Summer Story

[Bandana]

Re: Summer Story

<div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Originally Posted By: LadyZ</div><div class="ubbcode-body">Might as well de jus ban yuh an done </div></div>


[img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/nahnahnay.gif[/img]

[diabolical_Tanya]

Re: Summer Story

Anyone want a copy of JUST the story in word pm mi with your email address [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/70409-waytogo.gif[/img]

[kia027]

Re: Summer Story

Only if you have the ending [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/70388-shameonyou.gif[/img]

[diabolical_Tanya]

Re: Summer Story

<div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Originally Posted By: Kia</div><div class="ubbcode-body">Only if you have the ending [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/70388-shameonyou.gif[/img] </div></div>Yes I do but [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/70390-shhh.gif[/img] noh tell nobaddy [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/grin.gif[/img]

[Bandana]

Re: Summer Story

<div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Originally Posted By: ShoutBoxBully</div><div class="ubbcode-body"><div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Originally Posted By: Kia</div><div class="ubbcode-body">Only if you have the ending [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/70388-shameonyou.gif[/img] </div></div>Yes I do but [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/70390-shhh.gif[/img] noh tell nobaddy [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/grin.gif[/img] </div></div>

[img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/70388-shameonyou.gif[/img] [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/70459-lyad.gif[/img] [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/70388-shameonyou.gif[/img]



I know Nunya woulda sent it to me first [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/blushing2.gif[/img]

[diabolical_Tanya]

Re: Summer Story

<div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Originally Posted By: Bandanna</div><div class="ubbcode-body"><div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Originally Posted By: ShoutBoxBully</div><div class="ubbcode-body"><div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Originally Posted By: Kia</div><div class="ubbcode-body">Only if you have the ending [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/70388-shameonyou.gif[/img] </div></div>Yes I do but [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/70390-shhh.gif[/img] noh tell nobaddy [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/grin.gif[/img] </div></div>

[img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/70388-shameonyou.gif[/img] [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/70459-lyad.gif[/img] [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/70388-shameonyou.gif[/img]



I know Nunya woulda sent it to me first [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/blushing2.gif[/img]


</div></div>Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha Shows you how much you know [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/704555_dwl.gif[/img] Nunya is my second cousin twice removed [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/grin.gif[/img]

[Bandana]

Re: Summer Story

BOADWL!!!

[img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/704555_dwl.gif[/img] [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/70394-bawlout.gif[/img] [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/704555_dwl.gif[/img]


what a way you hahaha after me [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/nahtalktoyuh.gif[/img]



[img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/704555_dwl.gif[/img]

[BlessedLadyOfZion]

Re: Summer Story

buh bye

[Nunya]

Re: Summer Story

So mi git up early dis mawning an finish ie. No spell checks or grammatical checks done. I'se tired.

Tank oonuu fi oonuu patience [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/whatever.gif[/img]

Love oonuu still [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/smile.gif[/img]

[Nunya]

Re: Summer Story

Chapter XXVII

Michelle was tired and bored. They’d been driving around it seemed, for hours, searching for Dean. Audley would park and leave her in the Jeep while he went from one club to the other. She’d broached the idea of just going along with him, inside, just once, but he’d shot down the idea. He wasn’t there to go clubbing. He was there to find his son.

They drove from friends’ house to friends’ house. But none had seen Dean, or if they had, they weren’t saying. Audley was not feeling chatty. His fear was growing that something was going to happen and he felt even more compelled to speed, to hurry and find his boy. Michelle gobbled down two more Gravol and settled into sleep.

*******

“Mama,” Dean began but stopped when Aunt Myrtle held up her hand imperiously.

She sat on the chair that was in the furthest corner of the room and took her time before saying, “Everyting set?”

“Yes,” he replied.

She nodded once. “Paulie?”

“Im outside.”

She was silent for a minute as she stared away seeing something he couldn’t. He stood just on the inside of the door, uncomfortable and impatiently waiting for her to give him the go ahead.

