Two hours after he learned about the baby, Gittens wanted to bury it. It wasn’t really a baby, but that hazy early-formative stage. Gittens was vexed with Gemma’s role, but she said that if he was going to chase after every tail that blew like a kite in the breeze then that was what he would get. I didn’t know how Gittens got his hands on the remains, much less where Gemma had the procedure done. This was 1982, and carnival was around the corner, and everybody was singing Penguin’s “Deputy.”
“We have to go to the hardware store,” Gittens said, and so, with me in tow, another Gittens adventure began. We drove out to the Main Road, but it was only after we reached the hardware store that I saw that Gittens was out to mamaguy me. He asked one of the workers if he could buy a forest.