by Richie Drenz
Leaving someone you love behind, with you being their one and only support is a hard decision to make. Leaving Mama and Tatiana is a huge decision for me. My life. A big deal, but Mama will be proud of me once I get the link from Portia and settle down. Tatiana gonna miss me but eventually she would understand that her Daddy looking for a better life for him and her. And as soon as I earned my citizenship, I’m filing for her and Mama. Just as I got a text from Lia, this happens. I think when she hears of what happened lastnight she’ll lose all hope in me. Her text was a strange one, the other day. I wondered if she still thinks about me romantically like I do her. What the hell, I shouldn’t even care what she thinks anymore, she’s uptown, belong to Qwan, and only see me as her friend, not even a close one. She would never give me a chance. I have a daughter and she was as good as having a husband. So why she texted me that?
Definitely gonna miss my chargie, Pinky. Most people think mi and Pinky doing things, not a relationship, but because we so close people think that we must have sex already. Maybe that's the reason Lia standing off. Naah, couldn’t be, Lia knows Pinky is not my type, doesn’t she? Let’s be honest with myself, me and Pinky would make great partners, she’s my kind of girl, that’s why we so close. I could spend my whole life with Pinky, but she is with one of my closest friends, Finaral, who is one of the most murderous man I ever heard of. So even if we would, I wouldn’t. You feel mi? Lia I wished we had gotten to talk before I leave. Lia, Lia, Lia. Still staring at my journal in my hand, I remembered the poems I wrote her in my journal, but had never given any to her. I made a breathy sigh, a feint scent of tin mackerel was still in the house though we ate more than twenty minutes ago. I put the journal in my suitcase.
Knowing Portia I can’t depend on her link but it’s better than no link at all, right? How Portia stay, she love to hype up things and talk ’bout she’s going to get this and get that artist to pass through, and this and that selector, cheap link to bullets, links with this and that Don, and most of what she says never come through. Not saying none didn’t come through before, because couple of them did. Like the one she made at the wharf, with the barrel of Blackberry Curves, that was legit, but most time, she just love chat and hype things, so it’s hard to know when her link legit or not. I’m praying the one in Cali legit, because what will happen to me in the future all depend on this. Mama hobbled through my room door.
“Ajrien you don’t think you should give Agri-Processors at least a week notice before you resign? Can't just burn your bridges behind you enuh.” She began hobbling from the door towards me by the bed, “Don't think you should just up and leave just so. You don’t even have any friends or family in Cali, why you taking that job?” She hobbled closer, “Tell them give you a week to sort out things in Jamaica, any company dealing with immigrant labour must can understand that. From when you applied?”
I couldn’t look in Mama’s eyes. I didn't turn around, I told her too many lies. I had no choice. I had to in order to hide my underworld life. Mama have no idea what a young youth had to do to prove himself in the ghetto, just to not become the next beating stick of the ghetto. I had to be gangster, even if I rather to not run the streets. I had to show Finaral I was tough. I had to lie to Mama about it even if I rather not to. Told her so many lies about where I went at nights - parties, friends, girlfriend. All lies. To her I’m Ajrien her intelligent and ambitious son who works an honest nine to five to support her and my daughter. To the streets, I’m Vybz, the gangster with the brain. Except for lastnight. And even though I don't want to, this afternoon I’m telling Mama the biggest lie.
“If I don’t go to Cali today, I won't get the job, it pays eight hundred U.S. per week. I got to go Mama.”
I wasn’t going to Cali to any job. I pulled the zip around the suit case and lift it to standing on its wheels on the floor.
“Mama, meditate. This is the best way to take you out of the ghetto like you’ve always dreamed. I’m doing this for us. This is the opportunity of a lifetime. For us, and Tati. I got to go.”
“It just look strange for you to get a call late in the night and you packing and leaving already, the next day. Something just don't feel right ’bout this thing and you know my feeling usually don't wrong.”
