Chapter 47 Daze
Daze
“Chubble foot feet!” Pops exclaims, eyeing the paintball gun, and everybody bursts out laughing. It’s Thursday and we’re at DaCosta Farm. It had been closed for a while because of Corona, but we pulled a few strings and got the owner to open it just for us.
We didn’t force him, but let’s be real, there’s no way he could say no.
How could he? It’s Pops and the Don. We change into paintball armor and get straight into the game. It starts off smooth, then quickly turns intense.
We’re split into two teams, my squad wears blue, Pops’s in red. Both teams made up of Outlaws and Unruly campers.
I drop by a tire and crawl on my stomach before flipping over, resting my back against the stacked tires, stretching my legs out on the grass. When I’m sure it’s clear, I start eating my shrimp.
Rick crawls over laughing, leaning beside me on the tires.
“Cyaa believe eh man a stuff him mouth inna the middle a the war.”
“Try know,” I reply, chewing.
“Food fi nyam still. A wah fi tap eat?” he says and I nod, tossing a shrimp in my mouth. He starts firing again while I chew, enjoying the breeze.
I cough, pepper nearly kill me. I reach for the water but Rick grabs the shrimp bag and throws three in his mouth at once.
“Yuh craven enuh, dawg.” I shake my head, sip some water, then cork the bottle and set it down.
I load more paintballs into my gun as Rick peeps out.
“Man dem wild,” he mutters, rolling up his jeans. I spot the swelling he’s rubbing on his bleached skin. He hisses, scowling.
“Watch mi and the bwoy Alex.”
I laugh low, but I hear footsteps approaching.
“A weh eh Don hide? How mi nah see the man?” Gutta’s voice rings out, laughing. He’s wearing red, enemy team.
…for now.
I tighten my grip on the gun. I position myself, listening as their steps draw closer. Rick signals me before he rolls out, opening fire. They scatter and I stand, aiming for Gutta while Rick chases Alex.
Gutta manages to duck out, but I still get a few good hits.
Mostly headshots.
“Weh dem gone hide?” Scar asks, joining me. He’s on my side.
“Behind the tire,” I answer, spotting red and firing. I know it’s Pops when he starts laughing. He fires back and I shift. Scar runs to another tire and starts returning fire.
I lean on an old bus, watching. A paintball hits me and I curse. Before I can even look, another one slaps me.
I’m cornered.
Gutta and one of the Unruly campers got me.
“This unuh a do?” I laugh, pulling the trigger as I move back. Realizing I can’t take them both, I grab the bus window frame and haul myself through it.
Yuh skill eeh?
“Dawg!” they’re impressed.
I crouch, smirking. I got the high ground now, perfect angle.
“Next side!” Gutta shouts. Blap! I shoot him.
They scramble for cover.
“Unuh betta!” I jeer. We keep playing. I spot Rick lighting up Gutta, who trips and falls. I jump down from the bus and walk over.
“Gutta, last words?” Rick smirks, his hands out like a movie villain. Gutta fans him off and hisses.
“Move with that,” and we all laugh.
Rick pulls him up and I look away, still firing at every red shirt in sight. By the time we’re done, it’s nearly 4 PM, we’d gotten there at 1.
I down another water bottle and finally take off my paintball vest and mask. Everybody’s eating lobster, except Gutta, who’s digging into mussels. I’m the last to take off my vest because I was on the phone with British.
“This bad enuh!” Scar says with a grin. The group chuckles.
“Mek me try that,” Milo says, stretching for a mussel. Gutta hands him one. Milo’s with Unruly. Gutta dives into his lobster, shaking his head in delight.
“Bredda…” he goes silent.
We laugh.
“Food mek yuh dumb,” I say, peeling off my gloves.
Laughter again.
“A me wife deal with it enuh,” Nathan says. He works here.
“Yuh wifey can cook, man. Mi woulda wah she cook fi me,” Scar grins, nearly done eating.
“Yea man, prepare fi pay wul heap a money if yuh wah she cook fi you,” Nathan jokes.
“That is it!” Pops laughs, and the others follow. He’s eating lobster too.
“If yuh wah good, yuh affi spend money though. Yuh cya mean,” a voice chimes in behind me. I turn and see a woman, with dark-skinned, long burgundy hair, dressed in black.
I glance away, placing my paintball gun with the others.
“A wah happen?” she asks, but I ignore her.
“A eh Killy yuh wah?” Pops teases her, laughing.
“Noooo, a tru him just a look,” she replies, and Pops calls out to me. I turn to see everyone watching.
“See the gyal a try talk to yuh,” he says, laughing. I look at her.
“Weh yaw seh?” I ask.
“Mi did a wonder why yuh a look pan me so,” she says. The crew chuckles. They can tell she’s reaching, just to talk to me.
She wah yuh…
“Look pan yuh how?” I raise my brow.
“You just did a look pan me too hard,” she says, eyeing me top to bottom.
“Eeeh, mi cya look again?” I smirk. She smiles. They all pretend to focus on the food now. Who dem a fool? She leans on the board, still looking up at me.
