by Richie Drenz
Embarrassment swallowed Marj totally. Either her bank was having problems or all the money on the bankcard was gone. Two million seven hundred thousand. She held her head down and tipped the Indian bagger five hundred dollars. The guy behind her was laughing loud and brought everyone's attention to her. She strained not to blink as she walked pass the bag of groceries and head to the exit door, because she didn’t want the tears from her eyes to fall until she reached in her car. Somehow the tears in her eyes felt heavy. She blinked. Though the tears were there she didn’t wipe it to make it obvious. She pretended as if she was ok, keeping her head straight to the door so her eyes didn’t have to meet anyone’s. She felt as if she had forgotten how to walk in heels. Every time she placed one foot in front the other, she felt wobbly and off balance as if she was about to fall as everyone eyed her. She pretended not to be in a haste to open the door, but she was dying to get out of the eyeshot of everyone. She was pulling and fighting the door when it was boldly written push. The Indian ran to her and pushed the door open for her, he spotted the tear rolling down her face and said nothing, just looked away having the urge to give her back the tip she gave him.
She wiped her eyes, beeped the automatic car lock open and opened the car door easily. But she didn’t drive off. She was too teary eyed. She waited to cool down. She had never been so humiliated in her life. She wanted to run away from it all. What is her life coming to. Her life was falling apart. Dr. Kemp is driving her insane. Wrecking her life. So torn up she wanted to run away from it all. The more she waited and thought, the less embarrassed she felt and the angrier she got.
Speeding in her car to reach home she muttered, still in disbelief, this couldn’t be reality.
“Two million seven hundred thousand.”
Stepped on the gas pedal.
“Two million seven hundred thousand! What in the world could he have done with two million seven hundred thousand dollars, all at once? Eeeeh?”
She jammed on a sudden brake as it came to her consciousness that she was about to speed through a red light. The tyres screeched and the entire car slammed, jerking forward and back, chucking her handbag out the driver’s seat from the sharp stop just in time from slamming into a blue Nissan Bluebird in front her that she didn’t even see. Just as how she did not see the red light.
“Two million seven hundred flipping thousand!”
She punched the car horn then bit her fist.
“Two point seven million!”
As the Gods would have it, in perfect timing Bert’s romantic text came in. She repeated her mantra trying to calm down before she opened the message, unaware that Bert was professing his love. She chanted her mantra eleven times before she actually calmed down,
“For better or for worse. For better or for worse.”
Took a deep inhale and opened the message. It read,
'Marj I just got in from off the road, I left my phone at home by accident. I really do love you even though I'm mad. I know one day I'll be better, I can feel it. Just please be with me long enough to prove it to you. I have a big surprise waiting for you at home on the front lawn. I know this is the most trying times between us. So I've burnt down the house flat. I love you baby.'
Marj’s red blood veins pulped in her eyes. She shouted,
“I'm going to kill him!”
CHAPTER 10
MISSING TEETH
“Look yah Bert mi a bawl white. A you mek mi a bawl enuh.”
Earlier in the day, Clivey didn’t knock, he just pulled Bert’s door and went in the house like he lived there. Bert was sitting in his sofa looking terribly depressed. He was talking to Bert but Bert wasn’t in any talking mood it seemed. He wasn’t answering Clivey, his mind lost in space close to Mars. He had his hand on his jaw. He was deep in thoughts. Thinking about something deep and soulful it seemed. He was thinking about his front teeth missing. He wasn’t smiling when Clivey sat beside him, he asked Clivey in a slow considering voice.
“You ever miss four front teeth yet? Two a top and two from bottom?”
“Wha?”
“Four a you front teeth ever absent from out a your gum, like when likkle pickney absent from school?”
“Dat nuh mek nuh sense. But no.”
“You can imagine how dat feel?”
“Fi absent from school?” Clivey asked.
“No. Fi dem absent out a your gum.”
“No. That’s why mi stop drink soda,” Clivey said, “and start smoke bay ganja, because mi nuh want lose mi teeth.”
