You Reap What You Sow
Uncle Stan loved strolling in the evening just before it was time to turn in. Many of the local children loved to hear Uncle Stan tell the folktales of the village. The little boys got excited, giggled at the funny parts, and waited patiently until the end of the stories because they knew a nice meal came at the end of the stories. The boys jumped up and down and shouted, “tell we a funny story, Uncle Stan!” Uncle Stan gave in and proceeded to tell the following story. But before he began, he cautioned the boys, “wunna mus pay attention, cause I want wunna to guess de title fuh de story.”
Biggle and Little were twin sisters around 16 years old. These sisters grew up inseparable. They dressed similarly from babies, walked hand in hand to and from school, and seemed to know what each other was thinking without prompting. There was a noticeable difference between the twins. Biggle and Little were nicknames for the twins since Biggle was somewhat more prominent in stature than Little. Little had some health issues from a child, namely the fits, so Biggle was a constant companion for Little.
Biggle and Little’s mother, Edna, was also very protective of her girls. Edna raised the girls on her own from their early ages of three. Edna’s husband, Morty, grew distant and then hostile towards Edna and the girls because he didn’t want to be bothered raising a sick child. When the girls turned three, Morty expelled Edna and the girls from the home they built together. Edna was heartbroken over the decision and slipped into a deep depression. Edna took the girls and moved in with her mother, where she cared for her girls.
Shortly after Morty expelled Edna and the girls, Morty moved his long-term girlfriend Shaniqua into the house to live with him. Morty was not discrete about his relationship with Shaniqua and regularly boasted around the village about how gorgeous she was. Shaniqua was indeed a surprise. She strolled around the village pompesetting with her long eyelashes, nicely manicured acrylic fingernails, and heavy bright lipstick. She wore dresses and jeans that seemed two to three sizes too small. Shaniqua was stylish, and when dressed, she looked like 10 pounds of brown sugar in a five-pound bag bubbling over. Shaniqua also wore some expensive perfumes that announced her arrival several minutes before anyone saw her.
It was a beautiful Sunday morning, and Edna, as usual, got the girls dressed in matching modest dresses, and the three attended the nearby Pilgrim Holiness Church. Morty and Shaniqua also participated at the same Church. Morty and Shaniqua usually arrived after services started and trotted to the front of the Church to their usual pews. On this particular Sunday, Shaniqua wore a beautiful royal blue dress, a low cut in the front almost to her waist, and a split up the back just short of showing all her particulars. Shaniqua’s makeup was heavy as usual, with long eyelashes, heavy makeup on the eyes, and lipstick that would have made Jezebel blush. Shaniqua also wore one of her broad-brimmed hats, her signature, and four-inch spiked heels. The whole Church knew they were in the parking lot before they entered the Church. She had the expensive perfume to announce her arrival.
Pastor Lynch, the local Pastor, preached a sermon on love and forgiveness. The mood in the Church was light and pleasant. The services came to an end, and the congregants began the processional to vacate the Church. As Morty and Shaniqua approached the bench where Edna and the girls were seated, Shaniqua looked over at Edna and the girls glaringly and with disdain. Little, noticing the interaction, stuck out her tongue at Shaniqua. Without hesitation, Bam! Shaniqua smacked Little across her face with her Bible, knocking Little over in the pew. Biggle immediately jumped up and grabbed Shaniqua’s hat, which was attached to her wig, and proceeded to beat her with the hat and wig. Little recovered in time to join the fight. The two girls forced Shaniqua to the ground as one of her spikes broke. The split in the back of her dress gave way all up to her waist. The girls punched Shaniqua until the Pastor and Morty pulled them from Shaniqua.
When the girls finished beating Shaniqua, her beautiful wig had given way to a knotty mess on her head. Her underpants were showing in the back, and her makeup looked like she was auditioning for a role in a Michael Jackson Thriller video. Morty helped Shaniqua up, placed her hat and wig back on her head, all crooked, and escorted her out of the Church. With one heel missing and her dress torn in the back, Shaniqua departed the Church holding the back of her dress to hide her particulars. She also limped away like a one-legged man with a peg leg. Ting bup! Ting Bup! Ting Bup!
The event was the talk of the village for nearly a month until a Bailiff presented papers to Biggle and Little to appear in Her Majesty’s Court for a hearing. Morty brought the charges against his daughters, and the Judge fined them each $250.00. The girls had no money and wondered how they could pay the debt. Biggle was not discouraged, however; she devised a scheme to pay for the fines.
Morty was quite the entrepreneur. Besides his regular job at the Barbados Water Authority, he had a few side hustles. One of his side ventures was coconutting and growing other fruits and vegetables. Biggle decided to put her plan into action. She enlisted the help of one of the local vagrants, Dripty, to raid Morty’s mango tree. They picked every ripe mango. Biggle then sent Dripty to Morty’s house to sell him the mangoes for exactly $500.00.
“Children, though Biggle’s actions were not appropriate, there are some lessons we might learn from the story.” Uncle Stan asked the boys, “What title would you give the story?”
The boys started shouting out titles, “dohn steal mangoes!”, “Dohn hit children wid a Bible!”. Uncle Stan turned to Lil Boy, a usually quiet but thoughtful boy and asked him what title would he give the story. Lil Boy answered, “Ya dohn always reap wha yuh does sow.”
Uncle Stan said, “well, that was close, but it wasn’t quite what I was thinking. The title of my story is, “Ya does reap wha yuh does sow.”
Ms. Bryan, make us some bulljowl, gi we some mauby too, and pass de hotsauce.
Folk story by: Stan Brooks