“Mi neva seh yuh cyaa look. Mi just wah know if yuh like wah yuh see, mek yuh look pan me so hard.”
Hear ya.
I shake my head. They chuckle again but go back to talking about the food. I laugh under my breath.
“None a that man,” I say simply. Her face drops.
Hush.
When I finish talking to her, I start eating, joining the conversation now and then. As soon as I’m done, my phone lights up. It’s a Facetime from Zara.
Mhmm, see who yuh wah hear from deh.
I smile.
I toss the food box in the bin and answer.
“Mami,” I say. She’s at the hairdresser, posing in the camera while someone holds the phone, showing off her hairstyle.
“Hey babe, you like my braids?” she asks, and I smile, nodding. Of course I love her braids. Box braids, reaching her ass with curls. I love everything she wears. I love her. In my eyes, everything about her is perfect.
“See him a smile, him must love it then,” the hairdresser giggles.
I chuckle.
“It look good man, mi love it,” I say, and Zara swings the braids to the side. She’s feeling herself. Must be her favorite, she never act so about the other styles she tried.
“Thanks babe,” she says, and I sit back in the chair, admiring her face. Jah…
“Wah yuh deh pan now?” I ask as she walks over to a quiet area, phone in her hand. She sits before answering.
“Mi just do mi hair, mi a plan fi—” is the last thing I catch before I drift.
I just start admiring her fully. Creepy maybe, how I zone out just looking at her features.
Her eyes.
Her nose.
Her lips.
Her teeth.
Jah Jah… the man gone…
Whipped fi days.
One time that used to be my biggest fear. Now? Mi embrace it. Her mouth stops moving and I just nod like I was listening.
“Ah… mi a link yuh up at home cause mi have a few errands fi run right now.”
“Mi a go home now, you a go fi the babies?” she asks.
I nod.
“Yah man, me will go fi dem.”
She gets up, saying goodbye to the people in the shop.
“Mami,” I say. She looks down but she’s still walking.
“Yes Nickoi,” she answers softly.
“Mi wah yuh drive safe. Mi nuh wah you a speed and make sure yuh wearing yuh seatbelt,” I tell her. I don’t care if I sound overprotective. I love her. If mi can’t be there to guard her, mi at least affi try protect her from far.
“Awww, I will babe. Mi wah you do the same,” she replies.
As for me… I can’t promise that. I know it sound unfair, like I want her fi listen to me and mi nah listen to her but it hard fi not drive fast. That’s how I been driving from jump. Still… I buckle up. This part mi can promise.
“Okay,” she smiles, glancing up and I hear a man call out.
“Thickaz.”
Which idiot that?
I frown.
“Thickaz, how yuh nice so?” the voice calls again, and Zara hisses, walking to her car.
“Who that?” I ask.
“Bingy, he’s a taxi man,” she says, getting in.
“Oh,” I reply, brushing it off.
“Mi soon link yuh at home.”
“Yeah. I love you,” she says, putting the phone down.
“Love you more,” I say, hanging up.
Everybody had split up, and I was now in Kingston.
I stopped at Bridget and picked up two new pairs of sandals for Zara.
I know she already has clothes, she’s always getting packages from the shipping company every other day.
But mi notice she been eyeing the new Bridgets online and mi know her size, so mi just grab them, I couldn’t resist getting one for my daughter too.
It’s super tiny. But mi want har fi match her mother.
When I’m in treez, I grab a fresh pair of baby Clarks fi mi son. Twinnem affi match man too.
After that, I head out to Spanish Town to collect the babies from mamz. I hail a few of the men leaned up outside when I step out of the car.
“Up mi killa,” a couple of them say as I pull the gate open. The yard quiet. Janel probably at school. Jordane living with his girl now, so I don’t expect him here.
Weh Mommy deh though?
I call her a couple times.
“Mommy,” I say again, stepping inside. No answer. One thing I know, when mamz at home, the house loud. She don’t know how fi stay quiet. She can chat like she a Rick. I check the back room where the babies usually are.
Nobody.
I hiss, take out my phone, and call her. I hear the ringtone. It’s coming from her room. So she deh home then?
“Mommy,” I call again, heading to her door.
It’s locked.
.
She never lock this door. Never. I start getting suspicious.
Mi deeven hear har a snore.
…and she snore loud.
The front door open. Her phone deh yer. Door locked. And she nah answer?
Sup’m wrong. Then I hear a shuffle inside the room.
So she definitely in there.
But… why she nah answer?
Why the door lock?
Why she quiet?
Wah she a hide?
“Mommy!” I shout, louder this time.
No answer.
My hand move straight to my waist. I pull my gun. She inside and not answering? I’m not standing out here like a fool.
I need to know if somebody hurt her.
Mi deeven know if she a dead…
…or if she dead.
Mi nuh know wah fi think
So mi do what mi have to do.
I raise the gun and shoot the knob. The door flings open, my brows pull together, and my whole body stills. What I see behind this door, is something I never saw coming in my whole life.