A Brief History of Seven Killings (31 page)

BOOK: A Brief History of Seven Killings
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One block away from his gate and the streetlights are all on and traffic is moving smooth, not too fast, not too slow. Two white cars shot it past the intersecting and race down. The first turns into his gate so fast that I can hear the screech. The second swerve in as well. My feet stop running and start to walk. I hope these aren’t people taking him away from the only chance I’ve got. There’s just this, I’m doing this because that is all I can do now and there is nothing else—this will work, it don’t have to make no sense. Not even Christmas yet, barely December, and somebody is already bursting firecrackers. I run and run and run again, then hop, then walk right up to just ten or so feet from the gate.

Demus

T
his is how bad man
wake up. Shaking first, hungry second, scratching and itching third, with you cocky burning to explode. This is what you do: shake off the shake with a head nod, scratch the itch till your black skin turn red and go off into the darkest corner of the shack and pull down you zipper. Others say to you, What the bombocloth you ah do boy? but you don’t listen because right now, to let go that piss is the sweetest thing. But the shaking continue and won’t leave until Weeper come back. In the morning the shack seem bigger, even with six man in it trying to sleep the bad man sleep.

This is how bad man wake up: never go to sleep. I wasn’t sleeping when Funky Chicken with the heroin shakes start to walk in him sleep saying Leviticus, Leviticus, Leviticus, over and over. Me never did sleep neither when Heckle run over to the window and try to push himself out. Bam-Bam sleeping but he sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall and the whole night he didn’t move. Me dream awake, about the brethren who leave me poor on Caymanas racetrack. Me make the heat rise up in me like a fever then take it back down and make it rise again. You can do that the whole night. Last night Josey take me aside for a second and say the pussyhole come back from Ethiopia two night ago. This is how you can make a thing you lust for keep you awake.

This is how you know most man in the room too young. Not an hour after they fall asleep they start moaning and mumbling and if you is the fat man from Jungle, you call out a woman name three time. Dorcas or Dora, me can’t remember. Only young man get wet dream. Heckle in the corner sinning with him hand down him pants. Only young man can sleep even
with all the burden crushing down on two shoulder like God just get tired of carrying burden and throw it on you.

I didn’t sleep. I not even sleepy. Flies in the room even at night. Nobody have no watch for me to tell the time, but in what feel like deep night, the skinny man from Jungle try to push him way out the door. Nobody wake up, but me wasn’t asleep. I hear him saying what kind of fuckery this for them to lock up big man like him in pigsty and I want to say you better relax yourself because Josey Wales is man who love to discipline a boy, but I stay in my corner, lying flat on my back, closing my eyes every time somebody look over this way at me.

But that was hours ago, me think. Now everybody in room going mad and ting. Bam-Bam scream out over and over. Me sight the two man from Jungle pace and pace and every time they run into each other they break out into a fight. Heckle searching every corner, every crevice, every empty juice box and soft drink bottle, the top of the house and the bottom for some cocaine. I know that be what he looking for, even though the last time a man do that, he take industrial-strength rat poison. Funky Chicken can’t take it no more so he go off into the corner where we piss and sit down in it and scratch him chest through the shirt with a
tch tch tch
. Bullshit this, you hear me, Heckle say. Yow who going help me push down this bloodcloth door? Josey Wales would come after we, another one say, but he say it quiet, like Josey is horseman from the Book of Revelations.

When me take a stop Bam-Bam screaming like a fucking girl. I say shut up, pussyhole, but he keep screaming like he sleeping with night terror. I kick him like thunder and he jump like lightning. A punch at least would make him feel like a man, but a slap make him feel like a girl. Outside the window gone from grey to yellow and sunlight cut through and land on the floor. There be nothing to do but watch it retreat, from the wall, down to floor, backways across the floor, and then gone like it reverse out the window. No sunray coming in but the room hot like fire. Must be noon.

Now five man roaming about the room and working up a stinking sweat. Now Funky Chicken screaming. Bam-Bam staring into the wall and
Heckle staring at the window like he thinking he can fit through it. I know he thinking that if he back far enough and run with him hand stretch out like Superman, he can fly right through just like that. Or maybe that is what me thinking, because the heat wet and sticky and ting, and me can smell man all around me. Only the two man from Jungle look like they still have sense. They stop walking into each other and start walking together. But one walk past Heckle and brush him foot and Heckle say, Weh di bloodcloth you ah kick me for, star? and jump up and push. The two man from Jungle take set ’pon him double. One grab him right hand, the other grab him left and slam him into the wall making the shack shake. They about to double punch him when Funky Chicken say, You hear a car?