I turned around, looked at her withered face. I should just be honest with her, tell her I was going up to escape my guilt and this gangster life, a life that had gotten way too far lastnight. This life wasn’t me, just wanted to prove to my friends that I was thugged. I couldn’t afford for anyone calling me Sissy like Vance, or let no one ride my back with ridicule. I had to show them that I’m tough. So of course I hid my journal from them, the only friend I showed my journal was Pinky, she knew I wrote, but I never gave her my journal to read. I hide it from all my brethrens, they’ll think my stories and poetry is too sentimental, girly and soft. A thug can’t have that. I couldn’t tell Mama I was a gangster either, it would make her angry. Make tears come to her sick eyes, have her wondering what have she grown her boy to become, but it wasn’t her, it was the streets. I was the streets. And I couldn’t tell her about what happened lastnight, it would kill her the very minute anywhere she stood. I pulled the handle of the suitcase and it extended out for me to haul.
“Mama, got to go.” I was striding by her, wheeling the luggage.
“You sure you not lying to me Ajrien? Look at me.” She touched me at my waist as I hauled the suitcase by her, tried to subside my emotions. I couldn’t. I stopped. “Who’s going to be here with us if nothing happen, God forbid?” Her eyes were weakening. "What if things don’t work out up at foreign? How mi and Tatiana going to eat?”
I couldn’t look back at her, I gazed ahead at the door. I’m usually an optimist, but in reality things could get really atrocious. Portia link is my dying straw of hope. I really want it to come through so I can really uplift Mama’s life. Turn this negative that had happened to me to drive me into a positive. Mama been suffering long enough.
I looked at my hand, my fourth finger, it had a plastic ring. Lia had given me the ring six years ago. We were kids, playing, but serious. Marriage. I was so right for her then. Now I’m so wrong. I guess that’s how life is, people change as time goes by. Situation and circumstances change people. We have grown to be two different persons. She went uptown, I went gangster. I ran my hand over Mama’s wrinkled hand at my side.
“Everything will be alright.” I remembered the card, “Almost forget.” I brushed the left side of my blazer open and went into the top pocket of my button up shirt. “Here.” I handed her my bank card, “Use this till I get myself together up there.”
I ran a quick mental check to see if I was leaving anything that I would need. No. The four things I valued the most I had, my journal, a wallet size pic of Tati and Mama, my credit card and my white plastic ring. Nothing else mattered that much. Time to leave.
Tatiana rompingly skipped through the door, vivaciously hopping in the same spot. Dropped her blue Dora the Explorer Lunch-pan at her feet and clapping with her tiny finger spread wide apart and missing the clap on some occasions. Her blue and white uniform bouncing to the rhythm of her energetic hops, her forehead sweating from the hot sun outside. One of her pink knapsack’s straps slinking about to fall off her shoulder, you can actually see the dry dust on her blue socks and black shoe, except for the silver buckle at the side of her shoe. She swung both hands up to me for a hug. I smiled, hugged my little princess.
“Monster Daddy, plway monster ... tehehe” The Monster game she was talking about was Hide and Seek, but I’m the monster looking for her, and when I found her I gobbled her knees. She giggled loudly when she hid so I could find her quickly and eat her knee. That's the part she loved. She absolutely loved it, eyes became sparkly, giggled endlessly as I playfully gobbled her knee.
“Can’t play now sweetface. Got to go.”
“Tehehe ... Daddy where you going?”
“Remember what I told you this morning sweetface?”
“Yeah ... You going in the sky.”
“Not in the sky baby, in a plane.” Tati had a slight lisp from the couple of teeth missing from her mouth, her voice was mostly sing-songy when she spoke,
“Really really and truly ruly going on plane Daddy?” She pointed one finger up to the roof. “Up there so? In the sky?”
Maybe leaving wasn’t the right thing after all. I frisked my hand in her thick head of hair, nodding, yes. She asked the darnest questions. Her round face as broad as pie, her cheeks puffy, smiling and wiggling her head out of my frisking hand,
“Stop spwoil my hairstyle Daddy. I’mma hot girl.” This little big woman was so cute, and seemed smarter than Google for two and a half years old, a blessing to me.
“Who tell you that you are a hot girl?” She fixed her knapsack’s strap properly on her shoulder, akimboed and rocking, said
“Aunty Pinky!” She smiled, her eyes proud, "Daddy, want come with you, plwease, plwease.” She grabbed onto my suitcase handle, started pulling, helping me with the suitcase.
