Dust

Dust
By Delroy Nesta Williams

"Where the hell have you been all this time?" She asked me.

Confused, I looked on. We had only just met about 20 minutes ago. I knocked into her as I was entering the supermarket, doing my weekly shopping for cereal and snacks. I was only now beginning to settle into a routine schedule since moving here to attend school.

She had almost dropped to the floor and after my incessant attempts at an apology; she agreed to have a hot chocolate with me. At first we didn't say much to each other, I was still feeling bad about knocking her down as I was busily fumbling with my phone. But then she started to quiz me and before I knew what was going on, she was giving me intimate details of her childhood.

She was an only child raised by a single mother on the outskirts of Bridgetown. Though she didn't have the luxuries of life, she was always happy until a traffic accident left her mother unable to walk, unable to work. She had to quit school and find work to support her family. Her mother has been her whole world from since childhood and they were more like siblings. She never knew her father and only had a few pictures stored away in a photo album to go on just in case she somehow managed to cross his path one day. She said she only wanted to have a short conversation with him and ask him 3 basic questions but if our discussion was anything to go by, I wouldn't bet on it.

Although she told me a very sad tale, she still had a glimmer in her eyes, like she expected life to give her as much as she had already given of herself. She had that assured confidence when she spoke although she was quite reserved at first, offering only one-word answers when I fired a question or two at her in my responses to her questions.

But the conversation didn't feel like a job interview or some police interrogation. Not at all. I felt at home with her, like I was speaking to my very best friend, a rekindling after spending the summer vacation overseas. It felt like a reconnection after a brief sojourn apart from one another.

And then she smiled. A smile that reminded me of a past life; my past life. One that I had left behind a few months ago before deciding that I needed a new environment. A smile that hid a sadness that's present deep down in your heart. I should know, I bore that smile for years up until a few months ago.

Dominica had become increasingly stifling for me with the political turmoil, and the indifference that was slowly but surely creeping into our society was worrying. I made a choice to leave to further my studies but in truth, I left so I could live my life without the restrictions that Dominica had used to pigeon-hold me all this time.

My every move was under the microscope. Everybody knew me. I couldn't go anywhere without being recognized, who could live like this? The last straw came a few months before I left, since then I had just be coasting through the days awaiting my departure.

I had opened up to Kevin, a very close friend about a secret and instead of offering advice and words of comfort he proceeded to belt out abusive, damaging accusations. In an instant he reduced our friendship to nothing.

Now here I was sitting next to this Bajan young lady, who was pouring her soul out to me. I needed to listen, understand and be there for her, in any way that I could. I knew what she was going through, that was exactly what I had wished I had received from Kevin back in Dominica. I had gotten the opposite though. Putting myself in her shoes, I knew that I couldn’t just walk away now.

"All she needed was a good makeover and she would be the envy of all the girls and redirect the attention of the guys," I thought to myself.

The conversation kind of got stuck and I didn't know what else to say or ask so I just blurted out an invitation to her. I hesitantly formed those words with my lips and was afraid of rejection the moment the words left my mouth.

"So you want to come over my place, I could cook or order pizza or something?" I asked.

The thing is I couldn't cook. I could barely fry eggs. I lived off cereal, pizza and KFC. I expected her to turn down my invitation but she surprised me.

"Let me just call my mom and let her know I will be out a little later," she said.

And with that, I had a house guest. We walked towards my apartment very quietly, until I started humming a Selena song. She joined in too, even twirling and dancing along the sidewalk. She had a beautiful voice.

I lived just two blocks away from the coffee shop but we took 20 minutes to get there, arriving at the same time as the delivery guy.

"Perfect timing!" I exclaimed as I handed him the money and took the box from him.

"Supreme!" She said as she breathed in, "smells like Heaven too."

"You're a foodie?" I asked.

"Not really but I love pizza," she responded, as I pushed my way thru the hall towards my apartment door.

I lived in a two-storey apartment building, near a small but beautiful beach. I would sit on my porch on most evenings and watch the sun set over the turquoise water but I never ventured onto the beach. I couldn't swim. That was one of my little secrets that I kept hidden from the world.

I opened the blinds so she could see the view but she didn't take any notice. I figured she saw these vistas all the time living in Barbados.

She had chocolate-brown eyes, deeply creviced dimples and the small scar on her right eyebrow that could surely pass for a beauty mark. Her skin glowed in the dim light of the late afternoon, the dirty-gold sun rays of the Bajan sunset that just crept in through the panel. Though her smiled seemed to hide something, it still was sincere. She was happy in the moment.

"TV or music?" I asked.

"Movie!" She asserted without even a slight hesitation, almost like she read my mind.

"Any type?"

"Yea, anything will do!"

I sat back on the couch as she reached for the pizza box, placing a slice each on plates then handing it to me.

"You know what would be great with the pizza?" She asked.

"What?" I retorted gently.

"Wine!" She exclaimed, "Do you have any?"

"Yup, I do" I replied, lifting myself from the couch and finding my way to the kitchenette.

"Red or white?" I shouted.

"White! Please... Merlot?" She chuckled.

She was being funny but more assertive than I had expected. When I got back to the living room she was slouched back on the couch, leaving little room for me.

"So where am I supposed to sit? On the floor?" I asked.

"Yes," she joked, "but you can squeeze yourself next to me if you prefer."

I handed her the two glasses that I had poured, placing the bottle next to the couch and pushed my way under her so that her head rested softly on my chest. It didn't feel uncomfortable, I didn't feel romantic - it just felt like something that she needed at the time.

We sat there quietly sipping our glass of wine, taking small bites from the pizza and watching the movie. Every now and then she would let out this stifled laugh though, a hybrid of a chuckle and all out outburst. She still wasn't sure of what was going on. To be honest, I wasn't sure either, I was just glad to have some company over for a change.

Sitting alone in a room for months on end with only the TV for company can let anyone lose their mind at time. It was either the TV, books or my thoughts and too often my thoughts led me back to Dominica so her presence was more than simply welcomed between these four walls.

