care what it is,” Dawl answered roughly. “Someone put you up to this, someone wants to take my boy from me. I smell money here, but it ain’t happening. You’re getting the kid over my dead body.”
Tara’s eyes filled with tears.