A car coming but it drive past, vrrrroooOOOOOOMmmm and gone. Funky Chicken start to sing that
when the right time come some ah go bawl fi murder
. Bam-Bam up and skipping on the spot, saying must be like a soldier, must be like a soldier, which is not what I expect from him at all. The four walls squeezing in and me is the only one that see it. I can smell five man and all of them stink, and all of them hot, and all of them have that fear smell which is to say all of them sour. Me smell piss too. And sulphur. And camphor ball and wet rat and old wood that termite eat out. The room squeezing in and Josey Wales and Weeper take all of the guns so that me can’t shoot no hole in the wall.

The room getting cooler and first me think it was the sea breeze reach we finally but it was the sun going away. Them going lock we up from night to night. There must be a stick, a column, a pipe, a hammer, a mop, a post, a lamp, a knife, a Coca-Cola bottle, a wrench, a stone, a rock, something to hit them two with when they come back. Something to hit them quick and kill them. Kill anybody. There must be something in this shack to kill whoever walk through that door, because me no care no more, me just want to get out. Heckle in the corner with him hand down him pants. He look ’round the room to see if we looking and take it out and rub it till he make a girl sound and kick the wall. Bam-Bam in him sleep dreaming about Funnyboy and saying over and over, Don’t touch me Clarks.

This is how you stop a screaming man. Punch him in the face if you
want him to feel like a man or slap him across the cheek if you want him to feel like a girl. Josey Wales lift Bam-Bam off the ground with left hand and slap him with the right. Slap east to west then slap west to east and east to west again, like the man is him woman. Me scratch me head because me can’t think about how a wet slap must feel like, for me can’t remember when Josey Wales and Weeper come back. One blink they not here, another blink they appear like magic. Like Obeah. Josey still slapping Bam-Bam, telling him to stop cry like bitch before he really give him something to cry ’bout. The two man from Jungle say go suck your mother, and turn to rush him but Weeper whip out two gun like a cowboy gunslinger and say settle yourself, brethren.

Josey open a big box and plenty gun come out, most of them M16. Weeper open a little box and plenty white powder come out and Funky Chicken and me swarm the table, with Bam-Bam whimpering me me me. Weeper chop up a pile into umpteen skinny line. So he go first, then Funky Chicken, then me, then Weeper again, which make Josey Wales shout at him that he did say that he going to let go off that fuckery. Weeper say, Everything kriss, my youth, everything kriss. One of the boy from Jungle put him nose down on the table but the other boy say no. Weeper point him gun at the boy face and say don’t think me can’t shoot you and still find use for you body. He point the gun at the boy but the boy didn’t flinch. Weeper pull ’way the gun and laugh. I watch Josey Wales watching the whole thing. Josey Wales don’t take no line.

Midway through the third line of coke I gone further than where thinking can take me. Dillinger playing on a transistor radio, I didn’t know the shack have a radio but coo deh, a radio, and Dillinger
gonna lick the chalice inna Buckingham Palace and chase Mr. Wallace
. The railroad shack hot and stink with piss and ting. I done three line but Weeper keep cutting and the lines so thin that as soon as you sniff it gone. The two man from Jungle laughing loud and crying and singing the tune and waving him gun. And Weeper cut me a line and I sniff it in and it burn but sweet burn like a pepper burn and the shadows starting to jump off the wall and dance. Heckle and Funky Chicken look like fool but not me. I beyond wise and fool.

Little things can fill up a long hour. So Josey Wales say hold on, Joe, and I say me no name so, but me can’t remember my name so I take the name Joe, and I say just call me Joe, and it’s the sweetest name, sweeter than sweet. Ten minutes pass, fifteen minutes, one hour, one day, five year. I don’t care, whatever time pass too long and Weeper cut me another line, but say I not getting it unless I show him how to handle the gun. I tell him even a dumb pussyhole who come out of a batty can fire gun and he slap me, but I don’t feel anything. And is just so it happen. I don’t feel no slap, no pain and no bullet. I don’t tell Josey Wales. And when the shadows start to dance they tell me that we have to kill him, we have to kill the thiefing friend and him too, for he and the thief is brethren. And that make him just like the thief. I don’t know how much time passed, but the radio in my head sweet like fuck. He ask if me ready and me say how you mean? Nobody can touch me now, and my eyes see so far and so deep that me in Josey Wales’ brain then out and he didn’t even know. I know how they going to tell this story even now. I know which part get keep and which part get lost.

