Robert Edison Sandiford is the author of several books, among them the story cycle Fairfield, the novel And Sometimes They Fly, and graphic novels with NBM Publishing. He has been shortlisted for The Frank Collymore Literary Award and is a recipient of Barbados’ Governor General’s Award of Excellence in Literary Arts. In 2003, he founded with the poet Linda M. Deane the Barbadian cultural resource ArtsEtc Inc. He has worked as a publisher, teacher and, with Warm Water Productions, producer. His stories have appeared in journals, magazines, newspapers, and anthologies. Currently, he’s busy with another novel, this time about fathers, sons and dementia.
Robert Edison Sandiford
We’d sit on the verandah, my Dad and I, and it wouldn’t be a dream. Either here in Barbados or in white plastic chairs by the front door in LaSalle.
I Never Heard My Father Called Nigger
It wasn’t like in Florida in 76 when the tanned man in pumpkin plaid shirt and
brown corduroys (how could I ever forget?) looked straight past Dad toward the door
while Dad looked straight at him. His shoulder-length hair was neat and thinning.
He had sharply etched red-to-white mutton chops. He smelled of aftershave like
Roman Brio, the scent that conquered Rome, and motel-soap clean.
The Horseshoe Crab
My Dad used to leave us for long hours when we went to the beach, any beach, we could be in the States or another Caribbean island. It was as if he was forever seeking a way Back Home, the sands of Barbados on other shores. We’d be on vacation, in the sea, and his body and head would disappear. Or he’d walk away, his dark back and swim trunks growing smaller and smaller against the skyline. He looked like a superhero, a black Namor for sure, in his red and blue Speedos. Mistrustful of the sunny surface world. More at home in the murkiness of the deep.