By EWALT AINSWORTH                              02 14 2014

HAPPY VALENTINE { Love sometimes is a hurting ting and it has to do with the narrative you tell yourself after you hurt or get hurt eh.

Every country, every community and every ethnic minority in North America has to embrace and suck-up and adhere to the prevailing culture of the host  collective.   Dem now-a-days coolie boys beating up black women and shooting they man 16 and 22 times without remorse.   Some GT binnie does have it in their  DNA and DKNY (bag of tricks)  that if you ent beat me you ent love me.

Love for this colony of binnies is a hurting thing;  the more it hurt the more it hurt the more it sweet.  And if you ent beat you ent love me. 

Anyway and everyday Sharon used to prompt she man  to dig-out she red and kick down she back door…She like it so and when she ent get it she like  hurrie pon company  road…jumping jumping.

“Terry and Sharon lived in the scheme for years and every holiday…Valentine and all was beatings first and anything else after.  She migrated before him and when he came was back to basics.

  You just cannot come as a pioneer and do the things you used to do at home and expect to last long;  stranger na know burial ground and if you see man walking on one foot, you have to walk on one foot too.  As soon as the man come was blows.  She hit he and he hit she back and the rest was history.

Terry…a light skinned Indian from Chateau Margot came in the heat of the winter some years ago and teemed up with his girl friend  on Grove street  East Orange.  He worked in the bush and sent money to buy the house.  She rent out all four stories and lived alone in the basement.  She was thrifty and had her head screwed on right but when it come to screwing, she would screw up by picking a fight or two. …Valentine and all.  Sharon christen and welcome the man to the Grove street annex with a butt as soon as he mek attempt to kiss she.  And just in case you do not know Grove street parcels out all the ethnic communities in Essex county.  Every other door hosts a Guyanese either in the basement or the attic…we love extremes.

Coming back to the point Terry touch down late the Saturday almost one furlong behind his girl friend who lived alone for some time.  She cooked for him and helped him unpack and sort out the casareep and sugar cake and tamarind balls et al.  and once everything was squared away, my boy catch up on some spankings.

They ate and he call up some other friends and before he could hang up, house full, kitchen full. Men show up thirsty-thirsty and all the GT rum drink out one time.  The lady had to cook and cook back but she did not mind; she man come.

Next day the same thing…the house full up.  Some friends were known and others were slightly unknown but in the general scheme of things we were all strangers at one time.  Truth be told the stranger in the house was Sharon’s sweetie.  He is of Guyanese parentage but left long.  He claims he from Plaisance and his mother was a health visitor and lived above the health center and as a boy under ten years, he used to walk line and go to Buxton all hours of the day and nite.

East Orange is mecca for Buxton men and in one voice they dismissed him as a concrete liar.  In that era prior to MASHRAMANI coolie people never used to allow black boys to walk thru their communities alone much less at nites.

Terry found his voice and agreed.  This strategy of playing along with his friends from Buxton brought him tremendous dividends…not because of his pioneer status or being a quasi host.

Buxton men in the Oranges get the best jobs and they stick together and in Guyanese parlance, they run things.

Assimilation too for Indians is also very difficult and that is why to occupy their time Indian men doers end up as small time prostitutes, gamblers and computer and car thieves.  But that is a matter for a different arena.

The Sunday sitting continued and ended without further event.  Sharon tidied up and retired and repeat the thing that the doctor ordered for Terry.  Early Monday morning she took off for her live in job.

Poor thing left alone in the polar vortex and so Valentine nite he hooked up with an old friend.  She picked him up after work at 3.00pm and took him to her apartment.  Late that evening the woman took her son’s car and headed for New York and on their way back around midnite, stopped at  LARRY’S LIQUID LOVE.  Guess who Terry would bounce up wid…Sharon and she sweetie.  And he grab she and punch she below the stomach and knee she;  she in turn call the cops and as he Terry leads  she out to continue the real, real, Guyanese cut-ass the police come and tek over.

Sharon tell the police in  less than a tweat…less than 140 WORDS AND AS THEY TOOK HIM DOWN IF YOU SEE SNAT.  Tears coming from he eyes and ears and join up wid he snat from he nose.  The police look back to tell Sharon to make her way to the precinct to file charges but this God is a good god.   The friends and them know Terry just come and how he ent straight and not because he is Indian; he does buy drinks fuh we.  She friends say all kind a bad things about she and siding now with Terry even though the other woman deh pon the one side not picking she teeth.

Sharon was most tickled  and laughing with all she gold teeth-front teeth outside;  as my boy humbled and stumbled and bumbled with snat in he mouth now. The police in his heart saw the fear in Terry and was taken aback with the joy in the heart and face of Sharon and detected that all her marbles were not in the right place.  He probably suspected that before Terry was charged she had to go thru a certain ritual.  The police was right and right there and then loose Terry.

 The police just loose he and tell them both…”when you get serious, call us back”   and gave her a business card.

As soon as the police turn he back, Terry tek over now.  His girlfriend had to get between them.  Sharon advised him to take his clothes and leave.  Up to day like today, they have never seen each other and or spoken but have both confirmed the fact that we-kinda-people does observe Valentine in a different way.  LOVE IS OVERDUE.



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