Deisel, A Jamaican Love Story – Part 4

This fictional series contain the names of characters, places, events and a storyline that exists only in the author’s imagination.  Any resemblance to actual events, persons alive or not is a coincidence. 

This publication is intended for readers who are twenty one years of age or older and was created only for entertainment.

All Rights Reserved. Reproduction, duplication or copying of any part of this publication in any form or by whatever means is strictly prohibited unless consent is given by the author.

Individuals pictured are models and are used for illustrative purposes.

 

Episode 4

 

DEISEL

 

 

So, I had been home, recuperating.  Doctor Koltz had told me to take it easy and make sure I avoid any sort of stress if I was going to be fully well again.  He pleaded and insisted that I avoid anything or anyone who would cause me any sort of worry or anxiety.  This was going to be hard because I still loved Elan.  And, he’s the major source of my pain, not that head injury I’d gotten.  And, of course, doctor gave me some pills for the pains, which had been intermittent.   I threw them away.  Whatever pains I had been feeling no pills or medication could have helped.

“He said, I would be his wife,” I began saying in my mind after thinking about yesterday.    I honestly couldn’t remember what happened after falling in the middle of the road in Porus.  I saw the tires of this large bus rolling toward me and then… there was darkness…or maybe it was some kind of light that I saw.  It was as if I’d been to a lot of places.  I was confused. But, it was as if I had some sort of company.  I don’t know.  Maybe I was dreaming up all of this while I was unconscious.   Couldn’t have seen a face but maybe the hand looked like that of a woman’s.  Soft.  Maybe she needed to take me somewhere but I wasn’t going anywhere with anyone I didn’t know. So I resisted. And immediately afterward, I heard this familiar voice. It was hard to tell who’s voice it was but that was until I heard the words, ‘marry and have kids’.  When I heard that ‘marry’ word, I could have only thought about one person – and that was Elan.  So, I fought darkness liked I’ve never fought before just to make my eyes open up.  It was a struggle; I was so tired and weak but I eventually opened my eyes only to see Elan holding my fingers while I lie there in a hospital room. Now, I know this part of my experience the day before was real but as real as whatever was happening before I opened up my eyes.  I was confused.   I was so frail I couldn’t even have made eye water.   And there was this nurse and some other people in that hospital room looking at me as if I was some sort of an alien from space.   That was some… experience.  I guess I was hallucinating after that head injury.

At home, trying to recover, I tried not to think about all of this because the very thought would give my skin a thousand goosebumps.

Knock, knock.

I looked at the front door.  My head started hurting again and my heart throbbed.

Knock, knock.

I got up from off the couch and opened the door.

“Hi. Howdy.  You ok?”

I breathed some amount of relief, and disappointment too.

It was Marcy.  She was a pre-trained teacher at this basic school nearby.  She was a year or two older than me.  I knew she could have waited to come see my mom after school in the evening but she wanted to be faas (inquisitive).

“Not feeling too bad now.”

“Thank Mercy.  So happy you’ve pulled through such ordeal.”   She had freshly done braids.  I would have imagined her spending her entire wages to get that high-priced braid and clean-shaved eyebrows.

“Yah.”

“She opened up her bag.  “Oh, I’m here to see your mom.”

“Really now”, I said in the back of my head.

“I want her to sew this skirt for me.  It fits a bit too loose.”

“Well, she’s gone to get eggs from Brother Ken.  She’ll be back in ten minutes or less.”

She looked over my shoulders.  “Alright, I’ll just leave it with you.”   She handed me this red velvet skirt.

“Will do.”

She headed off and then she stopped.  “Oh, tell her to hem the tail so that it becomes shorter,” she grinned, in a silly sort of way.

I raised my brows.

“Well, there’s a new principal at school, a man.”

I opened an eye wider.

“And he drives a hot X2 bimmer.”

“Ok, then?” I grinned.

“Yes, my girl. I have to look about myself.”

“Go to work, Marcy. You’re so bad of a woman.”

“Stay there.  You have your man already.”

“Well, he’s leaving.”