This is how it feel when you know that you could kill God and fuck the devil. Josey Wales say we set out soon, but I feel like we should set out now and ah grab me gun and think how I want to kill kill kill this pussyhole and nobody going get to kill him but me and I want to kill kill kill and it just feel so good, so raasclaat sweet every time I say Kill kill kill that the echo in the room sweet too. Josey Wales say time to go. Outside is two white Datsuns. Josey Wales tell we right before we leave how you playing both sides but you still a PNP stooge. And how you about to record a song that say under heavy manners and everybody know that is PNP slogan. And that you never change, but after this things goin’ change big.

This is how much time those two go over what we eight going do: three. Me forget the first time and the last time because me feeling this high different. Not that me used to any form of cocaine, but still me know this high different. Funky Chicken already acting bummy. I feel cold, and is not because the sun gone and early night already black and thick. Josey check him watch and cuss, we late to r’asscloth him say. Two white Datsun outside. Josey, Weeper, Bam-Bam and me get in the first. The rest get in the second.

Uptown. Uptown always say the same things to me when I come up here. Green light. We coming coming coming like lightning and thunder. I want another line, just one more line and I fly. A blue car come in front of we and seem to be going where we going. The car is the Piper and we is the rat. We follow the short manager all the way up to 56 Hope Road. Red light say stop but green light say go.

