The Jamaican Ninja Bert!!

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The Jamaican Ninja Bert!! Page 8

by Richie Drenz


  “Mi know you woulda love the egg because mi nuh use nuh oil in deh. Tomorrow mi set up a bigger one fi you wid bread.”

  She didn’t want any tomorrow. Her tone changed, it got a bit harsher, “That’s the problem though Bert. You should’ve fried the eggs, maybe it would be nicer.”

  “Alright then Babes, you nuh affi a talk so to mi like a cuss you a cuss. Tek it out back outta the garbage pan mek mi fry the egg dem quick fi you wid mi yeye.”

  “For the last time Bert, stop saying you can fry egg with your eye! You can’t, ok!”

  Mi ago run go buy the bread and come back.

  As soon as Marj left out Bert went around to Ms. Karen shop to buy bread for Marj’s breakfast. He wanted to please her.

  He pointed, “Sell mi one a dem slice bread deh.”

  Ms. Karen handed Bert the bread through the small counter’s door and opened her hand for payment.

  Bert stretched his hand to hand her the money and stopped half way. Looked in her eyes suspicious and said, “But wait deh, how deh bread yah feel suh light?”

  “A suh dem a mek dem now.” Ms. Karen said, nobody else was in the shop but Ms. Karen didn’t have the time or patience to waste with Bert, she just wanted her money. Things had been slow these last days for her shop. Every sale counted.

  “No Man, it look like you tek out couple slices outta deh bread yah enuh Ms. Karen.”

  “Nothing nuh go so.”

  “Mek mi see…” Bert started to count, examining the bread, “one, two, three… three slice missing.”

  “Just pay mi, mi money and gwaan nuh. Nothing nuh wrong wid the bread.”

  “Then how the bread so loose inna di bag? Watch deh, several slice missing.”

  Ms. Karen scratched her oversize bottom with one finger. Bert frowned and asked,

  “You have hook worm?

  “Wha?”

  Bert toad out his big eyes exposingly.

  “Mi seh! If you have hook worm?”

  “No. Wha type a question that?”

  “Suh how you a dig-dig up you bottom suh? Then you want come serve people wid you touch-up bottom hand.” Bert was very peculiar about people touching food with unclean hands. It just annoyed him like crazy.

  He held up the bag in the air above his head and shook it. The bread slices started shaking all over inside the bag like some loose book leaf. Bert knew there was too much space in the bread bag. After it wasn’t potato chips he thought.

  “A so mi buy the bread from the bread van.”

  “Talk the truth Man, you tek out some slice don’t?”

  “No mi nuh pull di bread bag.”

  Bert paid her, she threw the money in her money pan and was closing the counter door. She was done with Bert.

  Bert held up the bag in the air again and shook it; the flimsy slices just wobbled all over inside the bag. He pushed the counter door open before she could close it and flung in the bread back at her. One fling. Hard.

  “Mi nuh want deh one deh. Pass one next one weh wid the whole a the slice dem inna it.”

  Ms. Karen get vex.

  “You really a cause bay problem this morning over three slice a bread? And a blame mi seh a mi tek dem out? Nothing nuh wrong with it enuh.”

  “Is your money buying?” Bert open up him eyes at her, “Pass one next bread, wid nuff slice in deh.”

  Ms. Karen shook her head exhausted of the back forth foolishness with Bert and went to the shelf, took up a new bread and gave it to him.

  “But hold on, a the whole a the bread dem you tek out couple slice outta?”

  “Mi seh a suh dem start come now, Bert.”

  “Gimmi back mi money please Ms. Karen.”

  “No, buy the bread.”

  “Watch yah. You can’t tell mi weh fi buy wid mi money. Gimmi back mi money before mi call police in yah. The breed a lie mi woulda tell pon you.”

  “Fi bread?”

  “Yes. Fi the bread weh you a thief out the slice dem.”

  Ms. Karen considered that business was slow.

  “Alright then, mek mi put three slice in deh out a da one yah then. Alright?”

  Bert thought about it and said,

  “Go wash your hand first.”

  “But watch yah, through you see mi scratch mi bottom? Hsst. The bread inna plastic bag enuh.”

  “Mi nuh business, if you touch it wid deh hand deh mi nuh want it.”