"Oh, no, no, Hold on, you can't sweetface. Well not yet. You have school tomorrow.”
"No. Not sweetface Daddy, hot girl... Is your plane? You must Brwing back ice-cream and cheese-balls for me.” I watched her in awe, she was just in my scrotum like yesterday. “You want mi give you money to buy ice-cream Daddy? She generously dipped in her uniform like she had money. Mama smiled, my heart smiled, my face smiled, “You soon come back Daddy?”
We stopped smiling. There was a sudden eruption of silence in the room that was heavy on our hearts and awkward. She looked at me. Mama looked at me. I gazed at them both. The cataract was spreading in Mama’s eye, almost covering half of her pupil. I replied,
“I don’t know.”
“Come back tomorrow Daddy, or else mi ...” She lashed her hand by her bottom suggestive of whipping me. “beat your bottom.” She smiled, she was so joyous. “We can play Monster tomorrow when you come back Daddy?”
I didn’t want to lie to her, but I couldn’t tell her the whole truth. My phone beeped. A text. It was Portia. I read it. It read
‘You have to link mi right now. Stop by at work before you leave and how you never answer what mi ask you lastnight? You doing it or not?’
From the tone of the text I knew it spelled some disaster. I hoped this had nothing to do with what happened lastnight, or worse anything bad about the link in Cali, or worserer bad news about both. The taxi tooted its horn outside. I looked at Tati waiting for the ice-cream and Monster tomorrow, looked in Mama’s cataract eye, kissed Mama. Kissed Tati.
“Have to go.”
Tati was no fool. she sensed it was more than tomorrow, by the look in my face and by the aura around us. She felt it. Her face changed, her smile disappeared. She stepped towards me. Her feet bounced her Dora lunch-pan that was on the floor. It fell over, spilled opened, her lunch container an juice bottle rolled out. She didn’t look at it, she looked in my eyes and insisted
"Daddy don't go.”
“Got to go sweetface, I got to go.”
CHAPTER 36
Who Dead
by: Leelia Lexings
It was a surprise how huge the crowd was already. The accident was a lot nastier than I had imagined. There was a river of blood on the black tar. A totally dismantled red Suzuki Swift and a white coaster bus. The coaster crashed head on with the small Suzuki Swift . The petrified crowd surrounded the dead body. A bald head gentleman.
The driver had smashed through his windscreen and was laying against shattered glass from windscreen, headlights, and orange and red indicators. Blood pouring from his split skull. Instantly my mouth and stomach felt provoked. I tasted earthworms in my mouth and felt them wiggling. I covered my mouth. A young girl probed up-close to the disgusting sight of the dead body, curious to see more clearly in the night what the body looked like. She vomited lumpy chunks of pink, orange and brown slush in a watery mixture at the sight of inside the man’s head and the raw smell of his blood and brain. She spewed one more mouthful of vomit slush on top of the already colourful muck on the ground.
The witnesses all seemed more angry than shocked. The bus driver walked in every direction and in circles, his two hands on his head, his fingers squashed down into his huge afro. He was chatting non-stop.
“Is swing mi did have to swing out of the green Rover boy that run through the redlight enuh. Suppose mi never did swing? With the speed him come round the corner the whole bus load of people would’ve dead off to pussyclawt.” He stopped and looked at an office attired lady that must have been on the bus, seeking her approval “Don’t? You see that is Jah-Jah guide the bus though mumma?”
My eyes instinctively searched the surrounding for the Rover that caused the accident. Nowhere in sight. Gone.
“Him not even stop after him ram up in the little youth vehicle and kill off the youth.”
The driver took one of his hand off his head. Shoved his hand down his big jeans with its waist two times the size of the driver waist, hauled up and draped up around his belly by a slim belt. He shuffled his hand up and down his pocket. Took out a slim silver phone. Dialled, one hand still on his head. A market lady asked aloud,
“Nobody don’t catch his licence plate number?”
“Mi catch the number.” A student still in his khaki pants and white shirt said.
