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..... walked Teacher, followed closely by Queeny.
Gran's words fell away to nothing.... and her face paled, at the sight of rasta.
Nearly 4 decades had passed since she last saw him... pleading with her to join him. The painful look in his eyes, as she turned and walked away, burned a hole of regret in her heart.
Their fateful goodbye, haunted the secret parts of her soul, and Gran began to shake uncontrollably, as those memories welled up and washed over her.
'Granny!' Henny shouted, as she watched the old woman crumple to the ground at Teacher's feet. The elder rasta bent over to help her up, and Gran lifted her face, to gaze once again, into his familiar brown eyes.
A LONG TIME AGO....
The drought that had consumed the landscape for nearly two years, gave way to a montrous thunderstorm that morning. A loud clap of thunder, rattled the zinc roof, startling Patrice from her slumber.
She glanced over at the shadow, made by the man sharing her bed and smiled. This past week had been tiring, for true. They had spent a great deal of effort, along side their brethren, to make Kingston into a 'Little Ethiopia' for this holy day... 'Groundation Day'.
Ras Tafari Makonnen, King of Kings and Lord of Lords, Lion of the Tribe of Judah, crowned Emperor of Ethiopia... His Imperial Majesty Haile Selassie I, would be arriving in Jamaica today.
Patrice slipped out of bed and donned her slippers, padding out to the kitchen to start her cerace tea. She settled into a chair at the table, waiting for the water to boil, and was shortly joined, by the man who filled her thoughts and heart on this new day.
'Yuh doan wake mi?' rasta smiled, walking over to Patrice and laying his hand to her cheek. She closed her eyes and buried her face against his hand, as he bent down to kiss her brow. 'Everyting awrite?' he continued, moving his free hand to rest on her rounded belly.
Patrice slid her hands over his and turned her head to smile into his face. 'Yuh son sleep soh, Jacob. Mi hope seh im ease-off di puppalick. Jah know mi gwine need alla mi strengh fi get chroo tideh.'
Jacob pressed another kiss on Patrice's head, lightly rubbing his fingers across her belly, tracing the outline of his child. 'Lemme know if im ramp wid yuh, ooman. I&I ave likkle chat, mek im si wah gwaan.'
The young woman's smile broadened, 'Mi know seh im haad ears come een like im fada.' she laughed, before adding more seriously, 'Yuh both haffi leff off di quarrel seen. Mi cyaan tek di cuss-cuss wah gwaan soh. Mi fret fi di brethren... hespecially pon disyah holy day.'
Not wanting to rehash their previous night's agrument, Jacob merely sighed, understanding her fears. Promising to stand clear of trouble today.. discontent would not appear rightous, at the feet of their King of Kings... he poured them both tea, before taking the other chair at the table, for a few moments of quiet reflection on the grand day laid out ahead of them.
Several hours later, Patrice found herself racing down Winward Road to join the crowd gathered at the end of the street. It was almost 11am. The rains, which had continued steadily since dawn, receded, as the sun broke from the clouds, illuminating the Ethiopian airliner as it flew low over the city before landing at the Palisadoes airport.
The establishment was hoping, a visit by Ethiopia's Emperor, would do much to lessen the uprisings staged by Rastafarian. Their disruptions in both the political and ongoing social crisis was perceived as a revolutionary threat which had to be defused. Those in government believed that one way to do this, was to foster close ties with the real Ethiopia, hence Emperor Sellasie was invited to Jamaica.
Ras Jacob, donned in a white robe, as part of a select delegation consisting of Elders and other generals, waited at the airport for Haile Selassie to emerge from the terminal. Tensions were high, as Babylon had taken up positions among the massive crowd.
Jacob kissed his teeth at the soldiers dispersed throughout his brethren; held down through poverty, illiteracy, inequality, and the trickery of Babylon. Even this celebration was almost thwarted, as the government went so far as to deny funds for the decorations that lined Winward Road and other routes, from the airport.
But Rastafari was determined to show the face of Jamaica as a beautiful woman, and pulled from their own pockets the necessary monies, and from their own brethren, labor to decorate the city, befitting a reverant welcome to their Most High.
When Selassie's party was finally spotted by a man stationed in front of the terminal, a chant began to grow, as hundreds of voices were raised in exultation, 'Hosanna to the Son of David'.
The True Vision of the Rastafarian, walked among them.
