GRINGA (58 page)

Read GRINGA Online

Authors: Eve Rabi

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Dramas & Plays, #Regional & Cultural, #Caribbean & Latin American, #United States, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Multicultural, #Two Hours or More (65-100 Pages), #Multicultural & Interracial

BOOK: GRINGA
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Just then, Tongue appears, completely naked and scratching his balls.

    
             
Austin
’s drunken eyes dart between her and Tongue. ‘What a hoe,’ he finally spits.

    
             
‘Don’t you
fucking
call me a hoe!’
Paris
screams.

             
‘Sorry, make that a
cheap
hoe,’
Austin
says.

             
Insults fly between them. 

    
             
I stand back helpless and utterly exhausted from trying to broker peace between these ingrates.    
             
‘Do something!’ Elaine hisses at me.

    
             
‘Elaine, there’s nothing more I can do.
You
take over.’

     
             
‘You can’t just walk away from this.

    
             
‘Elaine,
I’m
twenty one,
Paris
is twenty five,
Austin
is t
hirty
eight
and you are ...?’ I stop and raise my eyebrows at her. ‘Take the reins Elaine and fix it. But be a mother while
you’re doing it. They both need, I don’t know,
guidance
here.’

    
             
She mumbles
under her breath
and turns away from me.   

    
             
Thankfully,
we get
Austin
into a Jeep and Marcus drives him home. 

             
Paris
refuses to leave, saying she wants to check out Tongue’s party items.

             
Elaine is furious. “I will cut you out of my fucking will
!
This is
your
baby.’ She lifts Liam up for
Paris
to see, ‘Not mine. Who’s supposed to take care of
it
?’

    
             

It
?’ I hiss. ‘What’s wrong with you guys?”

    
             
‘You’re the G
ran,’
Paris
says
. ‘Make yourself useful.
Grandma
.’

    
             

I
am not taking care of your baby, you ungrateful bitch!’ Elaine yells. ‘It’s your responsibility!’

    
             
‘Give him to her,’
Paris
says, motioning to me. ‘She likes babies. She wishes he was hers. I read her diary.’

    
             
‘You what!’ I can’t believe she had time to read my diary. She was only in my room for a couple of hours yesterday and she was dead drunk. I really need to burn that diary.

    
             
‘Knock it off, you guys,’ I say, embarrassed by their behaviour. Christa, Santana and the others are
laughing at
mother and daughter. Tongue is entertaining everyone by making all sorts of obscene gestures behind
Paris
. Naked, at that. 

    
             
Elaine looks at Tongue and shakes her head in disgust. ‘Just how long do you plan to stay with that ... that Poltergeist?’  

    
             
Paris
’s eyes sweep slowly over
Tongue. ‘Mmm, he’s amazing in the sack,’ she says and shrugs.

    
             
Tongue beams and sticks out his tongue to show off his silver balls.

    
             
Paris
grins. ‘That metal ball is sooooo amazing.’

    
             
Tongue
beams and
bows slightly. ‘I tol
d
you it was made jus
t
for your pleasure.’

             
‘Disgusting!’ Elaine says. ‘What the hell do you see in that
troll
?’

    
             
Paris
is contemplative. ‘He lets me sit on his face.
Austin
never did that.
Austin
’s a lousy fuck.’ She looks at me. ‘Donchathink?’

   
             
I groan with embarrassment. ‘Hey, leave me out of this. And that’s too much information, man.’  

   
             
‘You’re such a cheap slut,’ Elaine spits. ‘I can’t believe you’d let him near you, let alone touch you. He’s
utterly
repulsive.’

    
             
Paris
shrugs, then smiles at Tongue, her eyes glazing. ‘It’s lust,’ she says. ‘Besides the silver ball, he has a huge ... ’

  
             
‘You shut up!’ Elaine screams. ‘You fucking slut! Don’t let me come
over
there cos I’ll beat the shit out of you, you fucking ... Cheap  ... fucking ... tramp!’

    
             
Paris
is undaunted by Elaine’s anger. In fact, she just makes faces at her mother, infuriating her even further.

             
I
wish to God I never have a daughter like
Paris
. She really is a floozy.

    
             
Paris
and Tongue kiss as they move into the room and shut the door on Elaine’s cursing. 

    
             
I’m
concerned about
Paris
in Tongue’s clutches. I know he can very rough, even brutal during sex. He often regales us with tales of rough sex at the dinner table. As for
Austin
, I’m
bothered about him too
. I
s he really gonna call it’s quits with his beauty queen? What about little Liam? Does anyone give a damn about this beautiful child?

             
Feeling overwhelmed, crowded and plagued by the past two day’s events, I long for solitude to gather my thoughts and put them in perspective. Wonder how my bedroom will look now that
Paris
stayed in it?

             
I drag myself to my room and balk. This can’t be the same room. It’s strewn with clothes, my clothes at that, soiled nappies, cigarette butts, empty vodka bottles and it smells of baby vomit. You’d think Guns and Roses
visited
.
Forget about them respecting any of my stuff.

    
             
‘Senorita?’

     
             
I turn around and look at Maria.

    
             
‘I wanna clean, but you mother say “
L
ater” so I don
’t
clean. But I clean
now
.’

    
             
I thank her, grab a towel and head for the rock pool where I spend the next couple of hours swimming laps to ease the tension within.

    
             
When I return, Diago is sulking. As if it’s my fault. That really irritates me as I have no control over my moronic family.

             
At dinner time, Diago sends for me. I sit down and barely eat.

     
             
He keep
s
throwing irritated glances my way, but I ignore him.

             
‘Wha
t
?  You can’
t
eat, cos you l
ove
sick now, eh? You in l
ove
with him, eh?’

    
             
‘Knock it off Diago,’ I say quietly.

     
             
‘“Knock it off?”’ He bangs his fists on the table. ‘I knock
you
off. You an
d
your stupid boyfrien
d
.’

    
             
‘Diago, shut the
fuck up!
’ I shout before I can stop myself. 

    
             
I know never to disrespect Diago in front of his men, yet I just did.

             
H
e lunges at me
and
grabs
a fist-full of
my hair
.

             
‘I will fargin kill you,’ he hisses into my face. ‘I
will
cut your throat. I will shoot you. I will strangle you with my b
are hands
. I will drown you
.

             
Ha! Fat chance of
him
drowning me.

   
             
They were empty threats, just Diago being Diago, but incensed with the day’s events and feeling pressurised, I snap
. Without thinking, I
grab my steak knife and
slash at him, slicing him in the chest.

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