“So is jus yuh an Paulie one?”

“Yes.”

“Yuh sure?” she demanded.

“Yes,” he snapped.

Her eyes swung back to him. He averted his.

“If yuh cyaa hangle dis, tell me now,” she said flatly. “No nedda chance afta dis.”

“Everyting criss, Mama. Yuh nuh need fi fret.”

“Mi nah fret,” Aunt Myrtle said coldly. “A no me a go need fi fret if everyting no happen like mi say.”

Dean stared at his grandmother. Of course he wasn’t afraid of her. He was a grown man after all. He could handle his business and hers too. Why did she have to try and sweat him like this? He wanted to protest her treatment of him, but the words stuck in his throat. He swallowed and dropped his eyes. He wasn’t afraid of her.

“Get it done,” she snapped dismissing him with so many words.

Dean would not acknowledge the relief he felt for the dismissal.

********

Audley’s head lolled back on the headrest. He was trying to think as the Jeep idled, but he was drawing a blank. He’d tried everywhere. He’d called Dean’s cell over and over, leaving countless messages, asking him, begging him to call his father before he went home. It was important, Audley had stressed. I have to talk to you before you meet with Mama. Audley did not call the house.

Now he sat in the Jeep at the side of the road, wondering where he could go next. He would’ve liked to someone off whom he could bounce ideas or get suggestions, but there was no one. He glanced across at Michelle’s sleeping form. She was right, they did enjoy a good relationship. He hadn’t seen that coming. She was nothing like her mother and in point of fact, she was more like her grand aunt that she would ever care to know.

She shifted in her sleep her head colliding dully with the door but she slept on. Audley watched her shift; her skirt riding up around her slightly spread thighs. He turned away, feeling like a lecher but he turned back to look, almost without realizing it. The moonlight night was a servant to her skin. It bathed her darkness made it silky and alluring and ever so touchable. His hand was upon her thigh before he knew it.

*******

Aunt Myrtle watched through her sheer lace curtains as Dean jumped into the car and they sped off. The speed and the very handling of the car caused her worries – it detailed their youth and she wondered if she was entrusting too much to one so young. But it was too late to second-guess herself. If Dean were to inherit it all, he had to learn to do the hard things. One was never too young to learn.

She turned away from the window and gathered her nightdress about her. It was too warm a night to put a robe on, even though it would have been more dignified. The rains were coming - had been for days, and their heralding heat made clothes unbearable. Smoothing her dress she exited her room and walked purposefully to the living room. She knew Nicey would still be there for she had not heard her leave.

********

Dean could still hear his grandmother’s voice in his ear; it was almost a seductive whisper even as it mocked his readiness “If yuh cyaa hangle dis, tell me now.” He shook his head sharply in an effort to dislodge the voice and said over-loud to Paulie, “Yuh ready man? Wi have everyting?”

Paulie glanced sideways at his friend curiously, “Everyting pon lock man, chill. A mek yuh a gwan so hypie hypie all night, iyah?”

Dean’s face twisted. Why was his readiness, his manhood being called into question this night? He hissed his teeth on a breath and said tightly, “[censored] you man. Mi nah lef nutn up to chance. Dis a no joke ting eno.”

“No fret man,” Paulie said, his teeth glistening in the dark interior. “Dis gwine be a night yuh woah figet man. Afta dis, no man can eva step to wi!”

Dean swallowed the un-named knot that rose to his throat and nodded. He would have agreed verbally, but he didn’t trust his voice.

*******

Nicey was standing by the door still, her legs paralyzed by what had transpired minutes before. Dean had walked by her, not even looking at her, and she’d been afraid to reach out to him, though inside she screamed her sorrow. She was sorry, no, she was petrified by what Aunt Myrtle would say, do, now that she knew. Nicey wanted to bang her head against the door. She wanted to slap herself, to curse herself for her stupidity. Why had she felt the need to push? Why had she felt threatened? Because of a little girl who would be leaving soon? How stupid could she have been?

