The Heart of Revenge (18 page)

“Uh... Uh.” kicked, blinked a thousand times,
“Uh.” he couldn’t breathe, squeezing his chest. Mi bawl out,

“Nooo ... Vaaance, Vance. No! Noooo!”

His hands fell from his heart. Screams of
pain flooded inside the church. There were unconscious bodies
laying all over the church’s floor. Five bodies on the floor if you
count. I heard another loud fall.

‘DOOP! DOOP!’

I dropped the machete from my hand at the
sound. I hoped it wasn’t anyone hitting the floor again. Snapped my
head around, my head thrown out of thinking straight, fright
crawling in my belly and up to my heart. I looked in the direction
of the pulpit where I heard the sound, in my heart I was clasping
my hands and closing my eyes, praying it was the pastor who called
me the devil. It wasn’t the pastor. My eyes opened as wide as my
mouth when I saw it was Aubrea. She fainted, slamming the side of
her head into the tough edge of the pulpit floor. Her head was not
bleeding, but it had a long swelling at the side of her eye, even
though mi can’t stand Aubrea, mi hope that it was just a cocoa and
not internal bleeding. Six bodies were on the floor.

Mr. Douglas held his phone in place at his
ears with his shoulder as he lifted Qwan off the floor and carried
him out of the church.

Vance baffled to speak,

“Mi... heart” gasped weakly and even his
gasped seemed interrupted by not having enough strength, “Mi hea—”
Then he couldn’t speak another syllable. His lips moved, trembled,
no words came out his mouth, only spit and frothing at the corner
of his mouth closest to the floor, and there on the floor his spit
leaked. It formed a a small watery spit puddle by his unconscious
head.

No one made a move around him. I dropped to
the floor, felt his chest, his heart, it wasn’t beating, no
heartbeat. I didn’t wipe his spit and froth before I performed
mouth to mouth resuscitation on him. I tried. I tried. I tried. Oh
God I tried. Pumped his chest, pinched his nose, blew air into his
lungs. Pumped his chest, blew. Blew, blew, blew. With all my might
I blew. It wasn’t helping. His heart already stopped. My tears
came. Washed down my cheeks. His eyes were still looking beyond the
ceiling, still opened, looking at God. Looking at death. Dying. My
tears falling on his dead chest. I looked to the ceiling, cried
out,

"Why Lord? Why? Oh Lord why? Please.”

I was too weak to stand. Crying, crying,
crying till I couldn’t see anyone, just water in my eyes. Please
God. Please. Pleeease.

Nothing we could do to save him. His eyes
opened. Dying. Gone.

by: Leelia Lexings

My wedding day was like a bad episode out of
Gossip Girls. I was crying, shaking, hunched up, sucking on my
thumb in Gloe’s room. Her room was a little bigger than a closet,
barely had elbow space. I was tearing up inside. The door closed
and the windows shut. The room dark and I am all alone sobbing.

(((Rrring. Rrring)))

(((Rrring. Rrring)))

I was too shaken to pick up my cell. I only
wanted to speak to God, not a soul else. My chest, my head and my
eyelashes hurt from crying. Instead of helping Vance, I blew his
only chance he would ever have at saving his life. I didn't know
what I would say to Vance tomorrow, didn’t know how I would ever
face him again, or Qwan. I had no idea where Nathan’s girlfriend
came from. But I was sure she must have preached disgraceful
inequities about me, to the entire congregation, all my family,
friends, to Qwan, to Qwan’s friends and she didn’t know my
circumstances, but she was going to judge me right? And talk all
manner of crap about me. They all at the church now just sitting
and chatting shit about me, I can bet. I tried not to let it get to
me. I was so sorry Vance, I’m so sorry Qwan. Maybe I should call
Vance now. Later I would. I just wanted to cool off for the rest of
the day. My head was splitting. My heart felt heavy. I looked at my
phone ringing, it was Pinky. I didn’t answer.

Not now.

by: Pinky

Mi hate hospital bad. If death had a scent it
would smell like hospital. If that smell had a taste it would taste
like the yellow fester-poss being squeezed into your mouth from
some old sore of a rottening foot. The scent of disinfectant,
medicine, raw open cuts and stale sores make me want to fill my
mouth with my own vomit.