We sat there, quietly watching the movie and then instinctively she must have turned and softly kissed me. She was so nervous or shy about it that her lips almost didn’t touch mine. I almost didn’t feel it but it opened my eyes. Her eyes were closed as well. She must have closed them for the kiss. The movie had almost put me to sleep before the touch of my lips from hers.

"What are you doing?" I asked softly while gently pushing her away but not far enough that she would feel uncomfortable about it.

She looked into my eyes and I saw that look again, the lost little girl. The girl who had grown up all too quickly and faced the harsh realities of the world by her lonesome. Her face showed all the emotions of her past, the hurt and pain of a rushed childhood.

"I'm kissing you" she said. Her eyes falling to the floor as though now ashamed of what she had done.

"But why?"

"Why not?" She interjected, still not looking up at me.

"You can't! You shouldn't!" I replied.

"Why?" She asked, her tear ducts now swollen as the first signs of bodily fluid raced from the corner of her eyes unto her cheeks. She was crying.

“Because... Because... I am gay," I sounded as I wiped that first tear away. It was the first time I had told anyone since Kevin. She was the second person. This was the second time that I had blurted out something to her when I didn’t really want to; this was becoming a bad habit.

I got up from the couch, walked towards the window and stood there watching the horizon. I watched and just watched trying to block out what had just transpired between she and I. I too started to cry as I placed my hands up against the glass and leaned against it. It was cold, cold as my world in Dominica had become just before my exile to Barbados.

I remember the distance and darkness that had been dug between Kevin and me when I had told him. I had been completely honest with him. I hadn't expected his rejection and even after he scolded me I was half-expecting our friendship to continue. Instead he threatened me, hurled insults and was the main reason I had left Dominica. Although he hadn't told anyone, I was always afraid that my secret would get out. So as soon as I was able to get away, I ran to Barbados. I had tried calling him since I arrived but the calls were never picked up. I suspected that he changed his number. He wanted nothing to do with me. After all, he had made it extremely clear that he wasn't gay and wouldn't accept my lifestyle, not even as a friend.

Just then I felt her warm arms caress my waist.

"It's okay!" She said, "You’re no less of a person."

First Date

First Date

By Delroy Nesta Williams

Caris had always liked Sanya, even from way back during his days at the Goodwill Secondary School. But she was never interested in him; she was too busy flirting with all the teachers to take notice of his childhood crush. He would have done anything for her back then and even now as they had maintained a close bond.

Caris always wanted to be in a relationship with her but was very careful not to get too emotionally attached even if deep down in his heart he had always loved Sanya and she was all that he had ever wanted from a lover. Even after all his past girlfriends, he always felt in his heart that she was the one for him but he had realized early that he wasn’t her type and was somewhat content to stay in the shadows and be the man that she needed, especially when she couldn’t have the man that she wanted.

She had just gotten out of a serious breakup and although Caris knew that the rebound situation wasn’t the ideal way to get her to fall in love with him, he would still try his luck, even if it screamed of desperation.

His friends had already teased him that he was putting Sanya’s “pussy on a pedestal” and for that reason, they felt he would never cross the friendship line with her. He was stuck in the friend zone of camaraderie and that was as far as he would ever get with her. Curtis and Bully tried on many occasions to knock some sense into Caris but he couldn’t let go. Letting go of your lover is hard enough, letting go off your first crush and love was proving to be damn near impossible for Caris. He wanted Sanya and that was all that mattered to him.

He needed to make his move, if not now then he would not get another chance like that in years. He was certain this was the appropriate time. He was just stepping out of the office to meet up with Curtis and Bully for their customary mid-week lime - a stop at the After 4 Lounge for beers and guy talk. Curtis would boast of his weekly female conquests while Bully would pick on Caris for his ineptitude with the female sex. It wasn’t that Caris couldn’t get a woman; the guys were more perturbed that he was obsessed with Sanya as The Woman. They didn’t see what he saw; in fact, they were probably blind to it. Kereem was the only sensible one in the crew, well that’s the way that Caris saw it. Kereem fed Caris’ dream as much as he could, he was the ultra-motivator that Caris needed when he thoughts of giving up on Sanya surfaced, which was often enough.

As he was about to start up his ride, his cell phone rang. He looked at the screen, it was Sanya. Caris breathed in hard, calming himself before he dragged his finger against the screen.

            “Hi, who is this?” he answered, in the calmest voice he could muster, although he was nervously excited.

            “Caris?” she questioned.

            “Yes Caris!” he confirmed.

            “You don’t have my number stored in your phone? I am not calling you from an unknown number,”

            “Yes I do, I am just playing around.”

            “Oh, I was wondering why you didn’t know it was me,”

“I know it’s you Sanya, I recognize that voice anywhere I hear it… So, what’s up?

“I am cool, just about to leave work, what you up to?”

“Gonna chill with my boys,”

“Oh okay, them!”

“You had something in mind?” Caris asked, almost too eagerly.

“No, not really, we just haven’t hung out in a while, Caris!”

“I know, we gotta make some time for that,” Caris said, anticipating a request as the phone almost slipped from his now sweaty palm.

“I guess we will hang out sometime soon,”

“Yes, I guess,”

“I wanted to go out this weekend, the Jah Cure concert but I am broke,”

“I am going. I wouldn’t miss Jah Cure,”

“Enjoy then,” she slowly uttered.

“Let me buy you a ticket then,” Caris offered.

“You would? Thank you Caris, I appreciate it! I know just what I want to wear,”

“No problem,” Caris pronounced.

“Well go and enjoy your lime,”

“Later,” Caris said as he ended the conversation.

“Yes, finally!” he cried out as he kissed the screen of the phone.

Caris was excited; he could hardly control his emotions as he sped across Roseau. He hopped out of his car and met Bully, Kereem and Curtis at the bar. They were already seated looking at the television screen as a Champions League encounter between Manchester United and Bayern Munich occupied their attention.

            “Drinks on me!” Caris shouted across the floor.

            “Seriously?” Bully inquired.

            “Yes, I’ve got some great news. Carib beers for everybody!”

            “You got a promotion? You won the lottery? You got some pussy? What is it?” Curtis demanded.

            “Better than that?” Caris responded.

            “Nothing can be better than pussy, unless it’s two pussies!” Bully affirmed.