She tried to gather herself, even as her legs remained immobile. She tried to replay what had transpired in the hallway – the words, not the fact that Dean had hit her or that maybe Aunt Myrtle had seen. She tried to recall in exact detail what had been said for that was where her demise could be. Her words could be the death of her. A dry sob pushed past her lips and she bit them in fear.

It was stupid really, to fear an old woman. Nicey was in her prime. She was strong and she was bigger than Aunt Myrtle was. What could Aunt Myrtle do to her? But Nicey knew that physicality was not what she had to fear. What Aunt Myrtle could do, would be much worse than any slaps or thumps could ever be. Nicey tried to remember what was said. What she said. Right now it was the only thing she had control of. The only thing she could spin.

[Nunya]

Re: Summer Story

Chapter XXVIII

“Shiff yuhself,” Dean whispered as he hunkered down near the car. The large crocus bag of wet grass was heavy and cumbersome and he pulled it from the trunk of the car with some difficulty. They were parked at least a quarter mile down the road, outside the small avenue that led to the first house. The road was dark, most of the street lights being broken and the few remaining ones flickering and dim. Still, they had to take extra precaution of not being seen. Paulie was on the other side of the car, crouched low, his bottle bomb ready.

At Dean’s command they moved off at a crouch, frog walking to the house, Dean dragging the bag behind him. It was easy enough for the first few steps, but after that, it began to tell on their backs. But they could not stretch for that would necessitate standing up. They couldn’t take the chance lest they be seen.

Once up the dusty walkway, they stopped and dropped to their knees. Their lower backs, thighs and calves were screaming in agony. They braced their arms against the hard earth and open-mouthed, breathed in relief. It wasn’t all relaxation though. They used the stillness of movement to determine if they were truly alone. The house, a few yards off, was in darkness. No visitors – human or animal-kind, was visible. Dean knew that some of the properties now housed ‘visitors’ – those of the ‘extended stay’ variety. Those who were there as protection. So too, he’d heard that some now had dogs on patrols. But there were no dogs here. Maybe this particular house hadn’t got the memo; or maybe they thought they still had time. Dean and his cohort were here to show them differently.

Paulie jerked his head showing Dean that they should move off. The dropped back to the frog-walk and moved quickly but lumberingly down to the side of house. Their eyes darted about in the darkness and the dimly light yard yielded nothing. At the side of the house, they saw the steel barrel and cautiously stood up to peer inside. Of course they could see nothing.

“Reach in deh,” Dean instructed.

“Whe yuh nuh dweet?” Paulie shot back.

Dean swore under his breath and gingerly reached into the barrel. His fingers came in contact with water and he sank back to his haunches in relief.

“A wha in deh?” Paulie whispered.

“If yuh waa know, reach in deh,” Dean returned.

Paulie hissed his teeth and waited on Dean to act. For it was Dean’s show.

*******

“Mi try wid yuh,” Aunt Myrtle began. “God know say mi try wid yuh.”

“Wha-”

“Doah interrupt mi!” she snapped and glared Nicey into silence. She continued. “Mi know how well yuh did waa jine dis family. Fram lang time. Yuh tink mi didda go mek any an anybady breed fi mi son an mi no go find out bout dem? A long time mi did know bout yuh. Mi know whe yuh come fram an mi know whe yuh people dem come fram. Mi know which pawt yuh gaa school an mi know if yuh did dunce or not. Mi know who an who yuh spread yuh leg fa-”

Nicey choked; her fear gave way to rage. “Yuh check up pon mi?”

“Yeah,” Nicey could see a flash of Aunt Myrtle’s teeth. “Long, long time now. A how long yuh deh yah? Eleven years? Yuh deh yah long.”