“You can imagine how the absence feel?”
“As a man or a woman? Clivey asked.
“As a man.”
“Well, It hard fi pass a job interview when you front teeth missing. You can’t smile.”
“You half-right. As a woman then.”
“Well, as a woman it must hard fi get a good husband when your four front teeth gone.”
“No. You feel like you just nuh want smile.” Bert said softly.
Clivey thought about it for a short while, he nodded yes. Slowly Bert asked a new question.
“You ever miss couple corner teeth yet?”
Still slow and sad. Clivey answered,
“No.”
“You know weh that feel like?”
“Like you can’t chaw your food.”
“Yeah. Straight cut and swallow,” Bert said still lost out of this world then asked a different question.
“You ever miss half a your tongue yet Clive-o?”
Clivey threw his hands up in the air,“Wha a your point Bert?”
“That’s how mi feel bout Marj.” Bert’s eyes were downcast.
“Like you missing couple teeth?”
Bert tilted his head in serious loneliness and said,
“Missing Marj is like missing your front and side teeth.”
He paused, sighed as if he was dying inside, sighed again then continued.
“I don’t want to smile anymore.”
His eyes dampened, face broad and sad.
“I know I have a beautiful smile but I just don’t want to smile anymore. Just like a man missing his front teeth and doesn’t feel like smiling anymore. That’s how I feel, like I don’t want to smile anymore. You get the comparison now?”
Tears were at the verge of falling from his eyes. Clivey got jealous because he wanted to cry like Bert too and the tears weren’t coming. Clivey turned his back and rubbed spit under his eyes to look like white tears.
“Look yah Bert mi a bawl white. A you mek mi a bawl enuh.”
Bert couldn’t hold it anymore if Clivey was bawling until his face white, he needed to just let go too. He let out all the pent up sadness with the next deep breath. Then barely mouthed, as if he was talking to himself not Clivey.
“I miss her. I really do. And it seems as if I’m hurting her.”
“Damn idiot, how you fi miss your wife? After you naaw get nuh…”
He winked over at Bert with a smile.
“Clivey you a naaw bother bawl wid mi?”
Clivey rubbed some more spit under his eyes, grabbed under his belly and the big man cried,
“Woooiiieeee . . .woooiiieee.”
Bert stood up and hauled up his tights above his navel and said,
“Mi ago prove seh mi love har, mi ago buy har one expensive ring.”
“Like when you did married har?”
“Yes! And mi still have the bankcard from when mi did thief it out fi buy your prescription.”
“Bert you married to her already, think about it properly. What would Jesus do?” Clivey asked. “Jesus would never marry her.”
“Don’t buy her the ring?”
“Mi nuh believe inna da marriage sup’n deh enuh.” Clivey said.
“Why?”
“Did you read in the bible that Jesus married his girlfriend?”
“ No.”
“Well I want to be like Jesus, except fi the weed part. Mi nuh think Jesus use to smoke weed hard.”
“Then nuh must!”
“When mi come back mi ago send har a romantic text so she come home quick so mi can propose to har tonight. A bay things later!”
Bert went on the road and left his phone.
CHAPTER 11
BERT BURN DOWN THE HOUSE?
“A woulda bun dung the whole a in yah then claim insurance.”
Marj slammed the car door. Their house wasn’t burnt down flat, as yet.
However there was a beautiful boxing ring with genuine fourteen karat gold trimmings on the lawn. A big red sign was in the middle the writing on the red sign was in white and all caps, it read, “ABSOLUTELY NO REFUND!” She barged through the door.
“Bert! Bert! Bertttt!”
A whatsapp alert chimed on her phone and she was too angry to answer it.
Bert had planned for a romantic evening. He had already showered and was only in a fluffy white robe with the waist-strap loosely tied to the left side of his shaved belly. The top of the robe was parted open though showing most of his chest and the robe was longer than him, sweeping the floor. He had a rose stem in his mouth, sprawled and waiting in the bed upstairs. He yelled,
“I’m up here baby. Come and get it. I’m glad you love my text.”