            “It’s Sanya!” Caris said as he motioned over to a stool next to Bully.

            “I don’t want to hear it. Boy you know you’re never gonna get her, stop waste your time!”

            “Shut up, we’re going out this weekend!”

            “Really? Kereem asked, “Good for you and her!”

            “Finally, I hope you don’t chicken out. Be aggressive, go after her!” Curtis advised.

            “We all know he’s not going to do anything, he just going to sit and smile at her,” said Bully, “I feel like Caris has a vagina between his legs.”

            “You’re not spoiling my mood, not today. We’re going to Jah Cure concert!”

            “Jah Cure?” Kereem asked, almost spilling his drink.

            “You know she just using you to go to see Jah Cure, right?” Bully shouted out, “I won’t be surprised if she ends up in his hotel room after the show.”

            “Nah, she’s not like that, she said we needed to hang out! I think she figured out that I am the man for her, finally!”

            “Boy, move on! Remember I tell you that. You’ve become obsessed over an average woman and that can never be a good thing.”

            “How long has it been since you’re chasing her?” Curtis asked.

            “Too long!” Bully responded before Caris could get a word in.

            “I will do what I have to do. You all will see, this is a new, different and aggressive Caris,”

            “Yea right. Boy, pass me my beer. Just disturbing the game for Sanya talk!”

And before Caris could say anything in his defense, they turned their attention back to the football match. Three rounds of drinks later and an earful of football banter meant that the conversation was in the back of the minds of everybody, everybody except Caris. He snuck out of the bar, which by now was overcrowded with Manchester United fans and had become hostile territory for him, especially as he supported their rivals, Manchester City. He didn’t leave because of that though, he needed to clear his thoughts, he was still thinking about Sanya.

The sun was just about to set as he sat down in front of the steering wheel. He glanced into the rearview mirror, winked at his image, until he forced a slight smile. The bar conversation left him uneasy and he needed some reassurance that he was doing the right thing with Sanya. He turned the key into the ignition and the radio started up. The DJ was playing Jah Cure’s promotional music for the weekend concert. The artist’s Unconditional Love single filled the car – that was all the sign Caris needed as he leaned back and took in the words. He would make his move on Sanya, it was time. He started singing too, screaming out the words as he got lost in the moment. He pictured himself sipping drinks with Sanya at Mero beach, watching the sunset, stretched out on a blanket as she lay against his chest. She was smiling as he whispered in her ear, biting the tip of her earlobe.

            “Boy, what are you doing?” Bully cried out over the music as he tapped the glass.

            “Shut up! I am trying to think,”

            “Sounds like you’re trying to sing!”

            “And your point is?”

            “Nothing dude, just messing around. We’re heading to Icho, you’re coming?”

            “Yea, I will meet all you there!”

            “And please don’t quit your day job for a singing career, you will die broke,” Bully laughed as he walked away from the car.

They spent the next two hours at Icho eating, drinking and playfully chasing skirts. Caris appreciated those moments and although the guys always picked on him, he knew that they all had his best interest at heart.

The rest of the work week was a blur as Caris tried to concentrate at the office but he couldn’t shake thoughts of Sanya from his mind. He picked up the phone several times to call her only to end the call before it had gone through to her.

            “Why am I so nervous?” he questioned. “I am acting like I’ve never spoken to Sanya before; like this is the first time I am going to say two words to her. Get a grip Caris!”

            “Are you okay?” Michael, a coworker asked as he entered the workstation.

            “Yes, why?” Caris replied

            “Well, you’re talking to yourself and it sounded very aggressive. You need to take a break?”

            “No, I am fine… I will be fine!”

            “You’re sure?”

            “Yes I am sure… I will relax later!”

            “Later?” Michael questioned.

            “Yea, I am going to Krazy Coconuts for the Jah Cure concert with a friend,”

            “Sanya?”

            “How did you know?” Caris asked, a little startled.

            “You called out her name!”

            “I did?”

            “Yes, you did! You sure you don’t want to leave work a little earlier today? It’s already Friday and almost everyone has left already,”

            “Maybe I should. It would give me some time to run to Cocorico, pick up a bottle or red wine and a few other things!”

            “Got big plans?”

            “Yes, I do!” Caris affirmed. He also needed that affirmation as well. He doubted himself until the conversation with Michael.

            “Well do your thing!”

            “Thanks man!”

Caris jumped from his seat as he shut down his computer and cleared his desk. He was out of the office. The vibe in Roseau was all about Jah Cure as Caris made his way around town. Reggae was in the air and Caris breathed in deeply as he envisioned his night with Sanya. He would drop by Sanya’s home with a rose and a bottle of wine. Have a glass or two before leaving for the show. He wanted to stop off at Old Stone Bar and Grill and treat Sanya to a nice meal. He had already arranged with the proprietor for a special table in a corner and had asked that it be adorned with ylang-ylang flowers. Caris had picked them himself at the Botanic Gardens on his lunch break. They would also place small chocolates all over the table in a heart shape along with two candles to compliment everything. Sanya was only expecting Jah Cure but Caris would deliver a lot more.

Splashing on some cologne after his bath, he breathed in deeply. It was a do or die moment for him and Caris knew it. He had fogged up the mirror during his shower and as he wiped the surface, he smiled and winked at himself. He felt good; he had stuck to his plans. It was all paying off finally.

As he dressed, he danced away to some Beres Hammond music in the background. He pulled out a brown dress pants from his closet and a plaid dress shirt. His brown Clarks complimented the pants well as they fell over it, just massaging his ankles. He spun around and did a Michael Jackson impression. Caris was in a state of heavenly bliss.

He slammed the door behind him as he exited his riverside apartment. Touching his pockets for the car keys, he remembered the tickets.

“Phew, I almost forgot them,” he thought, shaking his head in disbelief as he returned to the house to retrieve the tickets.

He pulled up a few houses away from Sanya’s in Canefield as he needed a moment to recollect his thoughts and go through his actions for the rest of the night. He had already planned it all out in his mind but needed a reminder. He opened the glove compartment and went through his notes. He needed to be meticulous and aggressive but still with a charming tone.