“Yuh neva have no right-”

“I have every right!” Aunt Myrtle snapped. “Yuh waa fi married my son. Yuh tink mi whenna go mek im married di fus gal whe waa spread har leg fi im? Eeh? A long time mi a proteck im eno! Lang time. So when im a come tell mi bout yuh waa get married…” Aunt Myrtle hissed her teeth in derision and began wandering about the room. Nicey watched her, remembering the pain she’d felt with the dismissal all those years ago; the knowledge that Audley and Myrtle did not think her good enough.

“Mi decide fi ignore mi good mind and mek im bring yuh yah. An mi did know say yuh nuh good. But mi continue fi no falla mi good mind. Yuh gi im two pickney. An yuh tek good care a dem. Mi cyaa fault yuh pon dat. An mi did all stawt tink say maybe mi did wrong. Maybe mi did too hawd pon yuh. Eeh eh, mi whenna go even sugges say im married yuh. Mi know say im have feelings fi yuh an mi know say im love im pickney dem. But yuh did love one a im pickney dem to much. Too damn much!”

Nicey was trembling so badly she feared she would fall over. And she did not want to do that. She could not show any signs of weakness to Myrtle right now. It would be detrimental. She struggled to remember her lines, what she would say to counteract Myrtle’s claims and suspicions. But Nicey couldn’t think. All she could see was her world falling apart and the tiny, larger than life woman who was reponsible.

“Yuh is nutn but a naasy likkle whore an I want yuh fi cum outta mi house!!! Pack yuh two lilli jingbang dem an cumout! An doah believe fi one minute dat yuh a go tek mi granpickney dem wid yuh!”

[Nunya]

Re: Summer Story

Chapter XXIX


They didn’t frog walk out of the yard. They ran. And not because they were afraid, but because they had so much more to do before the night was over. The billowing smoke behind them provided an ominous backdrop.

“B__ b___ c___!” Paulie screamed, once they were inside the vehicle. “B__r__p__c__!!!!”

Dean said nothing while his friend yelled and pounded the steering wheel. Dean’s hands shook so badly that he bundled the crocus bag as best as he could and shoved it between the seats to the back seats in an effort to hide it. The sharp bursts from the horns of the steering wheel caused him to throw his hand over to Paulie’s arm.

“A wha do yuh man? Yuh waa wake everybady?”

“[censored] dat!” Paulie chortled and put the car into gear. “Yuh nuh si wha tonight mean, my yute? It mean say afta dis, a man cyaa come tep to we eno! Tonight a go prove to everybady say we a big man! Wi nah ramp!”

He pressed the accelerator and the car shot forward on a screech, kicking gravel and dust to the wayside. The momentum threw Dean back and snapped his teeth together. He would’ve sworn but his heart wasn’t in it. As Paulie said, they had much more to do.


*******

“Wha?” Nicey screamed. “Yuh really tink say mi ooda lef yah widout mi pickney dem? A whe yuh tek mi fah?”

“Ah tek yuh fi a nutn more dan a likkle whore. No shame. No likkle class. Nutn bout yuh!” Aunt Myrtle sneered.

“You nuh have no right fi a class nobady! Yuh tink mi nuh know bout yuh? Bout whe yuh up to?”

“Yeah, stawt spread yuh lie dem, nuh. Gwan practice dem pon mi-”

“Mi naffi practice nutn!” Nicey screamed, her throat tight. “Yuh tink mi nuh know? Yuh tink say mi spen all dis time eena dis house yah an really no si whe a gwan? Yuh tink say yuh can come chreatn me an mi jus tek ie so?”

“Jus pack yuh lilli sitn dem an cummout!” Aunt Myrtle said, turning away from Nicey. “Mi nat even waa si yuh, much less hear yuh! Mi no waa nomore a yuh slackness eena dis house. Yuh mess wid mi son an now yuh waa come mess wid mi granson-”

“Move an gwey fram mi!” Nicey laughed hysterically. “Yuh tink say mi nuh know bout dat to? Yuh tink say mi nuh know say Audley a nuh yuh son?”

