Sasha

By Cliff Bacchus

Sasha is a historical novel, set in an insulated community, Sigatoo Isle, Bahamas, exploring the dangers of acculturation, particularly intra-matrimony, which can have lasting and rapacious effects on its population.

Hannah Watts, a wilful, young woman dealing with multiple sclerosis, is committed to lifting the black veil off the notorious practice of marriages among first cousins in her town and her island.

Captivating, confronting, and evocative novel, Sasha offers a unique addition to the genre in its character-driven emotional basis while remaining a thought-provoking read with a contemporary approach. Hannah’s quest to improve her homeland is enthralling, written with a compelling honesty well-paced against the dramatic, at times, heart-breaking twists and turns.

This works to combine a deep emotional effect with a compulsion that drags the reader to the edge of their seat beyond the final dramatic moments.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Aug 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798889103042

Cliff Bacchus

Cliff Bacchus, originally from Guyana, has been a physician for the past fiftyone years, forty-eight of which have been in the Bahamas. He worked as senior district medical officer for twenty-eight years, and now runs two integrative pain management clinics. He was a community activist. He was a consultant to the Blue Ribbon Commission on National Health, and he was the Physician of the Year in 2000. In October of 2022, the Commonwealth of the Bahamas awarded him the Queen’s Distinguished Service Medal.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Sigatoo Isle, Bahamas, 2020

Butter my butt and call me a biscuit! I tossed and turned in bed and grumbled. Pins and needles stung my face. I slapped my cheek. My fingers had gone numb. I hit them hard on the headboard against the wall. The framed karate medal that hung on it vibrated. Multiple sclerosis isn’t a joke. No disease is.

Neither are old customs, Ellinor said.

It would have to be a woman of average intelligence to do the job of ending old beliefs that men sleep and snore on. But I’ll try.

Women for that job? Ellinor made a wheezy chuckle. Men run this island. Where would you find—

That woman is me. I stretched myself stiff under the blanket and stressed my words. I’m more than ready for any man who takes a swipe at me. You live with lions, be prepared for their moans and roars. And make them meow like kittens.

Can you…

What? I mumbled, raising my eyebrows. I raised a hand and turned my face from her.

Would you live to fight for change?

Why not? I’m a woman. I want to fight for peace and social justice for our islanders.

You’re sick, I’m sick. MS would cripple us. It’s not a safe world, said my sister, lying in bed with me.

I jerked my chin, rocked with a faraway look, and smirked, Sickness or no, I’ll risk my life if I have to run in the middle of traffic to save a cat, so I’ll do it for society. We have to change the cousins marrying cousins to avoid the possible genetic abnormalities. Who knows? If I succeed, I’ll write a book on it and educate the world.

Hannah, be careful. You’re not fighting for a nomination for a Nobel Peace Prize, are you?

I could be. Bertha von Suttner was the first woman to win it. Only about sixteen women have won it as opposed to eighty-something men. Why not me?

You’re crazy. No head of state here will recommend you.

You think? The prime minister was born here. He’s got roots here. With a book to the world on preventing genetic diseases, peace to humanity, why not?

You can’t be my sister, not with the way you think. No one will recommend you. Cut the psychotic behavior.

Was Mother Teressa psychotic? What about Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King, Barack Obama, and the others?

You’re after the money, eh? Six hundred thousand or more?

Don’t need a cent. I need the focus on the issue. That’s what I need.

You need to focus on you. Book deal. Fame.

Our island, our world’s population will drop if we don’t heed the need to add change to people’s belief. Just listen to me for a second. I stressed my words. Who said culture glues society?

God, Hannah Watts. God said so.

I must win over customs. I pushed the blanket out of the way and hurled my arm up. It’s called women power!

She pulled back, her eyes blinking. You have a point there.

I closed my eyes. Picture this: Like a bird, I fly over Sigatoo Isle. I touch every human head. Their souls change color. From tar to gold. Their minds take on a different light: from darkness to neon light. Yes! They bow down and say, ‘We accept the change. Cousins won’t marry cousins. They crown me queen of Sigatoo Isle.’

Delusions of grandeur! And so?