“Bert! Bert!”
“Come up Baby, I’m waiting for you.”
Marj’s voice swelled with anger.
“Come down this instance!”
Bert realised how angry she sounded plus demanding him to come down stairs, so that must meant that she wanted him to cook for her first.
Bert didn’t walk down the stairs like a normal guy. No way. Instead, when Bert reached the stairs, he climbed over the stairs’ railing and lapped it with his legs, his head pointing down towards the stair case as he slid sexily down the railing in his robe alone. He jumped off when he reached the end with the huge round wooden knob before his head collided in it and said,
“Marj you see that a while ago?”
Marj huffed and folded her hand across her chest, the anger wouldn’t let her even speak. Bert realized something wasn’t right, he asked,
“Marj why you a hide all a the matches inna the house? Lend mi the matches because mi out fi do something spectacular round a back.”
Marj just couldn’t calm down. A text came in on her phone, she read it, her face relaxed, then she looked back at Bert and was afire again.
“Do you think money grow on trees Bert?”
“Marj, please to stop spoiling my name, pronounce it with a capital ‘B’ put an emphasis on the ‘B’ roll your lips like suh.” He pushed up both lips and made a motor engine sound with his lips trembling ‘Bbbbrrr’ . . .You get it now? BBBBBert! Say it properly now.”
Steam was building in Marj, “Do you think money grow on trees?!”
“Duhhh Marj, obviously….” Bert replied, “Yes it does.”
“Bert I’m not in the mood for this bull crap. Money doesn’t grow on trees!”
“Mi seh, pronounce the ‘B’ inna mi name properly. Say it and mek your bottom lip tremble like when horse tired, BBBBert.”
Hot steam was lifting Marj’s lid. “Money does not grow on trees!”
“Paper make money right?” Bert asked.
“Yes. That’s not the point. What did you do with ….”
“Sssh” Bert interrupted her. “Hush nuh, just answer the question. Paper make money, right.”
“Yes!”
“What paper mek from?”
“Trees…but….”
“Ahh… There you go!”
Marj folded her fist, bit her lips and yelled, “Berttttt!!”
Bert carefully pulled the knot at the side of the robe and re-tied it tighter while calmly answering Marj. “Yes, Sugar-breadfruit.”
“Where is the money in our bank account?”
“As far as mi see it Marj, we live in a world where doctors destroy our health, lawyers destroy justice, school destroy knowledge, government destroy education, press destroy information, banks destroy the economy, and religion destroy morals. Can you see a better world coming soon? You know why Marj? All because of money. Don’t let it control you. Look how you dealing with your thick husband just because mi simply spend off every dollar inna we account. As a matter a fact mi ago work back the money.”
“Work how?! Where?! Doing what?! Who gonna hire you Bert? Who?! Who’s gonna hire a mad man?!”
Bert didn’t speak. He shut the robe close over his bare chest, he bowed his head down, he was more than embarrassed. His wife had never ate off his head like this before. Never used such harsh tone at him. Insinuated that he was a worthless madman without a job, with nothing to offer and causing her to lose everything around her. He felt teary-eyed.
“I wanted to prove I love you, so I bought you the dearest ring I could find.”
“I don’t want a ring, for heaven sakes whatever you did with the money, put it back! I’m sick and tired of your crap! Do you have any idea what you’re putting me through? Do you know what my life’s like? Do you know what it feels like to get a text from your husband that he has burnt down the house and you know for sure that you can go home to black ashes. Do you?”
Bert was silent.
“Do you know what it feels like to be cashing groceries for your husband and in front of the whole supermarket, you find out that, that said husband had used all the money, two point seven million, all our hard earned life savings, on WHAT?” She threw down her handbag out her hand, it bounced on the sofa’s cushion then fell on the floor “Huh?! To do WHAT?!”
“You nuh see your walk pass your ring pon the lawn? A your own dat enuh. Mi couldn’t wait fi you come home come see it, so mi tell you seh mi bun down the house flat, but a lie mi did a tell,” Bert said, “mi nuh ready fi light the gas cylinder yet. Mi only did seh so true mi want you reach home fast.”
