CIRCUMSTANCES MADE ME WHAT I AM

GENESIS

MARK'S POV

"Wooiiii oh God. Him nuh duh nutten, why God why?"

The sound of my mother's cries still echo in my head as it did two hours ago. I'm sitting on the back step with my head between my legs, my heart cries instead of my eyes wondering as well...why won't the tears come, but death has become such a norm. With somebody getting killed almost everyday in Denham Town I guess I have become numb to it but still why?

Why was an innocent hard working man...my father gunned down on his way from work? It's a never ending cycle.

A rhetorical question... I'm sitting here asking myself rhetorical questions...sigh

man and man a war over who fi run yah suh or deh suh

But mi fadah did innocent

But nobody inna di ghetto nuh innocent. Society teaches from yuh nuh live uptown, yuh a dutty criminal.

But mi lucky to cause mi jus move from di same spot... suppose mi nevah move...

My father wasn't the type to linger on the corner at the shop near our gate and he always warned to stay away from there unless I was sent to the shop to buy something and come straight back in the yard.

But mi sneak and chill out deh sometimes wid Jerry a bredren from school weh live up a Pink Lane side.

Jerry...how him escape? Only jah know

It was him who si my father coming from up the road so I could move or else.....but what does it matter now cause him dead just suh.

Now my maddah a talk bout mi haffi lef town. A find man fi find whoever kill my fadah and mash dem up back and mi know sooner or later word aguh drop a who...den mi aguh mek my move.

My blood is boiling, it nah guh suh and no pussy nah tek my 3 points just suh either

Di man did innocent

"Mark!!!"
I hear my mother shouting breaking my chain of thought
" yuh nuh hear mi seh fi come pack up".

TRISHA'S POV

It's not gonna be easy but I can't risk it. Twenty years I've known Derrick and we have only one child, Mark.

Now and then mi duh some hair but Derrick always make sure him work an tek care a we.
Mi get pregnant after wi deh fi three years. Him a di only man mi evah deh wid... How we ago manage?

Derrick nuh deserve this kind of death. Him nuh mixup. Him guh work and come home. If him a have a drink a inside di yard him and Mikey him brethren from up di road.

"Mi cah tek dis nuh more!" I say to Mark

"Come mi a sen yuh guh to yuh grandmaddah a Clarendon, at least till yuh finish university. Yuh haffi mek something a yuhself, yuh nah tan yah until yuh dead or tun gunman"

Mi cyah afford fi lose him too.

"Mommy mi nuh know nobody a country, weh yuh mean?"

"How yah guh manage, mi ago need money fi travel...no mi haffi find a wor-"

"Wuk mi Raass which wuk!?"

I rarely curse but sometimes I wonder if him as smart as we make him to be.

"Bwoy yah fi know nobody more dan yuh granny? Look yuh si it look like people can survive here anymore. See it deh yuh fadah a gun man?
NO!!
But si di end result a him deh suh yuh mus know"

I know he's right about the money and the costs but if he stays, this monster of a place has a greater chance of sucking him in and molding him into a menace of society.

Then I'll have to bear the pain of burying him as well. A chance I just won't take.

MARK'S POV

It was a sleepless night even though I was rushed to pack up nobody could move or would dare try to after the horrific events.

It's barely daybreak but me and my mom are on our way downtown. It was the hardest it ever was to get a taxi and we still didn't get a straight drive, so we're now downtown on Darling street to be exact trying to board a bus to May Pen.

The stress is evident on her face, sadness, grief, fear and frustration. We're walking down the street like zombies with most of my life packed into two suitcases.

Everything still feels like a dream. The man I knew as my father and protector is no more just like that.

My mother is in front me on her phone making pick-up arrangements just for me because she's not coming and after the shooting last night the community is tense and Bap Bap a family friend and the bus driver who would usually pick us up early in Denham Town before heading to country when he could, wouldn't venture in this morning. That would be a careless move on his part.

"Bap yuh nuh left out a park yet? Cause me almost reach. Duh nuh lef yet" She pleaded.

Everyone's hush hush about it. We left a ghost town back there usually by daybreak someone would be up and about.

The hustlers never missed their worms and you had to be early for that but nobody ventured out. It's like even the slightest shadow of darkness would get you if you did.

I think the streets know why my father was murdered.

THE STREETS ALWAYS KNOWS...

We reached the bus park and we see Bap Bap's Ductah bones. His appearance tells why he's called what he's called.

Man look like him a walk pon him hands dem. But if you didn't know he was a bus conductor, you'd never guess. Man always dress like he's out for a party on the town.

If he's in a yellow shirt his shoes has to match. Mostly Clarks. Real hot steppah. Our eyes met his and he moved towards us, stopping as he reached us. He looked at me with pity and an inaudible conversation took place between his and my mother's eyes.

"Trish come mek wi move cuz yuh know how di grung set" as he looked around as if making sure nobody heard him.

With both my cases in hand he headed towards the bus.

"Bloodclaaat! A wah inna dem yah man"

he Cursed struggling with the suitcases.
Given the circumstances I still couldn't hold back a small chuckle.

I then gave my mother a hug. No words were exchanged before she left me to journey on my own.

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Upon reaching my destination I saw that May Pen wasn't much different since I last saw it some 4 years ago.

The taxi ride to Thompson town seemed longer than it was, though it could have been the lack of sleep and journeying from so early taking its toll.

Either way a rest under a tree would have been most welcome. Just need some peace, quiet and peace of mind.

Though I seemed cool and collected on the outside, my blood boils within my veins.

And knowing this may go over the haed of many, I take comfort in the fact that the streets know and always knows and one day it will tell, along with who will have hell to pay.

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