I flipped my eyes open. I-I-I don’t know. It’s my story. I pulled my shoulders down, my arms hanging relaxed.

We can die from MS before any change.

Nothing’s certain right now, but I’ve heard about unnecessary diseases and deaths. Enough! I’ll make people want to change habits.

Get off your high horse.

Nope!

It’s a gargantuan task.

I didn’t say it wasn’t. But something or somebody has to change. Someone has to turn up every stone on the island to effect change for the people’s health.

Will it be me?

People will change you.

I sweat. From our teen years, many of our cousins married their cousins. Yak! Many had children with inborn diseases. I bent my knees. Ouch! They hurt. My plan is bold—but I am. Am I sure?

She gripped her protruded abdomen, winced, and retched.

Ellinor! I grabbed my glass of coconut water on the headboard shelf and put it to her lips. Drink, sis. This is good for you. Rehydrates. Drink it.

She shook her head and sucked in deep breaths. In minutes, the pain went away.

Still, drink a little bit. Good island stuff. At the word ‘island’, my mind drifted to the leaders who upheld these baneful customs.

She sipped the coconut water and rubbed her face. You speak like a real woman.

I patted her cheeks.

A woman with a bold aquiline nose and a high forehead like yours would be smart enough to think of change. It’s all in your being a female schoolteacher, too, and the good looks.

She looked up to the ceiling, back at me, and dropped her shoulders. Hannah? Hannah!

I held my breath. Ah, what?

Focus. It’s like you’re far away.

I’m here! I love people, sis, society may have to break tradition for me to continue wanting to embrace them. I rubbed the freckles on my face. My heart raced.

There you go again. What makes you so sure people will accept you?

My neck stiffened and a watery gaze gave me a blurred ceiling. I’m not, but can I give it a shot?

Sigatoo Isle has powerful leaders with set ideals and fixed customs. She twisted on her side to face me. To them, it’s a man’s world. Theirs. They’ll crush you.

I smoothed the blanket and clasped my hands together. I’m-I’m-I’m willing to co-operate.

My sister said, Is that what English colonial rule taught us? We’re an all-white society with strict beliefs and…

My speech grew stronger. This MS is holding me back, but I’ll persist. I’ll use my persuasive tongue.

Ellinor shifted closer to me in the bed. You English teachers think you’re on a Shakespeare stage.

Can we help that?

Thank God, Jocelyn and I are not teachers with that command of English. You read too much classic literature.

It teaches me to be self-sufficient and orderly. I want to instill this in our island leaders. They have a huge influence on society.

No need to be so conscientious.

I shook my head so hard that I developed a sudden vertigo. That’s the difference between me and you.

You should stop your queries on the island leaders.

Whose side are you on, anyway? Or whose side should you be on? We’re identical twins, and you’re crazy if you can’t think like me.

No need to be neurotic.

I slapped myself. Am I?

Hannah! You’re a novelty seeker. Cut it out. No one wants to hear about cousins not marrying cousins. It’s their beliefs. Just focus on your health.

Imagine this: the leaders nod to my idea of cousins not marrying cousins. The people bow to my suggestions. Hah! It’ll happen.

In your wildest dreams.

Wildest, indeed! I wiped my freckled face and mumbled to myself. I will win.

At sunrise, gleaming milky-quartz sunlight lit up the oceanic horizon. It didn’t last long. Turbulent waters churned the sea and whipped restless people like me with multiple sclerosis. I tossed and turned in my sick bed. A blanket of inky clouds hovered over Sigatoo Isle. The Bahamas’ golden morning struggled to show its December face.

Hurricanes create havoc from June to November, I said, that I understand, but at this time of the year? I don’t understand this weather.

A hail rain attacked the island, the harsh tempo pounding on the windowpanes of our shingle-roofed residence. The eerie drip from the gutters blocked with flying leaves, put me on edge. Winds blew storm strength, casting branches, plants, and other objects helter-skelter in the air.

It’s a curse, said Ellinor. Global warming.

Ellinor and I went silent. Our arms and legs tingled and grew numb. The room spun. Fatigue gripped us, and our fingers trembled.

