Sheamus’ Story, Continuing with Chapter 6, Part 2

Sheamus’ Story, told from a Carib-Jamericanadian perspective. In richly blended language mix of; nonsense talk, sensational spelling, double entendre, and Jamaican Patois. Yes, wordplay is the order of the day around here. Yeah — man, a Jamaica yaad mi come fram, sorry, I meant to say; I’m Jamaican born and bred, okay? So, here’s today’s excerpt.

The funk of last night’s leftover mugging like stale muffin, was in those times, still sitting heavily on something best left behind. Like, on his bleeding breath of the dome thing, not mine. Or off, off the dumpling he’d fished out of the dustbin of abject poverty where he was, yes. That was the familiar companion on the ship, filled with bugs. For him and his entire family, plan it well — mi tug.

So, in bed that night, he searched for delight. What he found was to come face to face with him, in fright, in his dreams too, he was looking down on his longing eyes as they shone upon you. “Good night,” he said and went off to sleep on his side of the bed. Woke up the following morning still yawning and found nothing but you and her lying upon him, I mean, hem.

Upon the hem of his nightgown garment, and faking the waking past the dew again, down the bottom arm ends. “If even when there should come the end ‘ding’ in the evening,” he said. That will be something worth a haughty Amen “Ding-ding,” comes the chime in, again. Yeah man, but. Let’s eat this, then continue on along my free man’s square? All week long and lick my sweet tooth up against the rest of my teeth, like, right here. Like, even while I’m lying down on my bed and sucking my thumb.”

“Yuck, you mean…”

“Yes, that’s it, that was what I meant to say — Sis. I’ve always done it like this. Yes — my dear, hurray, now that you’ve gotten to know it, go away, just as you’d longed to hear me say.”

“So that was when the decision was made to play rough and tough with the man dem. I mean, men, with those men.”

“Yes, those same old folks were at it again. Throwing muck at them, and at us too, of course. You know them, those might e-men from the low her end, I’m sure that you know them, yes?”

“Yes, I know them, I guess.”

“Okay then, so, ‘I guess that’ you should also know that, once they get started on the war skid path out, they don’t bother to go slow to the stop shout — yes.”

“Yes.”

So, that was when the command came down from the top man’s hand, and fell down to the brainiest companions of ours, looking on. When they’re not out looking for Pum-pum yam to fall pan dem plate feh dem feh nyam, the food was falling like gawling on their plates for them to eat you know. But it came to pass that when it came at the last act, it got them stayed closed in and shut down to Rastafar-I. Say this word loud and getting louder, guys, yes, or was it up? I can’t seem to remember a lot these days — my guy, but.

Such was to remain on them, all day long, amen. Into the nighttime too. On what was said at the time to be their own piece of the clay to walk their shoes. Or more like, to make potted brews and red peas soup, as some were beginning to notice this truth. That, as it was to have turned out, was to be the same kind of tough luck cup of red peas and scrap meat soup that I was talking about. As given to the youths to burn out the gas, on the rough rock bough.

“But, but why?”

Her concerned eyes upset the wise old guys,’ when she started out saying this.

“It’s, it’s, it’s…”

“Yeah, I know, hits after amazingly great hits, no?”

“No, not that but, it’s because,” she said this when she’d managed to digest the task out of its ask and reply. “Because.” Go-getters were (by then,) going in better and full-fledged to go in and gutt her by nine or ten. To come over and see her at the line-in, to go line dancing with them, and yes, us too, yes. All of us, he said, to those over there by the sheds where Ned was hiding out under the bed, with you. But the parson edge of a pastor never looked under the bed, that’s why he didn’t see brother Ned, in truth, but.

That was how he was to have heard about it and passed it along to the rest of his crew in the knit outfit. This is their last-ditch effort at the final attack on our bread, and butter. But as for her, as for him and her. They were more than half sure of what they, the king’s ton of tugs, wanted. Wanted to kill off the whole pack of willed off not e-dreads to rawtid you know and gut our oats.

“But, but, why?”

“It’s, it’s because,” he said, when he’d managed it enough to man up in age and digest the wait e nests out of it and asked her why, again.

“Why do you want to know these things, though?”

“Because…”

“Oh, well then, I’ll tell you. They were trying I’d supposed,” he continued with it after wiping his nose, again, …they were trying to get out of it and to man up on the proper responses. “Somehow,” he said, in the answer, ring sledge back at her and them fast and full-fledged.

