Patsy: Winner of the LAMBDA Literary Award 2020

by Nicole Y. Dennis-Benn

Tru was quietly sucking her thumb, staring up at Patsy as Patsy experienced a small burst of regret. It was as though the child somehow knew, even before she had started to live, that she would have to soothe herself.

She has a wide, screwed face, the face of a person who seems cross with the world—a Jamaican woman, no doubt, whose smiles and laughter are reserved for people she knows well and trusts.

The smell of fish hurries toward Patsy and she begins to think it’s a mistake, being here at the mercy of a woman who bleaches her skin and cooks fish this early in the morning.

She learns intimate details about these well-dressed white women who don’t bother to whisper, talking to each other from separate stalls. Most of them, she learns, think they’re fat. This might explain the kale-ackee wrap—another unique entrée Patsy has never heard of and is absolutely sure that the real Peta-Gaye had never cooked—being the most popular item on the menu.

Marva doesn’t let Tru and Kenny have friends over; and before Jermaine and Daval moved out, they weren’t allowed to have friends over either. She’s distrustful like that. “Friends will tek yuh business an’ carry it go road.”