Caris stepped out of the vehicle and was greeted with a stiff breeze almost knocking his glasses from the bridge of his nose. He stopped for a second put his hands over his face and then proceeded to the house. A few young men were hanging out on the corner smoking weed and drinking, the usual Friday night activity for a lot of young men. As Caris busied past them, one of the young men stopped him in his tracks.

            “You doh checking your boys den?” he asked.

Caris who was still hampered by the wind looked up at the figure who was now standing dead in front of him. The dread-locked young man had a spliff in his mouth and wore more tattoos than clothing. Caris squinted as the young man grinned at him, blowing smoke into the air. Caris knew that smile.

            “Daniel? Daniel Gregoire? Bro is that you?” exclaimed.

            “Yea man, is me dat!” he confirmed.

            “When did you get back to Dominica?”

            “I was always here, I was in Stockfarm!”

            “ohhhh… okay,” Caris staggered, “but it’s good to see you man. I going on a little move there, but we go have to link up.”

            “No problem, do your thing, we will link up,”

Caris shimmied out of the crowd after tagging Daniel. He had changed so much, from the nerdy little high school classmate to an ex-con. It had really been a long while. Caris couldn’t dwell too much on that situation though as thoughts of Sanya came rushing back to him. He opened the gate and stepped onto the walkway. The overgrown lawn, which was now crowding the walkway, was wet from an earlier shower. Caris bent down to touch the grass, moistening his palms and then wiping them on his pants. He was still very nervous.

He proceeded towards the door but stopped dead in his tracks as he got to the front step. He was about to reach for the doorknob when he saw two figures through the window. He wasn’t expecting anyone else to be there. He wanted to retract his steps and then return later. He had arrived earlier than Sanya would have expected. As he motioned to turn around, he glimpsed through the window, at the exact time that a gentle gust of wind pushed against the curtain.

Caris saw an image that left him open-mouthed. Sanya was in a deep embrace with another man. It wasn’t a friendly kiss; more like the deep, passionate, soulful kiss that Caris had thought would end his night. Instead it was about to ruin all his plans.

The shadowy figure of the guy reached for the back of Sanya’s head, tilting it slight and tightening the kiss as she let out a low, hissing moan. Caris dropped to his knees. He turned away completely from the silhouetted appearance but recoiled onto the front step. He put his hands over his face and breathed in deeply. It was over. Caris stood up, put his right hand into his pocket, pulled out the Jah Cure tickets and pushed them underneath the door. He wanted Sanya to find them there; he wanted her to know he was at her doorstep.

As he walked away from the scene, he turned and gave them one final look. The curtain flung up even higher this time to confirm the earlier scene.

“But, I know that haircut; I know those ears,” he thought, “that’s…” but his mouth didn’t allow him to finish his statement. It was too dry.

He turned to his ride, drove straight home, put off his cell phone and took a sip from the bottle of wine that he had wanted to share with Sanya. He threw the rest against the wall as he dived into his bed. He lay there with his face towards the ceiling as the fan circled. Tears filled his eyes. He stayed in that very spot until sadness forced him to fall asleep.

The End.

That Night

That Night
by Delroy Nesta Williams


“Has the Jury reached a verdict?”

“Guilty!” someone from the crowd screamed out.

“Quiet please! The Judge scolded....

“Yes, your Honor, we have,” the Foreman responded over the clamor in the courtroom.

“Quiet, Quiet,” Judge Lewis continued from the bench as he pounded the gavel, “I will throw out everyone if this continues!” as he motioned to the bailiff, who was trying his best not to stare in the direction of the Judge.

“If this doesn’t cease immediately I will hold everyone in here in contempt of the Court and throw you all in the cell,” he continued as the crowd finally settled down, “learn how to behave in a court of law!”

The courtroom was filled to capacity as my court case had become the talk of the community. It had turned friends into enemies but for the most part it had turned almost everyone against me and my family over the past six months, so much so that they all wanted to tear me into shreds.

I stood next my lawyer and I gazed over to her to try to read her thoughts about the pending verdict but all I could see in her expression was a deep, blank stare into nothingness. Although she was looking straight ahead at the Judge’s bench but wouldn’t beat an eyelash. She was looking in the Judge’s direction with impatience like she had somewhere else that she needed to be. She was clicking her heels against the tiled floor and seemed in a hurry to get out of the courtroom. Her demeanor was starting to give her away as much as her makeup. It had been exquisite that day but her lipstick didn’t suit my fancy. I wasn’t sure what she was wearing under her gown but something told me it was no business suit. The further pounding of the gavel by the Judge disturbed my thoughts though as I turned to eye the jurors who now had my fate within their hands.

I had my legs and wrists bound in chains and in my head I was already very much a prisoner. I had only pleaded not guilty because my family wanted to try the case in court in hope of a mistrial but I had come to accept my fate a very long time ago. From the first days of the trial I had wanted to stop the Judge and get it over with but my lawyer and my mother had convinced me that there was still a chance that I could have gotten off on some technicality. That technicality didn’t work though and now I was convinced that I would live out the rest of my life behind the doors of Her Majesty’s Prison. It would not have been my first time up there; in fact, I already had a reputation within those walls and some enemies awaiting my return.

“Your Honor, we the jury, find the defendant guilty on all counts,” resounded in my head a few times before I bowed to the floor, clenched my fist and smiled. I smiled not from being happy, but because there was now closure for me and I could now face what I had been promised in my mind. I was a prisoner months ago, even before the start of the trial, now I could live out the life of one. The anticipation of the verdict was worse than the verdict itself. I turned around and saw my mother’s tears being wiped by my sister as she tried to console her a few rows behind me. It was a sad sight but I refused to dwell on that.

“Sentencing will be in one week’s time, on February 05th at 9:00a.m. in the morning,” Judge Lewis confirmed as he slammed his gavel down before leaving the bench for the comfort of his chambers.

