by Richie Drenz
(((Rrring. Rrring.)))
The door opened finally and the phone was still ringing. The security stopped in mid movement and turned back around. Daddy didn’t waste a second. He snatched up the phone just in time to miss the call by less than a second. It was the second missed call. We waited on Leelia’s third call.
(((Rrring. Rrring.)))
See there. Mommy not answering her phone. Nothing more than the genial Pinky up to her antics and ism-skisms again. Hsst.
I locked the door. Not calling back a third time. Shifted the pile of CD’s neatly in a straight line by the side of the radio. Shut off my phone.
CHAPTER 26
Use your Head
by: Pinky
We waited and waited and waited on the third call 3:18, Less than twenty-five minutes to go. No call.
Daddy had the unringing phone in his hand. We were slogging in bottomless despair to Vance’s bedside, not looking at each other, not speaking to each other. Dad stopped.
“Why you don’t use Aubrea’s phone and call her back?” I didn't know why I hadn’t thought of that. She’d see the call coming from Aubrea, and we all knew that once it was Aubrea calling and Lee saw, Lee would answer the call no doubt. Because Aubrea was Leelia’s beginning and ending like quotation marks.
“But what if she lock off back her phone?”
“Just try it Pinky, how else you gone know?”
“But through she did —-“
“You head tough? ... Just call the blasted thing. Hsst. You wasting time. Call.”
“But suppose —-” Daddy’s patience was sitting on the edge of a cliff and my questions were pushing him over the edge.
“JUST CALL ... CALL ... HOLY NAZARETH MAN! “
Not another beat went by. I dialled Lee’s number hoping Leelia had her phone on. Daddy eyes were glaring impatiently. The call was unsuccessful. Aubrea’s phone had no credit.
“No credit not on her phone.”
“Then transfer your credit to your mother phone quick nuh.”
“But when mi send my little credit to Aubrea phone, how mi get it back?”
“Christ man! Mi will buy back a credit, just do it.”
Mi *128* off my credit to Aubrea’s phone. A notification came on my phone, advising me that my balance was $26.23. I needed at least $27.00 to transfer credit. You see if mi did just hang up in Gloe’s ears a little earlier, mi could’ve make the transfer. Mi wonder if Digicel realised this was an emergency.
“Mi can’t transfer it Daddy, mi don't have enough. You don’t have no credit on your phone?”
“You deaf or something? Mi said mi run out leave mi phone at the church. Is not you same one say that them must thief the little piece of old Nokia?”
“You gone bite off my head? Why you acting like so for?
“Stop chat frigging foolishness man. All of this is your fault.”
“My fault? My fault? Is me tell Vance to born with heart problem?”
“If you never —-”
“Don't bother try come pin no blame on mi, ’cause mi don't do nothing. The all of you stand up in the damn church like poppy-show and not doing a thing after the gal come to mash up Lee wedding.”
Daddy squinted his eyes to narrow slits, grabbed my arm. Mi flash him off.
“You think mi is a little child? Is who you think you can just come grab up so?”
Daddy didn’t use his mouth, annoyance and chagrin in his knitted brows. He snatched my arm again, unspeaking. Mi flash out his big burly hand, shoved him in his pigeon chest with a force that could flatten the Hylton’s Hotel. His strapping body staggered backward in an awkward motion on his bad leg. The inquisitive security was scampering over to us, shouting with one hand waving at us and the other hand holding down the peak of his security cap.
“Yow! Yow! What happening over there so? ... None of that! None of that!”
Daddy shattered my face with the hottest box I had ever got in my entire life. I felt a burning heat almost pulsing like a heartbeat out the red fingerprint marks that wailed my face. It was burning so much that the slight breeze against it stung me. I could not touch it. Water came to my eyes. Daddy stood stiff and spoke stern.
“Have manners little girl, you still mi daughter.”
Mi spit to the side. It was a mixture of white and red. I looked at a big rock stone on the ground, but ... I didn’t bend for it. I hugged Daddy and cried. He hugged me, rubbed my back. Mi rested mi head on his shoulder, he rested one hand at the back of my head, hushing me. The security walked back to his station glimpsing over his shoulder at us several times.