Mr. Douglas had no conscience. He could run but they still gonna find him anyway. I bet he must have raced home. I hurried my barefoot across the road to the red plate taxi and chartered it straight to Mr. Douglas’ house.
I reached. The crushed Rover was there, parked. The property was closed. The steel gate padlocked. The guard, Mr. Willie, was in the white guard room to the side of the wide gate. This is a problem. I wondered if Mr. Willie knew I was no longer entitled to enter the property without consent. My wedding drama was the hottest mix-up in the entire area, because of how popular the Douglas family were and to have such a propaganda at Mr. Douglas’ son wedding was headline mix-up. Well apart from the dirt I had on Mr. Douglas. Mr. Willie must have heard about the wedding, of that I’m sure. How should I approach this? Shoot. Only one way. Here goes.
CHAPTER 37
Persuasion
by: Leelia Lexings
“Hey, night Mr Willie. How things man?”
“Goodnight Ms. Leelia, longtime mi don't see you ’round this side.”
“Yeah. Been up and down. Busy. Really been awhile for true. Can you believe I left my keys at home? Oh silly me. Let me in please.”
Mr. Willie put down his Pepsi on the guard table, turned the volume knob down on the small radio. His black rubber watch was buckled in the last hole on the watchband but it’s still swingled around his fine wrist. His navy blue guard uniform was baggy and slinky on him. He definitely didn’t have the built to be a security.
“You leave your keys? ... How?”
“The haste.”
“Boy Ms. Leelia, mi hear ’bout what happen at the wedding. Sorry to hear that man. Up to this morning mi and my wife was talking ’bout it.” He spun the silver key in the huge padlock, unchained the gate and opened it.
“I know right. It’s Ok still, we worked it out.” Walking through the gate with a feeling of relief, yes I got in. Mr. Willie wrote my name down in the visitors’ log book. Stopped writing. Looked up at me suspiciously.
“But wait ...” He paused, “Come out back one second Ms. Leelia.”
“Why Mr. Will?”
“You just come out back little.”
“Why?”
CHAPTER 38
Mr. Willie Hold the Keys
by: Leelia Lexings
I stood inside the property still. Staring at Mr. Willie in disbelief.
“Mr. Willie? Do better than that, don’t treat me like mi a thief.”
“You is not no thief Ms. Leelia, but just come back out one second please.”
I looked to the apartment complex. It was a lengthy dash from here. I’m not in heel
s, barefoot. Should be able to sprint leave Mr. Willie. I thought hard. Looked at Mr. Willie back at the complex, back at Mr. Willie. My steps towards the gate and back through were slow. He spun back the lock close. But why should Mr. Willie treat me like a stranger? We cool. I made him lasagne for lunch every Saturday when I lived here. I glared at Mr. Willie in disbelief. I was no thief. I touched between my bosom.
“It’s me enuh Mr. Willie. Leelia.”
“Yes Ms. Leelia, mi know is you from you walking come up the gate...” His small eyes were like two black beads staring at me through the night’s darkness, his face shaved clean and his receding hairline an ill-shaped semicircle, “But mi not sure mi can let you in?”
“Of course Mr. Willie man. Why not?”
“Mi don't want get in no trouble.”
“What kind of trouble? It’s me. What mi going to do? Rob the complex?”
“Mi doing mi job. Mi following procedures. Mi just get some orders and mi have to check out something first. It alright with you if mi do my job? Or you want tell mi how to do my job?”
“You think mi would really do you that?”
His beady eyes studied my expression then he sputtered,
“Well ... well ... trouble don’t set like rain enuh, you don't know when it coming ... Hear what, just hold on right outside there.” He walked back into the guard booth. Today is not my day with securities. Hsst. I Shook my head. Sigh.
“What is it Mr. Willie?”
“Stop pressure mi nuh ... Just wait let mi call Mr. Douglas first to make sure. Mi don't want lose mi job, because it’s mi little bread and butter.”
I texted Pinky. I wrote in the text
‘Sis can you believe is two times today mi in pure problems with security? Can I have so much bad luck?’ Mr. Willie was still on the phone.