The Heart of Revenge (15 page)

After what Qwan did lastnight, now this? How
much can I take? To live in a lifelong marriage with all this? All
of this? This is a huge exchange to save my brother’s life. Because
I was basically handing over my life to live in a lifetime of
frustration and disrespect as far as I could see. Look at this
trashy bitch. Who is she? But you know what, Qwan had handed me a
packet of power over him. Gave me the upper-hand in the situation.
I didn’t feel guilty any more. I stood straight.

I looked at Qwan with disgust in my eyes and
Qwan returned the stare. He looked more surprise than I was. He
asked me,

“Who is that dirty old ghetto whore?”

I looked down the aisle at her. I realised
she wasn’t pointing at Qwan. She was pointing at me. Me? My heart
plummeted, shot down into the pit of my belly. Who the hell was
she? I regained maximum strength in my legs. Rocketed out of the
church, heels cantering away. My ankle twisted. I collapsed under
the willow tree in its cool shadow. Got back up, quickly. Sprinted
even faster down the flank. I knew who she was. God damn! This was
one big dirty scandal and eruption. I fled the scene.

I looked behind me just in time to see Qwan
collapsing, head slamming on the floor, connecting at the exact
spot the ring fell. The willow tree made an even louder ‘wooeee!
.... WOOEE!’

Munchy snapped close-up pictures of Qwan
knocked out cold on the church floor, I heard Munchy cried out,

“WOOIIIEE!! A yahso nice! MIX-UPPP!!”

I didn’t look back. I kept running and the
uproar in the church got ten times louder as Pinky gnashed her
teeth an pelted like a gladiator at war towards the girl. Things
were spiralling out of control and Pinky wasn’t trying to cool it
down. Pinky was about to create the greatest mayhem ever to occur
inside a church; right now.

by: Pinky

I don’t ’fraid of no man. No gal.
Nowhere.

Mi short of breath take mi the instance mi
set mi eyes on the three color face gal that zooped through the
church’s door. She come through the door with some long dirty
badwords in her mouth and calling up Leelia name. Mi head get hot,
blood start boil, eye start fry. Mi don't know why Leelia run gone
from the hippopotamus, all mi know is that if she don't shut her
rass mouth, mi smashing in every single one of her thirty-two
Chiffon butter teeth. Mi heated and couldn’t control mi tongue, as
the concubine step through the door, mi start daub her up.

“Hey little stinking swarthy gal, what you
know ’bout mi sister?”

Everyone was shuffling away from her. Mi
charge towards her. Weave pass the crowd that clustered around
Qwan. They were fanning him, trying to revive him and Micheal
Douglas shouted,

“Somebody call the doctor!” then in a
snort-like grunt added “Huh, huh!” He was kneeling over his
unconscious son, sweat washing his shine head and running down his
bald face.

Little Loriel frighten till she throw her two
hands over her eyes when mi power-raged by her and down the aisle
to lick the sadamite gal in her face. Munchy take one picture
again, nobody love mix-up more than Munchy, not even Raga, not even
Biggy and things about to get real nasty in here today. Church or
no church.

“No Pinky!”

Aubrea exclaimed, charging behind me, but not
before mi tear off a piece of this sketel gal face. Mi kick off one
of my heels and the entire church had their eyes on me now, not
Qwan on the floor. I kicked off mi other heels, speeding up my
strides and dragging out my earrings. People stand-up out of their
seats and tipping over each other’s shoulders and head-tops to see
the clash of the Titanics. People start beg and desperate outbursts
of pleas scatter-scatter all ’bout in the crowd.

“No! Don’t bother with that!”

“No Pinky! Leave her!”

The loudest voice was Pastor Frog-face

“THIS IS A CHURCHHH!” clutching his Bible
tight, stomping one foot and raising one hand to the ceiling. That
didn't damp my flaming temper much less cool me down. No. A violent
belch of wind busted through the church and cla-clammed the huge
window shut. Two fierce clapping sound behind each other
‘CLA-CLACK! ... CLA-CLACK!’ and the rattling sound of the windows
followed after, ‘Tiltltlll’.

I couldn’t care less about any damn church,
for all I care, all the church do, is rob up people money, and from
the gal diss mi sister, mi going to kill it. Church can’t save her,
neither frog-face, him can go on shaking the Bible in the air all
him want. She dead.