I couldn’t believe I’d really said this to Marcy.  Now I was setting her off.  She closed the front door after coming back inside.

“Weh you say?  Ok, let me say it properly, what did you just say?”

“Nah, not important.”

“Of course, it is important, Deisel.  If a man is leaving, of course, it is important. What, you not giving it to him properly?”  Now she was beside me on the couch. She removed her heels.  “Look, you have to give it to him the right way.  So, you take a bath first, get some oils and the Masquerade mask over your face and get that whip…”

“Marcy, Marcy,” I hasted to say.  “Not that kind of leave.   He’s migrating.”

She looked me in the eyes.

“You mean, like going to foreign to live?”

“Yes.  He’s going to live with his mom overseas.”

She looked toward the ceiling and clapped her hands. “Girl, who needs him more, you or his momma?  His momma can give him all of foreign but she can’t give him what he really wants.  You think those sexy foreign girls won’t take him as he comes off that plane?  Foreign women love Jamaican men.  Yardie man blessed.  As a matter of fact, even before your pretty boyfriend leaves Jamaica, one of those hot air hostesses who has her own long ‘real’ brown hair will take care of him.  Stay deh.”

I started crying.  I hated everything.  I hated Elan.  I hated his mom.

“Hush.  Hush, Deisel,” she hugged.  Now she was shedding tears too. “You can’t allow a handsome boy like Elan to leave.  You have to make him stay.”

“But I can’t hold him back.  It’s for his progress.  I really love him but I can’t be hindering his progress.  I honestly wish there was something I could do to make Elan stay,” I sobbed.

 

CLAP! CLAP!

“Eh, Eh,” Marcy grinned after clapping her hands again.  She got up from off the couch and moved toward the door.  She stopped, turned around, hands akimbo, legs apart.  I looked at her manicured toes.   She looked over her shoulders, glancing at her behind.   “So, girl, you don’t know how to make a man can’t leave you?”

I sat there on the couch, arms folded. “Obviously not.”

“Ka, ka.  Weh you come from or let me say it properly, where are you from?”

“Jamaica.”

“Obviously not.  You must be Brit.”  She walked to the other corner of the hall.  “Or a New Yurker,” she jeered using a foreign accent- twang.

CLAP!  CLAP!

My eyes blinked at the sound of her loud clapping.

“Deisel, every woman from here knows about Red Peas Soup and making a man stay with her forever.  Your mommy didn’t tell you about this?  Well, obviously she didn’t.  She’s single.”

“Marcy.  I think it’s time you go to work.”

“Ok, then, but if you want to know the secret and the power of the Red Peas Soup then you’ll know where to find me.”  She headed through the front door after replacing her heels.  “I’ll be teaching,” she grinned while twanging.

I held my head and then I closed my eyes.

“Ok, Marcie. Marcie, don’t leave.”

She walked back inside, nose pointed to the ceiling.  “Can I heLLP you?”

“Stop showing off, lady.”

“What you want?”  Now she had her hand akimbo.

“So, how do I keep him?”

“If you don’t want to keep him, I could give him that Red Peas Soup for you.  As a matter of fact, I don’t think I’d need to…”  SLAP!!!

She smacked her behind so hard. “You think Elan would let all of this go?”

“Alright, alright, Marcy. Tell me how to do it, the Red Peas Soup, thingy.”

“Ok. So you…wait, let me close the door first.”  She headed toward the front door.

Huh!!!

My heart started pounding and my head started to hurt again.   Elan was standing there.  He wore this light-blue jeans and a white tee-shirt.  He had this large bouquet in his hand.

Marcy looked him over with some admiration, of course.

I loved him. I needed him.  I needed to keep him.

“Anyways, I’ve got a class to teach.”

“Bye, Marcie.”

“I could bring you some ‘soup’ when I’m finish working,” she jeered while heading off.  She made her behind dangle when she realized Elan was looking at her.

Brat.

“Hi, Honey.”

Elan and I stared each other in the eyes.

 

 

The End Of Episode Four.

 

Come back next week for more.

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