My sister leaned on her side. We live together. I know you well. You’re down more than I. Open your eyes. See? I forced mine open.

Multiple sclerosis isn’t for the weak.

Ellinor bit her lower lip. Don’t overthink it.

The bedroom bureau mirror opposite us reflected two eye-catching, resilient faces an eligible bachelor would swoon for. Bad weather plunged us into mood swings, our bodies wrapped in black blankets from our necks to our toes. I began to forget where I was. Color pictures of my three cats beautified our pink knitted caps. The purple partition by my side had random, chalk-written poems in my cursive hand. The opposite wall by the couch bore an empty white. Ellinor often lay to rest on the couch.

I wanted something to occupy my mind. I gripped the collar of my pajamas. Community preserves tradition. I held a fist to my mouth.

Sociology is not your profession.

Huh? Is it yours? I made sidelong glances while keeping my head straight. Tsk! Heaven, help you.

Ellinor adjusted her night clothes and turned her back to me. Heaven’s a strange land to you.

Those are a sister’s heavenly words.

She patted her abdomen. Thanks for explaining that to an MS patient.

I squeezed her arm. That’s what sisters are for.

She turned around, nostrils flaring. I-I have a secret. Forget it.

What?

Sorry, later, forget about it.

I tapped her forehead. Lighten up. Leave flares for society.

Her reddened, puffy eyes blinked. Why should they care?

I tossed my head. They deserve me.

Keep away from the big guys in society, Hannah.

Our malady is a curse that would never get their attention.

Thunder grumbled.

I spoke in a whisper, More and more, this weather’s aggravating our disease.

Can we run away from the weather?

I slapped my forehead. Fatigue, flipping fatigue! How do we escape this sick body of ours?

We can’t, and the rumor is if you attack the leaders on a small island like this, they’ll crush you like a cockroach.

My ribs tightened, creating pressure in my core. Sigatoo Isle will tolerate one big-shot radical, but…

We have no vigor to fight.

I spoke up, Why?

Don’t disturb the ants’ nest.

And the reason?

She subdued her voice, The chiefs here are fire ants.

So, we’re the whimpers? Am I? Will I die in oblivion? I made myself smaller, my voice shaky. Do I give up whatever I need to do in society for us to be well and free?

She shot me an upturned face.

I shifted on the bed and pulled on my pajama shirt. What does that face mean?

You’re a Watts, a gentle giant who would bow to an ant to achieve your goal.

I stressed my word, I want to recover now.

Ellinor spoke in a voice as cultured as mine, It takes time. In the meantime, don’t get frustrated.

Am I to make myself inferior to who I am in a society of stubborn leaders opposing changes? I pulled down the blanket from me and riveted my eyes on her. The weather’s too awful for MS victims.

Isn’t this crisis an omen?

It’s piggybacking us, crawling somewhere. I swiped a shaky hand on my forehead to wipe off sweat. Creeping to Hades, you can say.

Fabulous! I’ll meet evangelicals and pastors face-to-face and uncover their flaws while on earth.

Won’t that be on the upper level of hell? You and I are on earth’s lower floor of torture, but don’t be so blunt. I crossed my arms over my stomach in a protective huddle. Say some, keep some.

Are you going to crap land?

Where I pig out with drivel? With you? I let out a forceful breath. Zip it!

Be careful with society.

Am I deaf? My face flushed, and I lifted my head. But I must always speak my mind.

The mulish leaders will crush you.

May I talk? I stressed my words, We are the Wattses.

Drop your chin. We have multiple sclerosis. It’s not hereditary. Why worry about society’s ills? Most people dislike agitators.

I can’t be that selfish. Mr. Walt Disney persisted and achieved, not for himself, but for the people.

Ellinor’s head cocked to the side. Your MS is going to your head, girl.

Another thunderclap struck.

I half sat on the bed, squeezed Ellinor’s right shoulder. On her behalf, I offered prayers. I would do anything to ease the emotional pain lingering in her—and me. The damn rumbling’s draining me.

Sheesh!

Who said we need company?

She shifted closer to me. W-want to…to control the weather?

I barked a laugh.

She twisted away from me. Stop worrying about things over which you have no control.