*******

His breath was coming heavy and his chest was tight while his heart beat faster than it had for a long time. He refused to think. He did not want to acknowledge what he was doing. He wanted only to feel. And he did. His hands rested lightly on her thigh and the heat of her body encouraged him to go further. His lips on his opened mouth were dry as his hands move exquisitely lightly up her thigh and under the light cotton of her skirt. The softness of her skin beckoned him to go higher and he did. His eyes were trained on her face while his hands tested the hem her skirt and skimmed under it, brushing against the silkiness of her inner thigh. Still she did not move and he was emboldened to go higher. He twisted in his seat, his body wanting to get closer, his hand not willing to move away. He ran fingers up her thigh until they were just below the warm raised heat of her crotch.

He swallowed, his mouth no longer dry. His tongue felt heavy and he was acutely aware of the tightness in his jeans. His eyes fell from her sleeping face and onto the bulge of his hand beneath her skirt. He paused for a second, common sense raring its ugly head, urging him to go no further, but he squashed it swiftly and closed his eyes. His fingers, now bonafide heat-seeking missiles, skirted the edges of her panties before burrowing under. The area was no longer warm, but hot. His mouth opened and his fingers burrowed into her flesh. He groaned. It had been so long, so very long. He’d almost forgotten how incredible it was to the touch. He couldn’t think about it. He could only feel. And his member was way ahead of him. For he felt it straining at the confines of his jeans, its head struggling to be where his fingers were, his testicles threatening to deliver. And because he could not think only feel, he was unable to suppress the idea, the movement and he came, inside the tight confines of his jeans.

His fingers jerked, emulating the movements that his member wanted to make, and where he wanted to make them. The sounds burst from him, gasps becoming louder and louder as he enjoyed the painful pleasure of ejaculating. The intensity threw his eyes open and his heart stopped on a beat. For she was staring straight at him.

“Earl,” she said.

[Nunya]

Re: Summer Story

The night was beginning to come alive and not in a way that Dean or Aunt Myrtle had intended it to be. They had wanted screams of panic, people spilling out of homes on the land that Aunt Myrtle wanted back; they had wanted the smoke to drive them out into the blackness. But instead, the night was getting ever more orange from the flames that were shooting up into the skies. Flames from the fires that Paulie had set, having grown quickly bored with the ‘smoke ting’ that Dean had planned. How were they to get a rep if they only burnt wet grass, he'd demanded. Who would take them seriously? Did Dean really think these people would leave like his grandmother wanted, knowing that the most she could manage, the most action she could bring, was burning [censored] wet grass?

It was ridiculous. Hilarious. Child’s play. And they weren’t children. They were big men. And big men did big things. Fires, he’d decided. They had to burn them out. [censored] who wants to stay inside. [censored] whomever slept too deeply. [censored] them if they had children. Who gave a [censored]? And Dean had been swept along by the gale-force of Paulie’s logic. The fact that Paulie drove and Paulie had the lighter and kerosene helped his vision. And Dean could not find the words and the necessary tone to dissuade his friend. Dean did not want to be labelled a p___.

He was frightened and he struggled not to show it. He did not want this rep. He did not want to be a bad man. His life was changing and if he could he would’ve wept for it. All he wanted was the easiness of living at his grandmother’s house. Having enough money in his pocket to go to clubs, buy the latest gear and a little weed whenever he wanted. All he wanted was to get laid whenever he felt like it, walk away when he was bored and doing nothing of great importance if it made his life smooth.

But his grandmother had wanted him to deal with this situation. She’d wanted him to put the fear of God into these ‘squatters’. He would get it all one day, she’d said. He had to prove to her that he was worthy. That he was man enough. His grandmother had made no bones about the fact that she thought his father was weak. Now Dean’s eyes teared at the misunderstanding of his father and he wanted him. He wanted to just hang out with his daddy. To say nothing while they drove around in the jeep, listening to Tosh and riding the curb.