I bent and grabbed up a green flowers pot in
my hand, charging to the gal and she like an idiot, charging full
speed at me, like the little imbecile don’t see mi with a big tough
flowers pot in mi hand for her face. After her head not hotter than
mine. Watch the two of us going to clash now, she not easing up and
mi definitely not easing up. She shouted out,

“The little dirty whoring gal just fuck with
mi man in the bathroom, mi see the pic...”

And before she could finish say anything
cantankerous about mi sister, mi give her one solid bloodclawt lick
with the flowers pot. Right in her face. The pot shelled out and
Munchy catch everything on camera, live and direct, like she
working with The Jamaican Star or TVJ.

Nathan was tearing towards us faster than a
jam-packed, speeding coaster bus on the Constant Spring bus route.
The little short coward tearing through the church door to rescue
his little slut. A few other people ran to help her too. The pot
split into pieces on contact with her face. Black dirt ran from the
pot, spilling and nastying up all of her face and ran down into her
heavy bosom. She drop on her back, ‘DOOP!’ and things start fly.
Her jeans skirt button, flew off and rolled on the floor. Her black
and burgundy wig took a flight off her head, flipped a couple
somersaults through the air and sprawled out beside another green
flowers pot in the aisle. On top of her head looked bad; it badly
wanted some sort out. Leelia would say it was a ‘horrendous
atrocity’, ’cause Lee obsess with doing everything neat. When her
wig flipped off, the tacky and tear-up tear-up top of a black
wig-cap was over her dry and frizzy cane-row hair. Some of the
cane-rows looked like them pull out half way because of how long
she had it in. Her face looked lifeless, it was just big and there
on the floor, fat and round like spare wheel for the tractors on
construction site, her neck was blacker than the rest of her body
and had about four fat folds on each side.

I jumped on top of her, sat in her high-rise
stomach. A small fart got loose, right in her stomach. What a time
for the ice cream to start work mi. It couldn’t come at a better
time. Poop on her yes. Mi hope the fart blind her. Her breathing
not visible. I thought she’d be puffing and breathing hard, but
there was no sign of her breathing. She looked unconscious, her
eyelids batting but not opening, like she wanted to open them but
like she was battling to find the energy to lift her eyelids. She
didn't have the strength. I heard a woman’s voice,

“Oh God no! No Pinky! Don't kill her!”

It sounded like my mother, Aubrea, but mi
never looked back. I grabbed the other flowers pot, raise it with
both hands high above my head. I heard fast pacing footsteps
charging from behind me. I didn’t look back to see who it was, but
I knew they were coming mighty fast and I knew they were heading
towards me to interrupt me smashing her face again, trying to save
her. Mi use all of my might and brute force and bashed the other
flowers pot again in her forehead. The pot splintered into pieces
and more black dirt buried her face. Her head twitched, her body
jerked, then stiffened, got lifeless. I rubbed the dirt in her
face. A trailer fart came out. Mi think everybody hear it. Loud and
clear. Makes no sense mi try cover it. If mi fart, mi fart, is
what? Everybody do it. Don’t? Ice cream working mi belly and mi
can’t control mi bottom. The farts slipping out as they like, as if
they have a mind of their own.

The second blow to her forehead bust open
above her eyebrow. It was wide and open and long. The blood gushing
from it soaked some of the dirt on her face and some ran down her
face to the floor. I reached for a next flowers pot, mi breath, mi
blowing short.

“No! She’s too wicked! Hold her!” I heard
from standing witnesses in the holy church. Confusion. Mayhem.
Chaos. DISGRACE.

Vance was the one running behind me. He had
ran back into the church and now he wanted to create peace, part
the fight and stop the pandemonium. I was a raging torpedo with
only one thing on my mind, mash-up this gal face, smash, grab,
squeeze. Mi just couldn’t cool down.

“Lord have Mercy!” Ms. Merl cried out as I
took the third flowers pot that was close by her feet. Her feet as
skinny as cat whiskers .The french- coffee coloured stocking fit
her fine legs loose with much room around them as if the stocking
was worn two hundred times more than it should be worn, stretched
out, and at her bony knee caps it fitted her even more swingingly.
I raised the green pot high above. Ms. Merl smacked her forehead
with her palm, her glasses tilted. She shut her eyes. Mi bite mi
lips with monstrous force, gathered all my strength in my arms and
swung mi hands down with all my might, right down into the E.T.
face.