“Somehow, we’ve allowed others to act and abuse the ax, (or nots.) In order to convince ourselves that we’re not, like…”

“Like what, overly self-conscious?”

“Yes, and far too relaxed. But they could not seem to see that we didn’t need such a thing as that. Same as how they did not notice the facts, like, when they’d convinced all the rest, well, everyone else but us, isn’t that as it is, and was?”

“Yes, yes, I guess.”

But we are, just as said, and somehow, maybe it’s because of such things as that, that’s probably why they couldn’t see, but.

“Yes, yes, I guess.”

“You’ll probably need to go and address that many guesses at your business address — Sis and respond in kind with your response to your odd ads’ that is at rest resting there on your newly arrived guests list, next, because…” Well, perhaps it’s just me by now, I digress. I’m probably the only one left wearing a self-made odd dress on me, even as it seems to appear to some folks over there by the way I wear these dresses around my waist Ted knee, here. Yes, I’m talking about me and not you — missis Adhere.

“Oh, yes sir, what is it?” came the response from the good lady who would have heard and wanted to contest and go lodge a complaint next door.

“Never mind — my dear lady, I spoke out of line.”

“Yes, you did,” she confesses to this, then turned away, and left.

Well, perhaps not, but who’s going to make her any wiser about those facts, of yours? I don’t think so. Not me though. No, I won’t go back and ask her for such things as these, and those, such things l can do well with oats, but. Obviously, they’d convinced you and the rest of them too, all of the average Joe-ish partying few, that they are still in control of all of their screws. Those that are sitting over there on the electric boogie chair, and who continually look down on us and the rest of them as if they knew the news, and then go off pretending to care, for these fools. Sorry, I meant to say; foods.

They’d convinced them that they need dead their forms of cure ring seeded aids since they were the best there ever were, as agents on the page. Whilst pouring paperman’s pens in them, on amens. Inking it in books at the moment. Then send them out to pass it along to the rest of their sisters and brother man, as agents of the govern meant to save.

“It’s in order to rebound us from the plague uproar,” they said.

“Well, I’m sure, yes, it is, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Oh man, poor us, again, but, but.”

Whatever happened to our son?” this bigger ask was coming from behind him near the talking parts of the woman.

“I don’t know,” he said, “I myself, am beginning to wonder about that one. I can’t say for sure about any of these things nowadays, but, c’mon. Let’s run along.”

Such freedom from the plague that came from them in the first place of the ten pits, was just the beginning of the practice. If you didn’t know these things, might as well quit. One way or another, it was traced back to the same brother.

“But what for?” Again, I ask Har, I mean, her. Yes, he’d asked her, not mean. “Where are they now, those cured folks from the outside of these closed-up doors,” stop, listen, did you hear that?

“No?”

“Well, I suppose that… No, never mind. Enough of those, they’re of less importance to me than twigs of rose.”

“I suppose so.”

“Yes. But they can try as hard as they may. They’re not going to drug me away, nor shake me trembling out of my clothing today, no. Not on any other daily show starts her upper kitty cat either. But I’ll tell you where they are as a teaser,” bar, sweet eh? Yeah man, like a sham, those cured-as-cargo folks, are already gone or coaxed. Gone to the graveyard I’m sure, every last one of them and more. “But of course, what else did you expect?”

“Okay, what can I say? Why, though?” He continued to try to know.

“Why would I bother to want that — my guy, Should I even do that spy?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Neither do I, not when I’ve got everything that I need right here on my free man’s square wheat bread.”

“And it’s sweet, right?”

“Yeah man, sweet like a sham, and a lot of such things too, to nyam, so that we can go and get it ready to eat while going along. Want a piece? I’ve got it on low heat. Seasoned and ready to roast a pum-pum yam to go with the duckling stew I’m on with meat and wanting to nyam. Even with the wheat in my cod fish teeth to go and get dinner for the children’s pickney dem as the beginners, and me, no?”

“No,”

To be continued.

That’s it for this excerpt of chapter 6. Be sure to join us again tomorrow to continue with the story. Don’t forget to like, share, and comment. We sure would appreciate it if you’d subscribe and follow us somewhere too, thank you.

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Just an excerpt from my book called “Twisted Tales from the Big Fail.” A Novel: Real Inky Trails Series.

By writingelk, All Rights Reserved.