As Paulie cursed in glee, Dean stared out the side window, his fists clenched, his eyes blurry. He wanted Audley. He wanted his dad.

[Nunya]

Re: Summer Story

Chapter XXX

Audley’s fingers were stuck. Well, his fingers were not mired, but the nerves in them were suddenly useless: he could neither go forward, burrowing deeper into the wet heat of her, nor could he pull back even as her eyes held his. He let out a whimper. He felt like he’d been caught with his hand in the cracker tin.

He struggled for something to say or do and tried not to feel the way his member throbbed even as it spat its last. How would he explain this? How would he convince her that it was a mistake? That he was sorry? How could he get her to see that he wasn’t a pervert?

But he wasn’t a pervert. And he was not sorry. He’d felt his attraction growing for her since the first time they’d spoken, in the dining room and she’d laughed at his jokes. Her delicate manner, her latent sexuality, her willingness to be with him, her readiness to talk to him, had drawn him to her steadily and surely. She wouldn’t understand now, he thought. She would panic. But he would get her to see that it could all work out. That he just wanted to be with her. That he was lonely and needed her.

He pulled his fingers relunctantly from within her; regretting the way her body closed against him. He dragged the wetness against her thigh and closed his eyes briefly at the coolness that caressed his fingers. Then his eyes flew open, guilt widening them as he braced to meet her stare. But her eyes were closed. Michelle was still asleep.

******

“You shut yuh mout!” Aunt Myrtle’s voice was a hiss, her rage tangible. “You betta shut it before-”

“Before wha?” Nicey taunted, her laugh making her hicup. “Before anybady find out say mi know? Before Dean an de maaga gal hear? Yuh naffi worry man. Dem nuh deh yah, memba? Audley an she gawn an Dean, yuh beloved grandson,” she sneered, “Gawn go tek care a business fi yuh. Yeah, a wonda a whe yuh have im a do tonight eh? A wha kina crookry yuh inviegle im eena?”

“Mi a warn yuh eno-”

“Yuh a warn me?” Nicey threw back her head and laughed. Then her laughter stopped abruptly and she advanced on Aunt Myrtle, stopping just inches from her. Her voice lowered menacingly.

“Mi know all bout yuh,” Nicey taunted. “Jus like how yuh check up pon me, me, do my homework to. Yeah man, tink say mi did jus roun yah fi fetch an carry fi your comfort? No man. Mi know. Jus like how mi know say Audley a nuh fi yuh pickney an Dean a nuh yuh grandson, mi know adda tings to. Yuh waa know whe mi know? Eeh? Yuh waa know?”

Aunt Myrtle was trembling, but not with fear. The old anger was coming back. The sense of betrayal and injustice that she felt she’d battled with all her life. And she was so tired of it. This piece of filth, standing before her, breathing in her face, spewing venom and making mention of things that did not concern her, was threatening her, Myrtle, who had kinder than she needed to be; more generous and welcoming than any reasonable person could expect. She’d opened her doors to this tegereg and had stood by while she produced grandchildren. And yes, they were her grandchildren! She may not have birthed Audley, but she’d borne him in ways that were more important. And he was her’s surely as if he bore her blood. She opened her mouth to assert this fact, but Nicey was not finished.

“Mi know,” Nicey hissed, her breath hot on Myrtle’s face. “Mi know say yuh tief up nuff lan roun yah. Mi know say yuh a colleck money fram de people dem roun yah lang lang time fi lan whe nuh really belang to yuh. Mi know alla dat. Yuh is nutn but a ol tief! An yuh have de nerve fi come style me!”

Myrtle thought she could feel the blood freeze in her veins. She thought every heartbeat had slowed and was getting slower. Myrtle’s head was light and Nicey’s twisted visage swam before her eyes. But Nicey was wrong. And much as she did not deserve an explanation, Myrtle still felt compelled at stating her truth.