“I will be fine!” I mouthed to my mother as she shook her head in disbelief. She had always wished the best for me and envisioned me as someone that I wasn’t. All my life, at least from what I can remember of my childhood, had been lived trying to show her otherwise, trying to dispel her myths but my mother was blind to all that I had done. She preferred to think of me as her perfect firstborn child. In a way I think she created the monster that I had become. She showered and pampered me so much that the only way I felt free was to break away from her bonds. As the bailiff lead me out of the courtroom, I again looked in her direction but this time around, her face with buried in the shoulder of my youngest sister who could only shake her head in my direction. It was the type of expression that I had wished for as a teenager but never got. Now as a man confined to the walls of a prison, I had finally found what I had sought. It came with a price, a heavy one too but at least I had found disapproval from my mother and sisters.

I kept replaying the moment in my mind over and over again as the police bus sped out of the city to make its way to St. Johnson’s Village, followed by scores of media persons attempting to get a last shot for the 6 o’clock news. The potholed road to the prison made the ride really bumpy and for a moment it seemed like I was on a bouncy castle ride again. I remember the first time going to Coney Island as a little boy; it was the happiest of my childhood memories. I was too small for the other rides but not the bouncy castle. Cotton candy and bouncy castle, that was the world to me at that time but not now. Those two young girls were probably at that bouncy castle age too. I couldn’t take back what I had done, so there was no use feeling regret, I would just accept the consequences.

I didn’t enter the house to hurt them; I didn’t even know they were in there. But when I swung the bedroom door open and just saw them lying there in the bed, so inviting, something took over me. I approached the bed, looked around on the vanity for anything to steal but there wasn’t a valuable in sight. I turned towards them and the next thing I know I’m hovering over the two of them, their clothes covered in blood. My hands and clothes were covered in blood too, so I panicked, I really did. If I had taken a moment to think, to really think, maybe I would have gotten away with it all. Instead, I rushed out of the house, covered in their fluids and ran onto the streets for all the neighbors to see. I screamed my lungs out like a little baby right then and there as the crowd gathered to witness the commotion. Later, I was accused of rape and double murder but like I had testified during the trial, I couldn’t remember ever doing that. Maybe I did murder them but I wasn’t a rapist.

The gates to Her Majesty’s Prison swung open to reveal my new home. A newcomer would have been petrified to enter into the yard but it was familiar territory to me. I saw Snookie, the stray cat that had also made the prison’s yard its home, under one of the vehicles. It was hiding from the midday sun, coiled up like a snaked behind one of the tires. The old broken down Landcruiser was still rotting away under the office window of the Superintendant. I loved the familiarly of this place. I breathed in slowly; the aroma from the kitchen was just beginning to escape from the small window inside the main hall. I was famished. Thank God we had made the journey before the lunch hour. Prisoner registration took mere minutes, as I already had my file. The registration clerk just smiled at me when she realized who I was, not even a look of surprise on her face or a second look.

“It didn’t take you too long to get back in here?” she asked. I just nodded with a small smile of my own. Words weren’t needed at this time. She could read more from my face than I could ever utter at that point.

I was assigned to Cell Block D and given my new name, Inmate 7311. It was my first time in Cell Block D; I had known the other areas a lot better. Inmate 7311 was then ordered to his holding cell to wait the lunch hour. As I was hurried through the prison yard, the other inmates were either busy with exercise drills, basketball or in the workshop area. A few of them stopped for a few minutes to glance at me. I caught a few with sly smiles as well. The prodigal son had returned home and as expected, his brothers were not at all pleased. Or maybe they were, maybe the expressions on their faces were strained from hiding their joy. A few lingered around the makeshift library that was once my favourite area in the prison. I used to spend hours reading black history books and studying the Bible with the evangelists who came once a month to save us. We needed saving - saving from ourselves, fellow inmates and from the prison itself. The greatest gift you could give an inmate was the gift of hope, our maybe the greatest curse in my case. At every instance that I thought that I had turned the tide in the prison and was on my way out, I found myself returning to the same lifestyle on the outside. I actually felt a lot safer within the prison walls than out there in the real world. I knew what time my meals were given to me, what time I was allowed to do everything. Outside these walls, I was left to my own demise. I was never ready for that responsibility.

The sound of the buzzer disturbed my thoughts; it was now time to eat. I rose up and made my way to the canteen counting my steps to keep my mind occupied. Although I was really hungry, I dragged my feet to delay my arrival. The canteen would be my first exposure to the full prison population. Before and during my trial I had been kept in complete isolation, with only brief moments of communication with the other prisoners. Today was different, for I had already been found guilty and I wasn’t sentenced as yet, it was good enough of a reason to transfer me to the main holding areas with the other inmates.

As I strolled through the line, getting scraps of food dumped unto my platter, I remembered being in my mother’s kitchen. It was separate from the main house and so I would often sneak out at nights or early morning to steal from the pot. We didn’t have much though and sometimes all we had to eat was bread. There were many occasions where all I had to put in the bread was used cooking oil. It still had the flavor of the smoke herring or egg of the other day’s meal; bread and oil was the best – especially if I had cold glass of lime squash to drink.

I left the hall still hungry, wishing that I could have eaten a meal from my mother, from the blackened pot that always took days to clean after the meal. That was the first time since I had entered the prison that I felt all alone, lonely enough to force a tear from my eye. One solitary tear, it was fitting.
That was the last thing I really remembered before drifting away on my cot. It was cold, maybe from being unused for so long and a stiff cold breeze rushed through the small window. The worn out comforter didn’t little to keep me warm but I did manage to close my eyes. I was now in dream land.

The door of my cell flung open and as I opened my eyes from my small cot, I saw a figure emerge from the corner. It was one of the officers. He stood there with a big grin on his face while my eyes got used to the light in the room.

“What’s going on?” I asked, sensing that I was in some sort of trouble.

“Where do I start?” he asked.

“From the beginning?” I retorted.

“Keep quiet!” he shouted, obviously disturbed by my nonchalance. I shifted my body and was now seated on the cot, ready to spring up in case of any sudden move by the officer. I didn’t like his mood or the sudden quiet that existed in the neighbouring cells. It was too eerie, like they were all waiting on the main event.

“You know those two girls?” he asked.

“Which two girls?” I quipped, trying to be defiant.
“They’re family,” he said, “my wife is related to their mother. She cries every night for them, every night.”
“It wasn’t me; I swear… it wasn’t me!” I begged.