  Ms. Karen washed her hand and came back around, pulled the bread bag and put the three extra slices in Bert’s bag. Then she re-closed it well neat like it wasn’t opened before. Bert watched her craft attentively and asked,

  “How you lock back the bag so good? When done you a come talk ‘bout you naaw thief out di bread slice dem. You see how mi ketch you easy? You nuh have no brain?”

  “Mi seh mi never dweet.”

  Bert knew from the get go that the poor shopkeeper never was pulling the bread bags and taking out the slices. Bert collected the bread with the extra slices and admitted.

  “You see how the whole a uno a talk 'bout how mi mad? And look how mi trick you and get three extra slice a bread eeh. Mek you all pull one new bag and tek out three slice gi mi.”

  Ms. Karen never only felt like an idiot har brown colour start change to red. Bert asked,

  “A who a di fool now, eeh?”

  Blood full the shopkeeper’s eye same time. She ran to the shop door to come round to Bert and fix him business nicely. Bert throw di bread inna di scandal bag and push through one hand through one of the scandal bag handle and wear it on his back like a black knapsack or a cape and run leave Ms. Karen because his little feet swift and he bawled out.

  “You can tek back the three slice when mi come buy next time!”

  “Hey mad bwoy, don’t come back a mi place. That’s why your wife nuh stop gi you bun.”

  Tearing up the road with the scandal bag on his back Bert wondered about what Ms. Karen had said, he talked to himself, A wha Ms. Karen a talk ‘bout, after mi wife naaw gi mi bun.

  That night Marj had some back and forth Whatsapp messages for almost thirty minutes under the covers beside Bert. He remembered clearly what Ms. Karen had said. It was playing inside his head on repeat and every time her iPhone made an alert noise he wanted to grab the phone from her and read the text. Marj used her conscience and put the phone on silent and continued to Whatsapp, with her back turned to Bert.

  The next morning, Marj flew out her sleep when Bert yodeled on the top of his voice from in the kitchen.

  “Honey I’m making breakfast for youuuu-whooo.”

  Marj dropped her head back on the pillow with a smile on her face. Breakfast in bed she thought. She felt like a kid again. She actually heard herself chuckle lowly and her smile grew to a full spread. Her love for Bert was a butterfly in her heart.

  “What you making honey?”

  “I’m looking after ripe plantains for breakfast. Rich in Vitamin B6 and potassium, Baby. You know how I do?”

  “Thank God.” Marj uttered, “No egg sandwich,” she exhaled “phewww.”

  Bert peeled two ripe plantains and ate one uncooked like it was a ripe banana then carried the other one on a platter to Marj as her breakfast. He didn’t even cut it up. Just the long so-so ripe plantain peeled. Marj took it with a smile then asked,

  “Bert, then you couldn’t slice it up?”

  Bert went for the knife in the kitchen. Marj have never had her plantain like this before but she was seeing beyond the raw plantain. He actually got out of bed for her to make her breakfast in bed, that was a sign of care and that was good enough. Absolutely, nothing could spoil her day. She had hope for her husband getting back to his right mind.

  Bert was back and sliced up the plantain for her. She took a slice of the plantain and looked at Bert stealing a piece of her ripe plantain off her platter. She kissed him with the plantain in her mouth and said,

  “For better or for worse. I love you Bert.”

  CHAPTER 13

 
BERT FINALLY READ MARJ’S MESSAGES AND UPSET.

  “Marj, how comes man a text you seh him want…”

  Bert was worried about the texts Marj was getting at nights. Now Marj had to put the phone on silent every night before bed because of the many texts she continued to get at nights.

  Bert did an investigation in her phone while she was in the shower. He saw a simple text in Marj’s phone from a particular gentleman. The text said,

  ‘I won’t.’

  Born to be a genius, Bert used his high capacity brain at great lengths to decode what the text could have possibly meant.

  He surmised exactly what it meant, it meant,

  ‘I won’t ever leave you baby and I love you so much. I will give you twenty thousand dollar to do your hair.’

  To say the least, deciphering what the text meant made Bert start to fret like wow. It would be a huge concern to anyone serious about saving their marriage. How can she be getting texts like these when her hair was already done just last Sunday?