“My land. All a it a mi-mine. My fa-father… my fa-father owe…”

Nicey’s fury was thick and she had much to say. She could not see Aunt Myrtle’s distress and her uncharacteristic floundering. Nicey did not care to see.

“Mi know all bout yuh! Up een yah a galang like yuh a [censored] Queen a Sheba! Like yuh expeck everybady fi kiss yuh dry-up [censored]! Mi know say yuh tief nuff lan fram de people dem roun yah, but even more dan dat, mi know say yuh, tief fram even yuh owna sista! Yuh owna flesh an blood! Yuh come een like ol parasite! Cyaa si nuhbady a live! Jus wickid!”

Aunt Myrtle put her hand out; whether it was to grab Nicey in subjugation or to hold onto her for help, was never made clear for Nicey pushed her away, with a force of years of bottled up frustration and anger. And Myrtle had no resistance. Her frail body, overcome by the build up of events of the past month and the knowledge that her secrets were out, was failing and she fell, her head making a sickening thud as it cracked against the small useless table that was a part of her treasured collection. The pain was at first dulling, then intense and nauseating. She couldn’t move, even though she felt as though she was floating. Aunt Myrtle was dying.

She could feel her heart slowing, her chest tightening. And it was true; one’s life does flash before one’s eyes when they face death. And the snippets of her life that flashed before her mind’s eye held her enthralled.

For the first time in many years she smiled at Pablo. She saw his face, eyes closed, head thrown back as he sang. And in her mind she reached out to trace the tenderness of his face as he looked down at her and promised her fidelity and his everlasting love. She saw her sister Mary, whom she’d loved but had driven away because she could not understand her antipathy toward the child, Petal, fathered by the only man she’d ever loved and birthed by the sister who had hated her unreasoningly. Myrtle wanted to explain to Mary to tell her why. But how could she further defile his memory? And how could she bear to speak of Sarah who’d been responsible for their mother’s death?

Myrtle saw her mother; her face oftentimes tired and lonely and Myrtle wanted to give her the bales of cloth she’d brought her. Mama would love them. Myrtle just knew it.

And with her last few thoughts, she wished for someone who would love her, like a sister, a mother or a friend. She would’ve scowled that Michelle’s face was the one that flooded her mind during the last of her dying moments; she would’ve scowled if she could. But Aunt Myrtle was a practical woman to the last and she could not waste those precious seconds denying her grandniece and the child she carried. For after all, they were her true heirs.

[Nunya]

Re: Summer Story

It had all began to go horribly wrong. Paulie had gotten bolder with every successive fire set. Dean had lost all control of the operation. Paulie kept yelling at Dean that he was p__. No amount of reasoning from Dean had been able to deter his friend.

Paulie had long since grown unconcerned with stealth. He wanted them to hear him coming. He wanted them to see him leaving. Fear, he’d screamed at Dean. That’s what it was all a bout. “Dem fi fraid a wi!”

In all the times he’d accompanied Dean to do the collecting, and later then threatening, he’d never expected much of a resistance. These were people who had lived on the land since Dean’s grandmother was a girl and before. They were infirm and from another era – one where things were done legally and with manners. One went to see a ‘lawyer man’ only after reasonings failed.

But occasionally they tried to act ‘bad’. They displayed machetes and two-by-fours. Paulie had even seen the occasional ice pick. But no expressive threat had ever been made. Didn’t they know that ‘a gun a run tings’? And Paulie had a beaut. He’d never had reason to use it, after all, the tenants were old, but he walked with it none-the-less. Bad man had to be ready always – even when resistance was low.

Tonight, the old and infirm, the frightened and displaced, decided to resist.