“She keeps me up all night with her tears, I can’t sleep, I can’t even make love to her anymore. Do you know what that feels like?”

“No, I don’t… I’m sorry… I am sorry!” I replied trying to force tears from my eyes, hoping that it would save me from what was about to happen.

“You will be sorry, trust me!”

“Do what you must but if I survive, you won’t!” I sounded, trying to give an air of confidence and bravado. But my last words almost formed a knot in the bottom of my throat. My bowels seemed tied up too. I was trapped, he know it and I did too. I couldn’t move a muscle.

“I thought I told you shut up!” he yelled as his voice echoed around the four walls of my cell, resonating like the sound effect in the movies. At the moment when I thought he would attack me, Officer Daniel surprised me and turned around to leave. It was only then that I noticed that he dragged his back leg, probably the result of some accident or broken bone. He hit his baton against the door frame and it dropped but he didn’t stoop to pick it up. Officer Daniel just left it there, at the base of the frame. In my hastiness, I leaped from the cot to retrieve the baton but as I picked it up two or three men jumped me, one kicking me to my head and the other to my chest. I tried to curl up in a ball to reduce the effect of the blows but they still connected firmly to all parts of my body. It was no use to scream out; this was prison not the school yard. I tried to block out the pain of the situation and for the first time in months, I attempted to pray. The evangelist who visited the prison during my earlier sojourns had taught me how to pray but I had neglected the spiritual part of my life for a long while. I needed the Lord though, that was the only way I would make it out alive. I was about to mouth out the words of my prayer when I received what felt like a shoe to my mouth, my front tooth flew out and my mouth filled with blood. I swallowed hard and the blood descended down my throat. It was the first time that I had tasted my own blood. More and more blood filled my mouth so I spit it out at the men in the cell.

“Motherfucker!” one screamed as he landed a punch to my left eye. I couldn’t hold it in anymore and I cried out in agony.

“Take off his fucking clothes,” one of them shouted. I opened my eyes to peek at my attackers. They were dressed in prison blues, they were inmates. Somebody else was there too. A shadowy figure stood above watching from the dark.

“Move!” he shouted and as the three inmates cleared the way, a bucket of ice cold water hit my body. I didn’t feel it on my skin, I felt it in my bones, and every nerve within me reacted to that water. My blood stopped pumping for a few seconds before I realized what had actually happened to me.

“Now, finish the damn job!” he commanded.

That was the last words I remembered hearing. I blacked out soon after from all the blows to my head and chest but looking back it was more of a survival mechanism. I don’t think I would have made it if I had remained responsive. They maybe thought I had died and so left my lifeless body in the cell to soak in the water and blood.

I scrambled up but my legs couldn’t stay together, my ankles felt broken and it pained me to apply any pressure unto them. The brown stains on the legs of my pants could have only been dried up blood. How long was I knocked out? The shoebox window of my cell let in so little light that it was difficult to guess the time.

“Help, help, HHHHHH-EEEEEEE-LLLLLL-PPPPPP,” I screamed out… but no one, no one came!

I felt a sharp pain near the base of my back as I wiggled in an effort to stand up. I moved my right hand to the spot only to feel a baton wedged inside me. It was up my anus. Someone had shoved the piece of stick up my ass. I continued to cry out for help but not even a mouse stirred. Nobody came!

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” I cried as I dislodged the baton, pulling it out with as much force as I could muster. I couldn’t even watch it after; I just threw the club against the bars. It rang out loudly. Still nobody came, nobody at all. I rolled over now, my face inches away from a pool of water and blood. It smelled of urine too. I used the little strength that I could gather to pull myself unto the cot and throw myself in the middle. I fell right through it. Someone had made a cut right down the centre of it. I was stuck again but this time I decided to just close my eyes and let it be. I would die right there if that was my punishment, I was ready to die.

The End.

The Kiss

The Kiss
By Delroy Nesta Williams

She took one lick of her ice cream and I knew that I wanted those lips against mine. It was cherry vanilla. The dim light of the lamp post and the short rain shower that had just subsided meant that we were alone on Old Street under one of the huge verandas that had made Roseau famous. The French-influenced architecture was all around and provided temporary shelter from the short shower, but it was the furthest thing from my mind. There were beads of rain drops on her forehead and cheeks, her hair partially covered her visage but I was still able to look her straight into her eyes. They were hazel, complimenting her skin color. She looked at me, smiled and those dimples of hers just made a small cry to me. She wanted me, her eyes also told the story. I touched her left hand, held her fingers between mine and pulled her towards me. I could feel her heart racing, even more than mine. Her lips were still covered in the cold ice cream as I leaned in and touched the corners of her mouth whipping off a spot. I licked my finger.

"You can have the real thing," she said

"The ice cream?" I teased.

"If that’s what you really want," she responded.

"If that’s what you’re giving me," I nervously quipped realizing now that I was on the brink of that first kiss.

She leaned in and for a moment my mind took a journey back to our very first encounter. Who would have thought that the brief two-minute meeting of nearly three years ago would have led to this instant?

Annie, her sister had introduced us during one of our brief mid-town meetings. Annie was the coworker of my ex-girlfriend Crystal and often teased me about getting back with her. Her relentless teasing had morphed into a friendship, one that would prove very tricky but beneficial. On one of those afternoon encounters, Sophie was with her. I didn't pay her any mind at first but during those two quick minutes Sophie did something that would remain with me for a while. I didn't even figure it out at the time but I did recognize it the next time we met. In fact, I recognized it from a photo I had seen of her. She was the girl that I had always wanted to be with but was never lucky enough to encounter. I had often found myself in affairs with needy young women, needy of my money, my time and that usually turned me off. For one, I didn't have much money and secondly I was a busy-bodied person. My free time was spent traveling around the island or freelancing overseas.