Gran's words fell away to nothing.... and her face paled, at the sight of rasta.
Nearly 4 decades had passed since she last saw him... pleading with her to join him. The painful look in his eyes, as she turned and walked away, burned a hole of regret in her heart.
Their fateful goodbye, haunted the secret parts of her soul, and Gran began to shake uncontrollably, as those memories welled up and washed over her.
'Granny!' Henny shouted, as she watched the old woman crumple to the ground at Teacher's feet. The elder rasta bent over to help her up, and Gran lifted her face, to gaze once again, into his familiar brown eyes.
A LONG TIME AGO....
The drought that had consumed the landscape for nearly two years, gave way to a montrous thunderstorm that morning. A loud clap of thunder, rattled the zinc roof, startling Patrice from her slumber.
She glanced over at the shadow, made by the man sharing her bed and smiled. This past week had been tiring, for true. They had spent a great deal of effort, along side their brethren, to make Kingston into a 'Little Ethiopia' for this holy day... 'Groundation Day'.
Ras Tafari Makonnen, King of Kings and Lord of Lords, Lion of the Tribe of Judah, crowned Emperor of Ethiopia... His Imperial Majesty Haile Selassie I, would be arriving in Jamaica today.
Patrice slipped out of bed and donned her slippers, padding out to the kitchen to start her cerace tea. She settled into a chair at the table, waiting for the water to boil, and was shortly joined, by the man who filled her thoughts and heart on this new day.
'Yuh doan wake mi?' rasta smiled, walking over to Patrice and laying his hand to her cheek. She closed her eyes and buried her face against his hand, as he bent down to kiss her brow. 'Everyting awrite?' he continued, moving his free hand to rest on her rounded belly.
Patrice slid her hands over his and turned her head to smile into his face. 'Yuh son sleep soh, Jacob. Mi hope seh im ease-off di puppalick. Jah know mi gwine need alla mi strengh fi get chroo tideh.'
Jacob pressed another kiss on Patrice's head, lightly rubbing his fingers across her belly, tracing the outline of his child. 'Lemme know if im ramp wid yuh, ooman. I&I ave likkle chat, mek im si wah gwaan.'
The young woman's smile broadened, 'Mi know seh im haad ears come een like im fada.' she laughed, before adding more seriously, 'Yuh both haffi leff off di quarrel seen. Mi cyaan tek di cuss-cuss wah gwaan soh. Mi fret fi di brethren... hespecially pon disyah holy day.'
Not wanting to rehash their previous night's agrument, Jacob merely sighed, understanding her fears. Promising to stand clear of trouble today.. discontent would not appear rightous, at the feet of their King of Kings... he poured them both tea, before taking the other chair at the table, for a few moments of quiet reflection on the grand day laid out ahead of them.
Several hours later, Patrice found herself racing down Winward Road to join the crowd gathered at the end of the street. It was almost 11am. The rains, which had continued steadily since dawn, receded, as the sun broke from the clouds, illuminating the Ethiopian airliner as it flew low over the city before landing at the Palisadoes airport.
The establishment was hoping, a visit by Ethiopia's Emperor, would do much to lessen the uprisings staged by Rastafarian. Their disruptions in both the political and ongoing social crisis was perceived as a revolutionary threat which had to be defused. Those in government believed that one way to do this, was to foster close ties with the real Ethiopia, hence Emperor Sellasie was invited to Jamaica.
Ras Jacob, donned in a white robe, as part of a select delegation consisting of Elders and other generals, waited at the airport for Haile Selassie to emerge from the terminal. Tensions were high, as Babylon had taken up positions among the massive crowd.
Jacob kissed his teeth at the soldiers dispersed throughout his brethren; held down through poverty, illiteracy, inequality, and the trickery of Babylon. Even this celebration was almost thwarted, as the government went so far as to deny funds for the decorations that lined Winward Road and other routes, from the airport.
But Rastafari was determined to show the face of Jamaica as a beautiful woman, and pulled from their own pockets the necessary monies, and from their own brethren, labor to decorate the city, befitting a reverant welcome to their Most High.
When Selassie's party was finally spotted by a man stationed in front of the terminal, a chant began to grow, as hundreds of voices were raised in exultation, 'Hosanna to the Son of David'.
The True Vision of the Rastafarian, walked among them.
But things are fine and I'm happy. Keeping myself busy... 
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