  Bert went to the storage room for a length of rope and tied it to the ceiling fan. He pulled the peaceful dining chair from under the table and placed it under the ceiling fan with the long length of rope hanging from it. He stood on dining chair and tied the other end of rope around his neck.

  He had problem kicking away the chair from under his foot. He called Marj.

  “Marj, Help!”

  Marj ran from out the shower, as she saw him with the length of rope around his neck her eyes and mouth went wide.

  “Oh Jesus Christ now!” She dropped the towel from around her, ran, water dripping off her body.

  “Bert how you end up like this?”

  Confidently and loud, Bert answered, “A me dweet.”

  She was climbing on the chair he was standing to release the rope from around his neck. Bert pushed her off the chair and she fell hard, a pain stabbed her again in her ankle that she had sprained before. She limped to stand up back on her aggravated ankle.

  “Lef’ the rope round mi neck!” Bert said.

  “What?!” Her eyes gouged out at him.

  “Lef’ the rope. Mi call you fi kick weh the chair fi mi.”

  “What?! What got in your head Bert?”

  “Just kick weh the chair nuh Man, mek mi heng myself and done.”

  She limped over to the chair once more and mounted the chair again.

  “No Bert, you won’t hang yourself.” She reached for the big knot Bert tied at the side of his neck with the rope. “Hang yourself for what?” She asked

  Bert shoved her off the chair again.

  “Lowe mi mek mi heng miself by miself then since you naaw help mi. If you come up yah one more time mi kick you down.”

  “Why you want to hang yourself Bert?”

  “You nuh want mi. Mi ago kill miself. Then go murder Dr. Arnold.”

  “I do. I do want you Bert. Why you think I would be putting up with all this you’re putting me through if I didn’t want you?” Her face winced and she let out “Godddd!” and grabbed her ankle. Rubbed on it.

  Bert puffed up his face and casted both his eyes sideways looking down at her with a stiff neck for a couple seconds, absorbing what she had said, none of them speaking. Silence passed with them staring at each other. Marj praying he’ll take the rope off. He reluctantly began removing the thick rope from around his neck and sat on the chair. He was about to get down to the bottom of this before he hung himself.

  “Marj, how comes man a text you seh him want pay fi you do your hair?”

  “What text?”

  “You hear how you a gone innocent bout what text? You get ketch.”

  “Get ketch with what Bert?”

  “Mi seh, how long you a text man and a gi mi bun now? You deaf?”

  “Huh?”

  “Inna your iPhone like the one weh mi have, but mine inna one silver case.”

  “I don’t have any text from any man in my phone. And you own a Nokia 3310, stop saying you own an iPhone.”

  Bert snatched up her iPhone and found back the exact text. He knew his way around an iPhone very well, he practiced on his Nokia 3310.

  “Then a who this?”

  “Ohh, that . . .“ Her voice and action slowed down, “No, no. It’s nobody. And that’s not what it meant though. I wasn’t talking about doing my hair with him.”

  “Marj, did you . . .or did you not . . .receive this text from this man? No?”

  “Yes….but…” Her face looked as if she was trapped in her conscience.

  “Did you or did you not say you didn’t receive any text from any man just a while ago?”

  “Yes…but…. That’s not what ….”

  “Shhh… Hush it… Answer the lawyer question Marj. Now did you or did you not get a text from a man?”

  “Not… like…”

  Bert raised his voice and opened his eyes at her.

  “Did you or did you not?”

  “Well I didn’t! . . .”

  Bert stamped his feet and raised his voice louder.

  “Did you or did you not lie? Yes or no?”

  “No!!!”

  “You is a wicked gal. Why you a gi mi bun and you know mi a try get thick fi you?”

  “I would never cheat on you Bert. No matter what, for better or for worse.”

  “You hear how you lie fi young liad.” Bert said, “A who di man?”

  “It’s Doctor . . .Doctor …” She paused a brief second then rolled off her tongue “Dr. Ramahjan.”

  “Dr. Ram a wha?”

  “Dr. Ramahjan. He’s Indian.”

  “Then mi couldn’t just cream out mi hair, so when mi get you pregnant you have one Indian daughter? Since a pretty hair baby you want.”

  “No Bert, no. All I want is you. All I ever wanted was you.”

  She grabbed him,

  “You’re so cute when you’re jealous.”