I was so busy that my last relationship was based on a Facebook encounter, which coincidentally would be where I came across Sophie again. It just happened one day while I was bored at my office. I logged onto Facebook and there she was, ForeverFabulous, her profile name. Her profile picture stared me right in the face, her eyes fixed on mine or maybe it was mine fixed on hers. I can’t remember those details. That's when I realized that I needed to have her, right then and there. She jumped off the page and appealed to me. It was sexual but it was also a lot more. She stood in her living room, in a green and yellow bikini. That confidence called out my name. It was like she was saying "I'm sexy, I know it but you still can't have me. Eat your heart out."

I was determined to prove her wrong. I had a knack for defying the odds. I had to do it this time as well. I would get her. Yes, she would be mine. So I sent a desperate friend request and I got back an immediate acceptance. It was on and popping. I didn’t say anything to her at first, I just sent a poke. The attention-seeking poke. I got no response so it was back to the drawing board, plan B. I sent a solitary “hi” to her inbox, still no response. It was time that I made her feel my presence on Facebook, I would not be ignored. It was time to go through her photo albums. I would like every one, except those that looked like she was with her boyfriend or some male companion. That would be a clear signal to her; that should work. It didn’t – nothing, not even after two weeks of “stalking” her profile.

I was going to do the desperate thing next but her sister saved me the trouble. Just as I was contemplating sending her a timeline message about my desperate need for her, Annie tagged Sophie in a status. She responded so I joined in the conversation too. Pretty smart, if I might say so myself. She wouldn’t ignore my comments after all, they were general and discreet but I made it evident that I was trying to get her attention. I sent her a private message at the same time. Bingo, she replied although not the response I wanted:

            “Please, leave me alone, I don’t want a man and I’m not interested in you,”

            “I’m not trying to be your man!” I replied defiantly.

            “So why are you bothering me then?”

            “Oh, so you’ve noticed?”

            “Yes, so now stop it please!”

            “I’m sorry but I can’t stop,”

            “Well then, I will have to stop you!”

And with that she signed out on me. I felt cold, defeated and fearful. What would she do? I signed out immediately too, I didn’t want to know. I stayed off from Facebook for a few days but when I went back, there was nothing.

I would not be daunted by this first act of rejection so I sent her another message. She responded:

            “Persistent?”

            “Very,” I replied.

            “I like that,”

            “Is that all that you like?” I asked.

            “There are other things,”

            “Can I find out?”

            “Can you?” she quipped.

            “I can!” I confirmed.

She responded with a smiley face. I was in. I found out that she lived in Goodwill with her mom and brothers. She was still in a relationship but it was on a rocky road, and although she had a son with her boyfriend at the time I thought I could work my way around that. Just a minor detail I thought if she was going to be mine. I wouldn’t try to break up her relationship but I would still make my move.

Over the next few months we would talk on and off on the phone. I also saw her a few times in Roseau while I was running errands for work. I visited her workplace every time I could, even if it meant spending just two or three minutes. I would always make sure I made her smile before I left, giving her something to think about after my departure. I had hoped she thought about me after my brief visits. Thoughts of my friend zone situation with Miss George would often cloud my mind and get me depressed but I was determined not to fall to the trappings of any other young lady looking for mere friendship. “You’re everything I want in a man, but nothing I am looking for in a lover,” she had told me, the final dagger in my coffin. It took me years to get over her but I had managed, although I still suffered from temporary lapses and bouts of depression. She was the last girl that I would attempt to give my love, there was no more love in me to give.

But Sophie was different, we talked often about meeting up to spend some real time together and our conversations had crossed the friendship barrier a long time ago, but she always kept brushing me off with some reason or another. I never complained though, even if it killed me inside because I had already made my intentions clear to her so many times; I wanted her and I would be as patient as I could, as patient as I needed to be to get her into my arms, even for a fleeting moment. I wanted her if it meant I was the sidekick, just a scratch-my-back-when-it-itches type of situation or the main squeeze but I couldn’t stay in the friend zone for too long. I had suffered in the friend zone too many times in the past; I didn’t want any more female friends. Maybe I was too direct but it was better than being uncertain.

Kellyne, one of the few female friends that I had allowed to get close to me had invited me to the Windsor Park Sports Stadium to watch the Dominica National Football Team receive a pounding at the hands of their neighbor, St. Lucia. I had always liked her company; she was one of the ladies who would get other young ladies to take notice of me. She didn’t mind that, she wasn’t interested in me in any way but she drew attention to me and Dominican women tended to gravitate to men who were already taken, so I played the role. I held her hands while walking up the stand, giving her small nudges while we sat next to each other. I even left my seat to get her popcorn and soda. I fed her the popcorn, we laughed and laughed loudly. Kellyne was the perfect attractant so I played the boyfriend role and it felt good.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, surprising me so much that it caused me to shift in my seat.

“So that’s your girlfriend?” the anonymous text asked.

“Yes!” I replied, lying but playing along to see where this was heading.

           

“Okay,”

“Just okay?”

“I thought you were single,”

“Is that a problem?”I deflected.

“No it isn’t!”

“btw, who is this?”

“lol, now you’re asking?”

“Yes, now you got my interest”

“I’m just behind you, a few rows, in yellow,”

And with that I turned around slightly to see Sophie with a sly smile on her face. She had this yellow flowered summer dress that hugged her body. Not the type of outfit that I expected her to wear but she showed it off very well. There was no one sitting next to her though, strangely.

           

            “Are you alone?” I asked.

            “Yes,” she responded.

            “Where’s your boyfriend?”

            “He doesn’t like football and he lives far!”

That was the opportunity I needed but Kellyne was with me.  Kellyne wasn’t paying any mind to my text messaging as she was embroiled in the game. She was one of the few females that I knew who could understand football but she was a Manchester United fan and that point of contention was enough to turn me off. Manchester United was my sworn enemy. Kellyne knew it too and rubbed it in every time she got a chance, especially since my beloved Arsenal were yet to win a trophy in eight years.

           

            “So what are you doing after?” I messaged Sophie.

           

            “I’m not sure… head home, I guess,”

            “Right away?” I asked, a little disappointed as I turned my head towards her again. She was staring in my direction, right at me to. She smiled when she received my message.

            “Yes… you have plans for me?”