As Paulie screeched out of one yard, his car kicking up rocks and making as much noise as he was, the cloud behind them grew. But it wasn’t just dust and stones and shadows. The tenants had decided to fight back. They hadn’t been sleeping and so were not caught unawares. They had not thought it of Myrtle that she would seek to burn them out, that she would get greedier as she grew older. But they were older and wiser and they’d learnt a trick or two during their time. And they were not as senile as she’d evidently thought them to be. For they had recognized after the first fire that it could only be her and her hooligans.

Whomever had an old truck, got into the old truck. An old car, they got into that too. Whoever had only their legs to carry them, pulled on their sturdiest walking shoes and set off. The neighbours who had not yet been affected were coming out, hoses hooked up, buckets filled. The houses weren’t on fire. Not yet. But the old outhouses, and outside kitchens and sheds that housed many knick-knacks were starting to smolder, some already ablaze. The neighbours jumped fences to help, their cries and calls ringing out in the night, calling everyone to assist. And everyone came. But affected elderly wanted to fight back. So they set off, trusting their neighbours to take care of them and theirs. They stopped to pick up whomever were on the road. The path of the fires wasn’t hard to figure out, they had, after all, being banding together to take legal action against Myrtle. They knew all that were on the list. This time though, they weren’t going to wait for a court order to define their rights or defend it. They had what ever was handy: knives, stones, bottles, machetes, axes, hoes and sturdy sticks.

Paulie and Dean had been oblivious to the added noise of the night. Thinking it was only those who woke to seriousness of the fires and were seeking to put them out. They should’ve listened closer for then they would have heard the sounds of the vehicles in the distance, the howls of outrage getting closer.

It was a bottle smashing into the rear window that finally got their attention. Swerving wildly at the unexpectedness of it, Paulie cursed loudly and Dean looked about with growing frear.

“A who fling dat? Yuh hear dat? Paulie, tun roun! Mek wi lef now!” Dean had urged. But Paulie was already pulling the gun from his waistband. Dean’s eyes widened.

“Paulie a whe yuh a go do? Yuh mad? Yuh betta ongle fyah warning shot, yuh hear? Ongle a warning shot!”

Spittle flying from his mouth, Paulie had screamed, “A gwine fyah a warning shot yes! Right eena smaddy b_b_!”

“No!” Dean had yelled. This had gone so horribly wrong! It couldn’t go this far! Reacting without thinking he reached for the gun. Paulie elbowed him out of the way.

“A whe yuh a try?” he demanded angrily. “Mine yuh kno!”

“Paulie gimmie de gun!” Dean demanded, reaching again for the weapon, ignoring how the car swerved from either side of the road, dipping into side ditches, bumping against dirt curbs.

“Move yuh b_b_c!” Paulie snarled, taking his hand from the wheel to push at Dean, the other grasping the gun tightly. Just then something else smashed into the rear window and highbeamed headlights flooded the car.

“Whe de-” Paulie’s arm flew up to sheild his eyes and Dean lowered his head to do the same. But he still wanted the gun and again he lunged for it. Distracted, Paulie reacted too late and the weapon went off. The sound within the car was excruciatingly loud, even so for those in the vehicles behind. A gun. They hadn’t thought of that. Would Myrtle really go that far? But of course! If she was willing to burn them out… The dynamics of the situation had changed yet again, and they watched the car ahead of them swerve wildly before bumping into the uneven dirt curb, spinning and then coming to a stop facing them.

Having already slowed their vehicles, recognizing the foolhardiness of bringing knives to a gunfight, they now stopped and held their breath. Urgings of “Go back!” fought with, “No, we come dis far! Mek we finish it!” and “Whe we a go go back to?” Indecision paralyzed the lead driver. But then the tenor of the arguments shifted when the door of Paulie’s car swung open.

Everyone watched as someone stumbled out of the car, turned about in confusion, shielding his face from the glare of the headlights and then fled in the opposite direction. No one thought to go after him, concerned as they were with car, its blazing headlights and the lone occupant. They were unsure of who had the gun and when it would open up.