  Bert was looking at the real name of the sender, Dr. Arnold.

  Why was she lying? Bert ‘s heart saddened, it struggled to beat in his chest. He was losing Marj even with all his effort of getting thick. He wanted to murder Dr. Arnold so bad now.

  He bowed his head and said,

  “I don’t want to lose you Marj. You’re all I have . . .” His gaze dropped to the floor. “I wish one day we would have a beautiful Indian daughter together, one day. Please don’t cheat.”

  Marj ran four of her fingers through the side of her hair and pinned her long hair behind her ears, she was looking the other direction, at the mahogany and glass cupboards, away from Bert.

  “Look at me Marj.” Bert said. She spun her head to his direction, looked at his forehead, then his shoulders, his lips then slowly connected her gaze with his, she swallowed, her eyes shaky and shifting,

  “Yes Bert, What is it?”

  “Would you carry my Indian daughter?”

  She was silent. She couldn’t hold her gaze if she was to say something, she tore her stare away from his eyes.

  “Would you?” Bert insisted, hoping that she would connect back with his eyes. She didn’t, she stuttered,

  “I don’t . . .I don’t …” A deep sadness rinsed over Bert’s face then swallowed him whole, his whole heart and soul plunged deep into shame, he didn’t want to hear anymore.

  He held his hand in the air stopping her, “That’s enough Marj.” He walked away.

  Marj scuttled off behind him, grabbed his hand.

  “No, No Bert. I would. I would. I would carry your daughter.”

  Bert stopped walking, turned around and spoke softly,

  “You don’t have to lie. Lying won’t make me happy.”

  Her bright honey brown eyes glared into his, glared beyond his eyes, into his cold sad empty soul. Then her eyes shifted from staring in his right eye to his left, then swiftly from his left eye to his right, she bit her cherry bottom lips, stopped her breath to say something.

  Nothing came. He looked down at her hand holding on to his. She slowly let go o
f his hand.

  They both stared deep into each other’s eye.

  Emotionally, Bert had never felt a deeper stab.

  CHAPTER 14

  HOW CAN AN ALARM CLOCK WALK?

  “Or mi can buy you one pet. One a dem pet crab deh or sup’n. Sup’n exciting. Sup’n weh can bite or crawb up people.”

  Bert went to bed upset. He didn’t want to get out of bed early. He was losing his wife to someone who was thicker than him, rode a bike, had a job and had money in his account. As Bert lay down in the bed and he compared himself, out of shape, no job, can’t drive his Benz in the state of mind he’s in, his actions embarrassed Marj at the grocery shop, maybe he was a part of the cause her family had now distanced her, he almost gave her a heart attack when he gave her the romantic text that he had burned down the house flat and worse of all he had caused her to lose all the life savings they had. How was he ever to compete with Mr. Muscles, Dr. Arnold? The good looking man she worked out with at the gym, and suggested to be Bert’s psychiatrist. Bert had tried to get thick like him and the sponge wouldn’t stay one place. Dr. Arnold was better off chopped. Murdered.

  The more Bert thought about his wife the more determined he felt about keeping her. He knew it was his responsibility to get back the money he had lost, prove to his wife that he’s not only causing her to lose everything around her. He would get back the money somehow, anyhow and that was a solemn vow he made to himself inwardly, because even though he’s losing several battles, well all the battles so far with Dr. Arnold, he’ll not lose the war for Marj. Bert was now determined to pull out all the stops to keep his wife, go hard or get divorced.

  Bert heard a ‘Rapa-pam-pam’ knocking on his front door. He didn’t want to get out of bed. But then again it could be something important so he went to the door with his sleepy face. He opened the door and saw Clivey’s copper-coloured face bright and sunny and smiling. Bert still a bit unsettled that he was losing his wife was not in the best of moods. He asked Clivey,

  “You a alarm clock?”

  “No.” Clivey answered his smile now gone.

  “You ever see a alarm wid two legs a walk round yet?”

  “No.”

  “So why you always a come a mi yard come wake mi a early morning fa if you a nuh alarm clock?” In the middle of the questions Bert’s pants waist felt a little slack, he hauled up the loose tights-waist a bit and continued, “You a early morning pee-pee then? Weh love pressure people bladder and wake dem outta dem bed before dem feel like fi get up?”

 

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