I pressed my elbows tight to my sides. I’m a worrier, can you just let me be?

You can’t change people.

Why not?

I heard you talking in your sleep the other day. About people’s affairs, let them marry who they want. Ellinor sat up on the bed. What good is it going to do you now? Doctrine is a legend.

I gazed at her profile. We have the same body, but different brains. A sudden note of contempt crept into my voice. You’re entitled to your false opinion.

She rubbed her chin. Nobody’s beatin’ you. No need to work yourself up like a jackass brayin’, kickin’, and gallopin’ down the street fighting tradition.

My arms stretched out, tensed. I-isn’t that how we accomplish things?

Her mouth lifted into a friendly smile, making her eyes crinkle at the corners. She pulled her knees together. Multiple sclerosis agonizes and gives restless nights. You can’t attack society. You don’t have the bloody vital life force.

I raised a hand. I’ll forgive you your harsh words to me.

Ellinor shifted her head away from me, her voice trembling, I accept that.

This ailment will keep me down. I say yes to the situation. I nodded, caressed her arm, and kissed her on the forehead. I jerked my legs in, my chin reaching my knees. I rubbed the tattoo on my arm. A nasty ghost lives in us.

A trickster! Her complexion paled.

I cringed. The spirit runs over our tissues and organs and crushes us.

She spoke in a quiet voice, Don’t fret so much.

Should I let my brain gather dust?

It takes time to sweep the dirt off.

That’s so easy to say. My head spun out of control, racing, searching for answers for Ellinor’s and my illness, and for society’s genetic sicknesses. I faced a brick wall. I grabbed my coffee and crashed the mug into the mirror.

Hannah!

I dropped flat on the bed and jerked the blanket over my head. Noooo! I pressed my palms over my face and convulsed. I-I must live and fight. But I can’t. I slid the cover down an inch and surveyed the damage I did to the looking glass. I’m a teacher, a poet, and an artist. It has taught me much.

Show off.

I must act the part as a lady.

When the time comes, she said. You’re now sick with a grave disease.

I jerked my head to her. I’m alive.

Thank God.

I blinked less. Psychosis does exist in the family.

She scratched her chin. You might be an example, but I’m not a psychologist to judge.

I cocked my head to the side. Why do you think you’re some made-up healer telling me I can’t function with multiple sclerosis?

Are you a mastermind?

I pushed my head up, clamped my eyes shut, and clasped my hands, trembling.

My sister needs help. Summon a doctor.

I faked a call to a psychiatrist. Hello, Mr. Headshrinker! I want to make an appointment for Ellinor Watts and Sigatoo Isle. I coughed a chuckle.

Um, you’re the one who’s definitely nuts.

I still clung to the unnatural act. We need support for our MS and your state of mind. I put down the make-believe phone. For your intellect, we need assistance from the Higher Power. I lowered my brows. The truth is: no doctor can cure us.

Our entire family needs relief from their ailments. Sick-os we all are.

I sprang up and probed her clear eyes in contrast to her mottled skin. That’s typical you.

Focus on the Wattses and forget society.

I am. I grabbed my sister by the shoulders and shook her. I willed myself to smile and soften my tone. Crazy me. I shifted closer to her. But I still adore you.

I respect you, and yes, you’re crazier than I am, by far.

I didn’t follow up with her. I may start with folks at home…

Hannah, no!

I’ll provoke the world and…

You’re psychotic.

I closed my eyes and raised my chin. I’ll calm my ego.

Soothe your self-esteem first.

I will.

She sneered and barked a laugh. I don’t wish you any misfortune.

I’m getting out of here.

Are you locked up in a zoo?

To the window, I marched. Rain attacked Sigatoo Island, and mist blanketed the rainfall. I stared into the fog and disappeared into the clouds. Before the tragic moment, during my golden teenage years, I had frolicked with friends, my head full of hair in a waist-level ponytail. At twenty, it all vanished, but it never kept me away from society.

A bombshell of a rumble hit our roof and brought me back to the moment. An ethereal, inner voice spoke to me. I listened well and said, Ah-ha, ah-ha. I let my voice grow gruff and I said to my sister, "Right now, I’m