“Sorry man Pinky, but sometimes you need to think before you do things.” I leaned off his shoulder, fixed the weed in my bosom and replied,
“Yeah, but mi never want mi sister wedding spoil.” Mi wiped my lips, and as my hand went down to my side. He held on to both my hands and held them steady at my side.
“Well if you did talk to the girl or even just hold her back, none of us wouldn’t be here so now.”
Daddy didn’t argue further, instead he asked,
“Is what time now?”
“Three twenty nine.” Less than fifteen minutes. Vance was a goner. No way on earth Leelia could reach in less than fifteen minutes, it was not physically possible. I spoke with strong hope and determination in my voice,
“Alright. Let’s run go buy a credit to put on Aubrea phone, hopefully Leelia phone still on. Because if she got the credit card number we can still make it.”
“It can work so? Mi never know that.”
A twinkle was in his eyes. The same proud twinkle that was in his eyes when mi get the highest average in the entire eighth grade, ninth grade and eleventh grade. I guessed he was proud of my wits. We rushed outside the hospital, looked right and left and spotted a Digicel poster sticking out the side of a blue board shop under a huge guango tree down the road.
We hurried over. I stood by the red igloo that was on four blocks. You could pick up that the cover of the igloo was originally white, but now it looked closer to black dirt color. Dad stretched a five hundred dollar bill to the heavy-breasted old-lady. The sleeve of her oversized t-shirt, with Digicel printed in the chest, caught in the lollipops sticking up out the jar by the counter as she served the card. Dad handed me the card, staring blankly into Mars. I scratched the silver off the back of the voucher with my false nails and punched in the voucher number to Aubrea’s phone. The time on her phone was 3:36. I hastened to call Aubrea. Daddy spoke with the old lady.
“You don’t have anything strong to drink in there?”
The sound her thin lips made when she smacked her toothless mash mouth was louder than her shaky voice. “Like what mi son?”
“Like some rum or so.”
“No, but you can go check the bar down the road.”
“Where?” She stuck her saggy neck through the opening of the blue counter door. Her voice got even more wobbly as she spoke,
“You see where that man stand up in the blue shirt?”
“Beside the orange container?” Dad asked. She shook her head impatiently.
“No, no. Watch mi where mi pointing nuh.” She pointed with one finger, the deep wrinkles wrapping around her knuckles looked like seasoned creases in genuine leather handbags. “Right at the red awning, you don’t see the police car and the man in the blue stripe shirt beside it?”
Daddy was nodding yes while she continued to direct him. Mi couldn’t move as I saw what was in Aubrea’s phone. Daddy answered her letting her know that his head not that thick.
“Yeah man, yeah man, mi see is where. Thank you Grandma.”
“Yeah man sonny.”
Mi just staring on the phone and can’t believe this all now.
“Pinky call Leelia. You don’t realise that time going?”
Mi dial Lee, before mi go check out what is going on in Aubrea phone. Lee’s phone did turn off. Mi dial again. Off. And again. Still off. One more time. Off.
“Same thin
g Daddy, her phone turn off.”
Daddy didn’t answer, only stared. Mi know he couldn’t bear to go back to Vance’s grave. His face was falling apart. The time passed and we never got to Leelia. Vance was and should be dead.
“What now Daddy?” Daddy’s mind went fishing. No response. Body froze. “Daddy!” He jerked and jumped back into reality. “What now?”
“Come we go get a little sip and come back.”
“Daddy? ... Now? What’s wrong with you?”
“Yeah man. Now. Mi stress out Pinks.” I akimboed.
“Is joke you making. Don’t? Mi not going inside no bar with you enuh. Try know that.”
“Alright. You can wait here so then.”
“What’s wrong with you and rum? You don't learn from what did happen? It spoil your life and up to now you still paying for it and you still won’t stop drinking. You need to stop!”
Daddy’s mind went to a small town in China, deep in thoughts as he stared through my forehead. His head slowly went down and then he waltzed off, almost in a trance-like state or doing some deep reflection. He headed in the direction of the bar.
I looked shockingly at Aubrea’s phone.
This couldn’t be what I believed it was. Aubrea wouldn’t even dream of doing this. Would she? She must be frigging mad! No way.