Bam-Bam

Josey Wales said no more line for you, work to do,
We in the car, the big beat jumping bass
No music in the stereo, naigger
Don’t need music for the S90 Skank, naigger
The short stump manager
Swerve out boasty on the road
Road Killer, coulda shoulda full ya full o’
Lead. Eight boys two Datsuns white
Like duppy jump out in broad daylight
Weeper notice him first
We laugh
Man leading we to him own judgment
Pied Piper, Weeper say
Don’t know what him mean, me ask what
Weeper mean
Nobody say but everybody laugh
Gun in my lap rubbing me, rubbing me,
And I want to fuck fuck fuck
Fuck this
In the middle of uptown
Running from Babylon
Uptown jam
Car on top of car on top of car on top of car
Kingston jam
Make we jam it right here and kill this pussyhole
Weeper look at me a way
He can see it
Nobody move
We so close to the stumpy manager we nearly touch
We should bump him, touch him
So that when time run out he
Would see we was coming
Two Datsuns white
Boys behind boys behind the man leading us to you
I rub the gun but this feel fool
Gun is not buddy, gun is just a gun
And I want to fuck fuck fuck
Fifteen and never fuck a ting
Bad man fuck from ten
Bust the cherry cherry bust
One day I saw my father fuck my mother
White Datsun number two in the back
Red car running up the rear
Two cars on two side, blue Cortina, no Ford Escort
Pink Volkswagen
Pink battyman in pink Volkswagen
And nobody moving
It not going to happen
It need to happen this need to happen I take two line
Three line four line
This going to happen
I think to grab the gun and start shooting
That would make people start moving
Weeper start looking
At me, you, ’low the bombocloth gun
Says something about cokehead
You is the cokehead, cokehead
Want to tell him what this fucking cokehead going
Do next but is cool runnings
Cool runnings, cool like a dead idea
Pink battyman in pink Volkswagen looking at we
Four men in a Datsun white
We off to kill, pervert, not to fuck
Point this gun to you pink pussyface
And boom sha-ka-la-ka
The riddim in me head crazy louder
Bam bam stylee
This car need to bloodcloth go!
And then it going
And the manager gone
Peel out like the rooster running
From sixty sexy chicken
Poof zip swoosh
He getting away
We going the same place, Weeper say
Demus not saying nothing
I don’t like Demus
He look at you too long
Like he writing something about you in him head
Coming up Hope Road we see the manager turn in
We stop.
We see and wait.
Echo Squad not standing guard
Echo Squad is PNP
Echo Squad know only one P:
Pay me
Dark come on sudden like it do when you not looking
Sky red then redder
Orange, then oranger
Black, then blacker
I want another hit
I want another hit
I want another hit
It’s because of you
You stand between me and it
And now we coming for you
And we screech through the gate
Fi we car first ride right up to the door.
Second car block the gate
Four man jump out of the car
Like Starsky and Hutch
On the one, on the four
Weeper head for the front door
The master’s door, the estate
This must be a place white man whip slave to death
Kill kill kill
You ’round the back, in the kitchen up the steps
Vibes and weed, we follow your trail but
Josey beat me to the bang
He driving the car yet still jump out first and with purpose
Your wife she ran out I didn’t care
She and some pickney I didn’t care
My bullet buck her in head
She fly clear off the ground
And land flat
I move over to finish the bitch
But she flat and blood a rush out her head
I run fast to get you, to see you, to put you down but
But Josey beat me to the bang
Bam bam, wife dead
And your brethren
And your sistren
And anybody that play guitar
I hear the bam bam bam bam on the ground
And reach up and push my feet
Echo in my head, bam bam
Blood rushing beat bam bam
Bomboclaat fuckery, I wanted to shoot you first
Nobody goin’ forget the man that shoot you
’Round the back won’t stand still even when I stop running.
I run up to the kitchen and cock the hammer
Them going write song ’bout me!
Riddim beating in my head
Beating louder
My father singing
One two three four
Colón
man ah come
With him brass chain ah lick him belly
Bam bam bam
But Josey run in first
Josey bombocloth Josey
He run in on you and lift the M16
But the manager run in, right into you
Right into the way
I moving fast but everything slow
I jump on the last step but the sound stretch and the
Faster I lift the gun the slower it feel
I push my head in and see you, before I see Josey
You don’t know you stand between me and it
Short stumpy manager run right into it
Chatting shit, monkey business
Bam bam bam bam bam
From Josey gun
Josey riddle him thigh, shower him back
He scream and I scream and all you say is
Selassie I Jah Rastafari
And all fall down
Bang a pot, blam a can, wake up dust and burst through
The window
Pow
Josey don’t aim for the head
Like the Cuban tell we
Aim for the head
Make it blast open like a blender
You look straight at me
You drop your grapefruit
You look at me
And I want you to shout and scream and sniff and tear
Piss you pants, jerk and fall
But you just look, you didn’t blink
And I and I
BamBam
Jah Rastafari shot you in the heart
You call out Selassie
You get him? I say to Josey
Yeah
Me get the wife too
Go ’round the front
Straight through the head with one shot
Bitch fly and crash on the ground
’Bout she was going make a clean getaway
Who the bitch think she be, Jill, Kelly or Sabrina
Don’t call the man’s queen, bitch
So you get him?
You get him?
You get him?
Yeah
We run to the front
Brothers was Swiss cheesing the house
Demus run through the front door
Past a girl hiding behind it
And empty a clip that hit the organ
Make a do re fa me so
People inside shuffle and scream
A girl scream out for Seeco
People inside quiet like a mouse
You drop your grapefruit and look straight at me
Like Jesus telling Judas
To get it done already
Me is you, Pilate me is you, Roman soldier
You don’t even know who your Judas was
Demus goin’ be mad that the Judas wasn’t here too
Think he did want him more than he want you
You just happen to be in the way
A brawta, and extra, extra sauce for the dish
Heckle run past Demus down the hallway
And make him gun rip a man in half
Cut a line ’cross the belly
Each shot a blood burst
We shower the place again
And just like so I want to
Make sure you dead
Is me should a make you dead
Me hate bombocloth Josey Wales
Me want to go back ’round the kitchen
And if you dead
Make you deader
Coming to the front Funky Chicken nearly shoot me
You get the wife?
Yeah me get the wife
She did a run to the
Volkswagen
Another man on the floor
The house quiet and shake
Whoop-whoop, sound of the police
Babylon beast
We run
But then me take a stop
As we running out a girl walking in
Angel don’t know she stepping into hell
Brown skin and pretty and look like
She don’t ’fraid to walk
In her sexy jeans and pretty blouse
She come for him me know it
Brown skin and pretty hair
And I did want to fuck fuck fuck
She see we and just stand there
Don’t run don’t back ’way, she just stand there
Maybe she crying or her eye just red
She don’t move
Siren getting nearer and me raise me gun
She must be one of them, me raise me gun
But Josey get to her first.
Josey walk right up to her, right up to her face
Right up to her face and sniff
He sniff and she jump and start weep
That quiet crying that big woman do
Me want her to piss herself
Me want to do it to her but Josey again
He get in me way again I going shoot him
Josey get inna the bomboclaat car!
The first car gone already
Demus Weeper Josey Heckle me
Weeper press the gas
The woman still standing there like she is Lot wife
That look back
Salt
Three gunshot and the back our window explode
And I want to kill kill kill
And fuck fuck fuck
But I scream scream scream
We dip over and swerve in the left
Into car oncoming
We dead now
Car screech and honk
Police coming in hot
Whooop-whoop
Babylon bussing a bang
Cars swerve out of the way, one crash then two
Down Hope Road other cars hear we coming
Police on the backside rushing we down
Move out ah the bloodcloth way
Bam! Make a right on East Kings House Road
Run red light
Screech screech tire soon bust
Whoop whoop
Fucking police
Bloodclaat Babylon
My head getting bigger and heart pumping
Boom boom boom
And you looking at me
Look up and a car coming straight for my head
Stop scream like a pussyhole, pussyhole!
Weeper say and slam the brake
My head clap the dash
He twist the wheel and slam the gas and, and, and

BOOK: A Brief History of Seven Killings
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