"Comm check...
Testing, one... two...
Kwes Boaz speaking.
...you a hear me?
Ah. You ever wake up and feel like something's...missing? That's my life. Seven years after. Now I'm back, but nothing's the way I left it. Not even me.
Amnija happened righ...
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"So basically...yuh wah my help fi stalk yuh gyal?" I chuckle, the words rolling off my tongue smooth.
The dawg a find excuse.
"Nooo bredda. A fi a good cause," he makes me laugh at that. "Just check eh' levels nuh. Me nah stalk har fi hurt har. Mi a stalk har fi help har."
"Why yah whisper?"
"Cause eh b a look pan me," he responds. I laugh to myself.
"Man a laughhhh," he beams.
"Ah. Mi o' help yuh track yuh gyal," I finally decide. I could see the man grin and it wasn't even a FaceTime call.
"Respect Bredda Bredda," a happier man yuh cyaaa find.
"And she a nuh gyal...not because me say mi buy the front," his tone drops to a lower level, making me step further down the hallway and hear someone pulling the zinc.
"Kwes," it's Phillip. The work man. He usually comes around 8AM.
I focus on Blem. "So which good girl yuh kno' sell cratches?"
"That me a try find out. Just nuh wah nobody hurt har. Mi waan wif—mi WiFi a drop dwaggggggg," he says instead.
I laugh again, this time Nijaa comes at the door way.
"A wah sweet yuh so?"
"A mi dawg a give me joke," I press the phone back to my ear. She shuts the door softly, going back to whatever she was doing.
"Mi give yuh joke bad man? Mi say mi WiFi a give chubble," he lies.
"Man say him wah wife a muckaz," I shake my head and slide the window. Phillip throws three water crackers in his mouth, and brush off his hand in his cargo pants, then picks up a cold Pepsi.