Vance was unconscious on a hospital mattress
that was as thick as a BNS credit card. The shiny aluminium base
has four wheels. The white pillow cases seem white straight through
but it’s the white sheet spread that’s getting to me. It has a pale
brown spot that just freaks me out looking at it. It just says
death. Makes mi wonder who died in this bed? Did they make that
spot? How many died in this bed? Mi can’t get rid of thoughts like
these whenever mi inside one hospital. The last time mi get one
asthma attack, mi ask Daddy to carry my own sheet. Mi think ’bout
death and mi heart start behave bad, get weak to know my brother
battling for his life in the said bed.

Whether or not mi did lick Nathan’s galfriend
in her face and mash down Nathan, Vance heart would still attack
him. It was just its time to attack him. It’s God’s works. It was
all written in black ink in God’s book of life. Anything the big
man write in that big hardcover book is destiny, must come to pass,
and we little earthlings can’t do jack to change what the Lord
ordains. We can’t rub out what God had written and we can’t change
the date. If it’s written, it’s written, mi never give Vance a bad
heart. Mi can’t manufacture heart and if mi could make hearts, mi
wouldn’t give Vance or anybody in my family a heart that’s working
bad. I would give it to Portia, she love take people man too much.
Is she must get that.

I can’t stand that little dash away belly
gal. Because of she, right now mi fretting and worrying about this
big hell of a dilemma that she made so much worse on mi now. Mi
don’t know what to do. Mi wish mi could just done her and nobody
don’t know is me get rid of her. She just come spoil mi fucking
life.

Mi never know a little gal that love go dance
like Portia. And every dance she go, she have to go on her head top
and wine-wine up her skin and just dash-out dash-out like she a
go-go. Even after she did breed for Finaral, and dash away the
baby, she tell the man that is lose she lose the baby. How Finaral
find out now that is lie the gal was telling, was two days after
she dash away the belly, she gone party at dance and dash dashing
out and wine-wine up her little fine self. She end up start bleed,
bleed, bleed and they have to rush with her go down to KPH
(Kingston Public Hospital).

The taxi that bring her go had to take out
his car seats and go wash it out how bad she bleed-bleed up on the
seats. When she go to see the doctor she had to talk up the things
’bout her recent abortion, she couldn’t tell no lie. When Finaral
go find out he left her at the hospital and didn’t pay her hospital
bill. Her two partners in crime, Syreta and Nash make up them money
together, and pay the hospital bill for her.

When she reached home, Finaral pulled his
gun, he shot at her twice. He shot at her nose-bridge and chest. It
caught her ears, taking off a piece and the other ripped though her
shoulder. She was on the floor bleeding. He came over her and gave
her another shot. Shoot her in the chest. The old tough turbit
never dead. She survived and to think that would make her stay a
hundred miles away from Finaral, it’s like she take a set on him.
Mi almost sure she and Finaral start fuck back again. And mi know
she up to something, nobody can’t tell mi nothing.

With all that went down at Lee’s wedding, mi
never did have a choice. Mi couldn’t make the slime bucket diss mi
sister and spoil her wedding, not under my dead body. Mi mind flash
back on Vance. Both his arms had needles in the main veins. The
syringes were hooked up to clear tubes that swirled to the drip.
The drip was hooked up to a slender stand that reminded me of a
mic-stand on four wheels, but this one was in all chrome. When
Vance’s heart sent him folding on the floor, his heart stopped
beating for about six minutes. After not quitting the mouth to
mouth resuscitation, I did get some breathe into him and his heart
beating again. But he had not blinked since.

Everybody’s face in the hospital looked like
zombies, like they already dead, and the walls too. They looked
plain gray and dead. The faces of all the nurses were naked of
smiles. Dad was not the type to cry, his eyes had in tears. His
stance was uneven, easing most of the weight onto his good leg,
holding his black jacket in his hand, his face looking as if he
were at his son’s funeral and the hospital bed he was standing over
was actually the grave that his son was in. Mi feel bad for Daddy.
Mi feel worse for Vance. I stepped closer to Daddy. I felt the
worst about what I did. I held my head down.

Mi try to chase away the worst outcome of
this situation from out my mind.

“Daddy everything will be good, don’t worry
’bout nothing.” I reached for his hand and held it, he looked away
from the grave and looked at me.

“How mi mustn’t fret? This is the second time
this year.”