            “I was hoping we could spend some time together,”

            “But you have company,”

            “Let me worry about my company, just make sure you’re company later,”

            “Yes sir!” she replied

            “Meet me by I-Roc around 8,”

           

            “Cool,”

            “Nice,” I replied, turning my attention back to the game and Kellyne. Suddenly I found myself nervously excited, fidgeting with my phone and keys. I couldn’t think straight as I was already imagining Sophie in my arms.

I-Roc was locked by the time she met me there, almost an hour later than we had planned. I was just beginning to walk away when she called my phone. The Arch wasn’t the safest place to be alone at that hour. A vagrant had made the gazebo his bedroom, as he clumped away in a corner trying to keep himself warm even with a very cold river breeze to his back. I was shivering although I wore my hooded sweater so it amazed me how he looked so at home in rags on the cold concrete floor while at the mercy of the river. He actually snored quite loudly even without a comforter or pillow.

Sophie gave me a tight squeeze, so tight that I didn’t even feel like letting go. Her nipples pierced through her dress; either as a result of the cold weather or she was really excited to see me. I closed my eyes briefly to imagine my fingers running over her plump breasts and my tongue massaging her nipples. I was trying to hide my anticipation but my eyes were a dead giveaway.

            “Let’s get out of here!” I ordered.

           

            “Where are we going?” she asked.

            “You want ice cream?” I hit back, my voice trailing as I pulled her by the arm. I didn’t even wait for an answer. I wanted to show my decisiveness tonight. It was a part of my plan. As we strolled towards Island Ice Cream I couldn’t help but think about Kellyne. Although I was having this very overtly sexual conversation with Sophie my mind drifted to Kellyne, I had left her immediately after the game. The poor girl thought I was going to check on my mom who suddenly developed chest pains. I had text Nigel, one of my “bomb tags” and told him to call me back but remain silent on the other end of the line. I pretended to be talking to my sister and was reacting to her news about my mother’s pain. Kellyne was very sympathetic and even suggested to drive me to my mom’s house but I declined her assistance. I told her I needed to walk, needed to think and clear my mind before I became too emotional in front of my mother. The truth is that I wanted to rush off to meet Sophie. Now that I was with Sophie, I was thinking of Kellyne though. I snapped back to reality, and nudged Sophie a bit to let her know that I was still there with her. She smiled and pushed back at me but I was expecting it. I grabbed her by the arms and pulled her next to me.

            “It’s about time I hold you in my arms, I could get used to this,” I said.

            “Me too, I like the feel of being in your arms,”

            “I don’t want to let you go,”

            “What about my ice cream?” she reminded.

            “Oh yes, the ice cream,” I repeated.

I continued walking shoulder to shoulder with her, my hand brushing against hers, every now and then holding it for a few seconds, just to keep some form of contact. She didn’t mind, she was actually more open and more unperturbed than I would have thought.

            “So what flavor ice cream do you want?” I asked upon entering into the shop.

            “I want whatever it is that you get me,”

That sounded so suggestive that it caused me to stumble on the tiles. I grabbed one of the pillars to steady myself as Sophie pretended not to notice. The shop was filled with parents and their children so we ventured unto a small wooden bench just behind everyone else to wait our turn.

            “I want to tell you a secret,” I said

            “Tell me!” she ordered

            “In your ear,” I responded as I leaned towards her.

She leaned towards me as I placed a soft bite just on her ear lobes. She hissed but didn’t make awkward or rash movements to draw the attention of the crowd.

            “I should have expected that, I will know better next time,”

            “What else should you expect,”

            “I don’t normally have expectations, so surprise me,”

            “That I can definitely do,” I confirmed  and stepped forward to order the ice cream.

I got her a double scoop of ice cream on a wafer cone and for myself, a bag of M&M’s.

Sophie’s lips touched mine and although they were cold, a bolt of electricity shot across her body into mine. Her lips were so soft and moist and as I caressed her tongue with mine I brought my hands to her cheeks, holding her head in place to savour the moment. I lay soft bites on her lips and ran my fingers to the back of her neck. She jerked forward slightly and her pelvis slanted right into my crotch. I was fully erect and she knew it. She rubbed against me letting out some soft moans as I lowered my hands down her back and grabbed her ass. She dropped the rest of the ice cream cone and pushed her hands under my sweater and vest to dig into my flesh. Her cold nails caused my back to arch. She smiled and let out a lowly giggle under her breath. I slightly pushed her in between two vendor’s stalls and pinned her against the wall. I started to thrust my waist into her, grinding between her thighs. Her moans were getting louder. I lifted her dress, lowered her panties and squeezed her bare ass with my hands. I wanted to have her there and then. I pulled her even closer towards me, now nibbling on the back of her neck as she ran her nails up and now my back, it felt like she wanted to tear my flesh from the bones. I wriggled myself in such a way that my pants were beginning to fall to my ankles and lifted her left leg. She didn’t stop me. At that very moment a car whizzed past us, splashing a pothole filled with dirty water in our direction. That must have woken Sophie from her sexual daze and she jumped from my grasp and pulled up her panties.

            “Stop, stop, we have to stop,” she cried out.

            “Okay, okay,” I replied still a little dumbfounded myself.

            “I shouldn’t even be here, I am not a cheater, I am not a cheater,” she kept on repeating.

            “Let me take you home then,” I said, hoping that I would get the chance to redeem myself on the way to her house.

            “No, no… I can make it on my own,” she replied, as she dashed away from me.

I tried to chase her forgetting that my pants were down to my ankles and fell, my arms just saving me from the gutter's muddy water. I pulled myself up, put on my pants as quickly as I could and ran in the direction that Sophie had taken. I took the corner and ran up Great Marlborough Street but Sophie was speeding away already, almost out of sight. I didn’t want to chase her any further to create any scene so I stopped, calmed myself and walked home.

I hadn’t walked for five minutes when I noticed a white Toyota Corolla pull up in the area, about thirty meters ahead of me. Out walked Kellyne and this well-built man. I stopped and looked on, making sure though that I wasn’t seen. He opened the door and they went upstairs. The door locked behind them. I walked towards the door, listened against it and suddenly found myself stooping down at the base of the step. Tears streamed down my eyes.

            “I love Kellyne,” I whispered, “I love Kellyne.”