CHAPTER 27
Vodka in My Heart String
by: David Lexings
Pinky can’t even begin to understand the heap of stress mi going through. How mi mustn’t have a drink? Mi head feel like it’s busting up to bloodseed. Mi can’t even gather myself to go back to the hospital. Vance out to die and it feels like is mi dying. Even though I don’t think Vance is ... well, at least mi still not sure that Vance is my child, and the rumours make it even worse. You know, the more mi think ’bout this, is the more mi want... the more mi need a drink. Vodka. No ice. Maybe Pinky’s right. I should try and slow down my drinking. Mi stop in my tracks, turned ’round, looked at Pinky, and my body swelled then deflated as I breathed out with a big round puff, dropped my shoulders. Bloodseed yaah man, Hsst ... Mi need a strong drink. I turned back around and walked down the scanty street, heading straight to the bar. Vodka.
I stopped at the bar door. Right by the door was a chalkboard, it was about waist high, it stood on two thick wooden legs. The writing on the black of the chalkboard was in two colors, white and pink. Written in pink, big and bold and in all capital letters was, ‘WELCOME TO YOUR FAVORITE RUMSHOP’. I nodded my head, yes. Underneath it, written in white was, ‘Rum on Special Today and Everyday.’ I smiled, nodded, ahhh, my kind of place.
You know what, I still wasn’t so sure if I should go into a bar now. You know. My mind was cloudy about the decision, I thought twice before I set foot through the rumshop door. Looked across the street at the police car parked up. Looked up the road at Pinky again; she was pressing the buttons on Aubrea’s phone as if she were searching it. Just one drink won’t kill mi. That would help, Just a quick drink, one or maybe a little more than one. Mi head mash up bad yaah man. Mi just going drink till mi satisfied, blurt-naught man, drink till mi red. I felt someone pounced into my back as they walked by me, it was a young man, he was apologising,
“Sorry sir, sorry.”
What’s wrong with this brother man? Hsst, I wondered, why young men wouldn’t wear their pants on their bom-bawt waist? The youth was wearing a long sleeve beige shirt and his beige jeans shorts was one shade darker than his shirt. His pants was buckled almost exactly where his shirt tail ended, mid-way his thigh. Lord these young men need Jesus. I shouted at him,
“Draw up your backside pants man! Look how the sidewalk big and empty and you still come and bounce up behind people, with your pants draw down to your knee. You is what? Faggot?” He didn’t look back.
That couldn’t be me just awhile ago. It wasn’t like me to lose my temper. See, I really needed to wash this stress away in some white rum or something strong. I sucked in a deep breath, shaking my head, walking into the bar and stepping out the bright sun.
After one step into the dimly lit bar, I stopped, looked around. Inside the bar looked like midnight to my eyes freshly leaving out the blinding sun. I squinted my eyes to see as inside slowly got brighter and brighter to my vision. Maybe because it’s early Sunday evening why inside this bar so empty. I looked to the left, towards the L-shape bar counter. Mi come here already. Or so it seemed. Mi sense something kind of familiar, the feeling, a vibe, the place, something.
But then again, when you drank in as many bar as mi, they all seemed familiar, a strange umbilical-cord or navel-string feeling to it, to me, it felt like ... like ... my second home. Only without the quarrels and nag-naggings from my ungrateful wretched wife. Ahh ... Bars ... What an escape. My escape.
I strutted over eyeing the few rumheads that sat close to the window directly ahead of me. Took a seat on a high stool at the counter. The short bartender wearing green blouse with splices in the back, tight green batty-rider shorts, green bangles and green earrings turned around from the sink when she felt my shadow on her. She was chopping a green bubble gum like cow chewing their cods. I ordered a drink and smiled at how she was severely green like a fifty dollar bundle of callaloo. Mi laugh out loud. Big laugh.
Rawtid. It looked mi did something wrong, or as if mi mustn’t smile. The short feisty green leprechaun looked me up and down, up and down again, knitted her thinly shaved brows that was very obviously over-brightened with eye-brow pencil, and said,
“Is what sweet you? Which part the joke?”
I made my order.