But there was no pot.

Mi hands empty.

I swung my head back to see which idiot
wasn’t in their right mind to come snatch out mi weapon. Whoever it
was, mi going to sheg them up royally. Proper. Watch.

It was my brother. Vance. Cho man!

I spun my head back around, and all I knew
was that, I didn't see the person, or better yet I didn’t know who
it was. All I saw was the shine bottom of a brand-new,
made-in-China boot with the heel powerfully sailing directly into
my mouth. It looked like I saw a size eleven and a half or maybe it
was a thirteen on the boot bottom, it was coming so fast to my face
I was confused. I couldn’t even duck the kick. Mi did just have to
take it. Mi never know who it was but mi did sure he could kick
better than Beckham. I felt the heel rammed into my top lip and
some of the heel caught just below my nose too. And even if there
were ten JPS in Jamaica they couldn’t have enough energy to fuel
the light I saw flash right before my eyes; it was the brightest
light ever. I swore I felt some of my teeth shifted. Instantly I
started to fret about my smile. As white as my teeth were, my smile
wouldn’t look so lovely with two missing front teeth. Just picture
mi with the smile. I saw only the blackest blackness after the
bright light flashed. I dashed my two hands over my blinded eyes.
Vision slowly blurring back into them. I removed my hands and
squinted my eyes over and over to find out who it was. Who was it?
I saw. And him certainly dead.

I couldn’t believe it was the coward. Nathan.
What a short man foot big! Mi going to kill the short little
tokoo-tokoo fucker. He had no idea what he just did, he must have
seen a pretty little lot by Dovecot that he couldn’t wait to be
buried in. I sprang up off the bitch and Nathan gave mi the other
boot heel solid, kicking mi right under mi eye, nearly slipped out
mi jawbone like the great King Yellow-man.

It didn’t slow me down. Before I could bite
out his eye, fool-fool Vance that again, with his soft heart,
always helping people and sorrying for people, come and hold me
back again. It seemed like Vance working for a beating too or
something.

Mi buck Vance in his face. Then chuck it off
and almost break off his neck. The flowers pot was still in one of
Vance’s hand so he could barely manage mi. Mi rail up and wring up
miself out of his hand. Vance held his face with his hand that I
got out of and shouted,

“Pinky stop nuh!” That didn't mean a thing to
me.

“Pictureman! Mi going to wring your neck like
farm fowl!” and I meant every D.E.A.D. of what I said.

I flung a full-fledged fist at his right ears
corner. I had problems breathing, but I was either going hard or
going hard, so I chose going hard. I felt a big Goliath hand
snatched me by the wrist, lifted me off the ground, spun with me
and threw me away in the other direction, away from the pictureman.
Is who this now? Them want dead?

I couldn’t believe that such a thing was done
by him. Didn’t Daddy see the rawtid-hole kick mi get in my mouth?
Before him pop one of the pictureman foot, him come holding on on
people and throwing mi one side. He was limping over to me. I
stared at him huffing and puffing but somehow my breathing got
easier. I began to gather my head the closer Daddy came. The
coward, Nathan, got the chance he wanted and bolted out of the
church looking like a midget vampire running from sunlight. Daddy
looked into my eyes for a moment without saying a word. Then he
asked,

“What happen to you? The devil in you?
Saviour divine!” He shook his head with an expression that could
have been one of disgust. “You plan to mash up your sister wedding?
Eeh?”

“But you don't see that is them come here to
mash it up? Is me saving it.” Daddy’s eyes analysed me as if I had
done something wrong and I was the one to be blamed but I knew
different. I was the hero of the day. He should be thankful, well
at least Leelia.

“What mi should’ve do? ... Let them mash up
mi little sister wedding? You must be mad no blood—-“ I stifled the
last half of the badword, not for the sake of the church, but more
for the sake that I was talking to Daddy, in a church.

“So you happy now?” He pointed towards the
girl who was spread on the floor without looking at her, still
looking at me, “Look what you do to the poor girl on the floor.
Look there.”

“That’s what she must get! She too bright ...
And ups!”