Marj looked at him and the wrinkles straightened out her face. “See how mi smart? You nuh see how fast mi mek you reach yah?” Bert asked, “You lucky you come quick though enuh, a light mi did gone light the gas cylinder and mi couldn’t find the matches, you think you coulda out it in time if mi did get fi put mi hand pon the matches? You stay deh, you woulda blow till you weak you couldn’t put out that deh big fire deh mi woulda set the house pon. A woulda bun dung the whole a in yah then claim insurance.”
She threw her hand up and slapped her forehead harder than she intended to. She wanted to be angry, but when she looked in his eyes she breathed out some of the fire out her chest and shook her head. Her voice lowered,
“Bert, that’s a boxing ring Hun, I can’t wear that.”
She repeated her mantra, “For better or for worse Lord, for better or for worse.”
Softening up to his innocence, she thought about it, he only wanted to prove his love. He still cared and even though he was mad he was trying to prove he loved her.
She spoke patiently now,
“Honey, where on me must I wear the boxing ring. I can’t wear it. Come put it on my finger let me see.”
“So you nuh love the big ring pon the lawn?” Bert asked.
“You bought me a diamond ring already when we were getting married.”
She showed him the diamond ring that she had never removed from her finger.
“Piece a the diamond drop out Man Marj.”
“No Hun. That’s how you bought it.”
“What a diamond likkle? A suh mi did mean? It nuh look nice like the one pon the lawn, tek deh big pretty one deh.”
“Bert that’s a boxing ring, carry it back and get our money back. We need the money.”
“No!”
“Bert we need the money.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Why?”
“No refund. All sales are final, but I can get an exchange for a different colour. You never read the tag inna the middle?”
“Are you
a Moron? How can you use all of our life savings on a boxing ring? And you don’t even work to contribute to the house like a man or rather like a husband anymore.”
“I’m proposing to you Marj.”
Marj took a deep purifying breath, and tried to explain from scratch again patiently.
Bert went to bed planning a special menu for Marj’s breakfast early in the morning before she left for work. She’s going to love it! Bert thought.
CHAPTER 12
BERT PREPARED A BREAKFAST FOR HIS WIFE.
“Mi seh! If you have hook worm?”
An unusual thing has been happening at nights Bert realized. In his sleeps he would hear his wife’s iPhone getting whatsapp messages late in the nights, now when she woke from bed to pee she would check her messages before she went to the bathroom. Sometimes she would return them sometimes she would ignore them. But for the first time tonight Bert was curious about seeing which friend was texting her every night now and what were these texts about.
Marj texts seemed to have sent her to sleep in pleasant spirits and a smile. She dreamt some pleasant dreams that night and a nightmare that Bert committed suicide.
She woke up crying, even though she realized it was nothing but a dream. She checked her messages and went to pee for the fifth time that night.
In the morning the thought was completely off Bert’s mind. Bert made breakfast for Marj. Sugar bun, mayonnaise and curry powder.
He knew she was health conscious so when he added the egg, he didn’t want to make it oily. His solution was simple. He knew how to totally get rid of all the oil out of a fry egg. He just poured the raw egg all over the mayonnaise. Raw egg had no cooking oil in it. Wonderful. And brilliant.
He knew Marj would be hooked on it. Creativity was his thing. He had made up this healthy meal, like he creatively did with the fart tonic, all by himself. He deserved an award.
When Marj sighted the egg yolk dripping as much as she wanted to show that she appreciated him getting up early and making her a healthy breakfast, she just couldn’t find the stomach to eat it. She threw it in the garbage bin and said,
“Bert that sandwich’s too raw.” The smile disappeared off Bert’s face. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so she didn’t tell him that she couldn’t stomach the scent of the raw egg when she put the sandwich at her mouth, instead she said, “Well, not the egg so much, its more the sugar bun, I don’t like the sweetness baby. It wasn’t your fault.”