“Yeah, aahm,” but the look mi go look on her again, her mouth chopping away, tongue as big as a cow’s, and swirling the little piece of green bubble gum round and round in her mouth, made me chuckled. Mi skin my teeth all the way through my order “A drink ... tehehe ... of Vodka ..tehe ...No ice.”
I lifted my other foot up an rested it on the cross bar of the stool as I begun to relax, gave it a slight swindle, facing the bar head on. The only place that seemed to relieve my stress. Bars. We go way back don’t we? Ahh, yes, we have a history. The bartender tugged at the big knot of her blouse that she tied to her side. A quick tug just to keep the knot tight and in place, right above her belly, making sure she expose her soft porridgy belly along with a few stretch marks mostly to the side.
She poured me a drink quite professionally. I, in return, gwapped it down professionally, one drink, shook the glass, drained it, slammed the glass down on the counter. I Clamped my teeth together, the skin of my face pushing down from my forehead and pushing up from my chin to form all the folding in the middle of my face, widening my nose. The harsh vodka flamed in my throat. I cringed. Shut my eyes, hung my head down, shaking my head side to side as the fire of the vodka spreads in my stomach and burns inside my belly, warm, hot,
“Awsh!” I grunted through tightly gritted teeth, “A next one baby-love.”
A familiar feeling. I sat here before, said those words a thousand times before. Was it this very same place? Same face? Did I dream this before? Lived it before? The familiarity of it was so close I could touch it, grab it, squeeze it. Deja-vu? I searched my memory but all that was flashing in my head were pictures, scenes, still shots of my most haunting memory twenty-one years ago. It was me and Pinky. Pinky was only three year old and underfed.
I drew the glass closer to me along the wooden counter. Dazed down at the clear vodka in my glass, so pure, so smooth, so calming. The light dancing ripples spreading in small circles and running from the centre to edge of the glass. A peace formed within me. I took a relaxed breath. Took another deep one and my body swelled as I inhaled deep. I drifted far in thoughts, reflecting on memories. Cold harsh memories. That night in the kitchen. It was dark, and Aubrea’s voice was in the background. I felt like choking the bitch to death.
CHAPTER 28
Dig Up in Mi Mother’s Business
by: Pinky
Booming loud and bass kicking. The blaring mus
ic got louder and closer, Kartel’s song ‘Back to Reality’ blasting out the speakers. I turned around on the sidewalk, faced the road in curiosity, eyes searching to see which vehicle was playing his new song that he did from in prison, the tune shot. I saw a white extra-large Avalanche van. Mi jiggle mi bottom to the rhythm, not even realising it.
Mi vision concentrated deeper in the vehicle to see who was the driver. His little round head was the size of a sea-shore pebble, bopping terribly offbeat to the music, a big spliff hanging from the side of his mouth that could be mistaken for a white ice-cream cone with a big orange fire at the head. Mi laugh to myself, thinking, watch the little mawga stickman in that rhinosaurus van. I laughed harder when I saw how he was trying to look cool but looked so damn funny, bopping his head completely offbeat. Watch the idiot. Watch him. Mi bust out laughing when the spliff dropped out his mouth and he was hurriedly brushing out the fire from his crotch. Damn fool. Hsst.
The old lady’s voice was trying to get someone’s attention,
“Hey! Hey!” Flagging her hand through the counter trying to get Daddy’s attention. Daddy kept walking down to the bar. She turned her head to me and spoke.
“Sweetie, shout the brown man for mi.”
“Is what?”
“Him gone leave him change. Him soon come back?”
“That’s cool man Mama. Just give mi a pack of cigarette, Matterhorn, and a pack of Rizzla with the change. And you can give me some icy mints if any jinglings leave.”
Mi really want know why Aubrea doing this. Why this morning she’d be calling my man? But hold on there, if this last dial time saying 8:38 a.m. that mean to say, is just before Leelia wedding start. Something just don't look good about this call here. I didn't even know Aubrea had mi man number much less to call him in early tea time hours. Mi don't trust a bone in Aubrea; that’s why mi searching through her whole damn phone. Mi need to get down to the bottom of this today. Mi going into her messages to see if mi see anything suspicious, mi have to find out what’s up between them.