“Mi know... but still ...” I tried my hardest
to up my spirit and keep positive so I could say positive things to
Daddy, “Don't God bring him through the last time? Don’t Dr. Reid
said him would be dead? Don’t he’s still living?” All these words
just poured out off me without me even thinking about what to say,
it just came naturally, “Leave it to God ... he controls all
things.”

“Yeah ... But .. I don't know,” he shook his
head, “This worse than ever. If he lost two weeks memory the last
time and suffered minor brain damage, what will happen with this
big one?”

“How can you know that this one is worse and
he only here less than an hour now. The last time he was in a coma
for six days, you can’t know the outcome of this so don’t try
predict the worst. Things gonna be crisp man.”

“Dr. Reid said that if he doesn’t get an
ablation treatment done on his heart in less than an hour, he’s
gone for good.”

“Mi don't understand you, what you mean gone
for good?” My anger jerked inside me.

“Gone, gone. Dead.”

Mi couldn’t even talk. Even though mi know
his condition was life and death, I just had it in my head that
everything was going to be good. God won’t let a good person die
young, more over die a virgin. My man is an old murderer and he is
almost twice Vance’s age. I know Vance won’t die but .. but... what
Daddy told me, gave me a bitch lick and frightened the hell out of
me, it’s kind of like walking casually in the street, chatting and
laughing with your close friend and a man screechy up behind you
and fling one, rawtid, river stone and bust your head. That was the
sudden fright and pain I felt. Dad was looking up to the hospital
ceiling as he mouthed,

“All the talk mi talking to Dr. Reid, showing
him that he will get the money, just go ahead and do the surgery,
’cause as soon as we get through to Leelia, he get the money. But
all him keep saying is that him can’t start that surgery without it
being paid for beforehand.”

“Wait there. Stop right there so. Him know
it’s Vance?”

“Then nuh must. Of course him know, his exact
words were ‘I’m sorry Mr. Lexings, I can’t administer any of that
drug or start the surgery before payment, that’s the company’s
policy, can’t break procedures.’ No matter how I pleaded to him he
just kept on repeating like a robot. ‘ I can’t break procedures, I
can’t procedures. I can’t break procedures Mr. Lexings.’.”

“Bet if mi man roll up in here he would run
go do it fast. Or bet if it was his uptown friend son dying he
forget about procedure, procedure,” vexation was wrathing through
my body, I got louder,

“Or if a money people him start operate long
time before him get the first dollar. BUT WE NOT IMPORTANT. DON'T
?”

“Pinky just relax.”

“How much for the operation?”

“Sixty-four thousand.”

“Sixty-four thousand! No ... but look how
much money we spend with dry-up Dr. Reid already ... We ever owe
him a dollar yet ... NO!” My breath got heavy and my voice climbed
higher,

“And my brother must bloodclawt dead, over
sixty-four fucking thousand dollar? After we spend over a million
dollar in here so. And with him same one! And you gone tell me that
my brother going to dead over SIXTY-FOUR THOUSAND DOLLAR!” Mi
wanted to mash up every rass thing in the hospital, “Must Belleview
this ’cause they must fuck mad in here.” Mi hands start squeeze
itself angrily. “Where Dr. Reid?”

Mi start map out the place to see if mi spot
Dr. Reid.

“Where him gone? As a matter of fact ...”

I walked off. Daddy grabbed my hand, the only
one person in the world that can cool me down, the one person who
thought me never let the tail wag the dog. The dog should wag the
tail. He spoke to me firmly,

“Pinky control your temper.” I replied,

“Control mi bomboclawt!” He stared at me with
huge bulb eyes. Yeah I cursed badword to Daddy, so what? It’s not
the first. Mi is mi own big woman. Mi have mi own kids, mi live on
mi own. Mi is an adult. Daddy curse them too. No disrespect because
I love Daddy till the day my bones turn to dust, but right here
now, mi vex till mi couldn’t even control what was coming out my
mouth. Mi try to rivet the situation in his head. “You a idiot? We
spend almost a million dollar here on Vance, Dr. Reid know the
youth and that’s how him gone deal with us?” I yanked my hand out
of Dad’s grip.

“What mi should do? Stand up here so over mi
brother and watch him dead?”

“What you doing won’t solve anything either
Pinky. Don’t?” Mi never answer. He ask again, "Don't?” Mi still
never answer. “What you gone do then? Fight? That’s what you gone
do? That’ll make anything better or worse? Think nuh.”