Categories
Stories Storyteller

Run skinny run, de bully dem come.

My sister was a teacher at the all boys school I went to. Now the school was a two story concrete building that was shaped like a squared U. I had just finished playing cricket in the grassy middle and was on my way to meet my sister in her classroom. As I was about to go up the stairs I heard her shout, “Andy run!” I stopped and looked up, “What?” I shouted back, “Run!” she shouted, suddenly I he…ard a thump and I was struggling to breath. I turned around and saw the meanest bully in the school, Ricky, that boy was the devil himself. His eyes was red from being in the sun, his hand raised, and before I could react his hand crashed into my chest, I stumbled back just as my sister ran up. Ricky turned and ran off. You see back then teachers were allowed to spank students and guess punished Ricky the bully, yes my sister. After that day it seemed that the word spread, Mrs Charles had a skinny brother with bird legs, as a matter of fact I still have those bird legs, why do you think you all never see me in shorts. I spent a lot of time running from bullies. My skinny ass was not going to get licks everyday. I was the fastest moving stick you ever seen.
Categories
Storyteller

Good morning

Walking with the wind

Categories
Storyteller

Radio

Tonight I do my radio show, lots of talk, music, Reggae, calypso, soca, hip hop, old soul from all over the world. The Rudebuoyz doing ah ting tonight.

Categories
Parts Obeah Storyteller

When Jab Jabs Attack, real bad Ju Ju (From the novel Obeah)

Jab Jabs!” she shouted, as she moved out of the way of one of the devils. The Jab Jabs all had clubs that they swung as they charged. Henry swung his machete at one of the Jab Jabs; the demon looked at him in disbelief, and then looked at his own body. There was a long cut that went from his chest to his waist. Ashes spilled out of him cascading down his legs and onto the ground creating a small mound of ashes at his feet. He looked back up at Henry, then vanished leaving a cloud of ash floating in the air. Out of the corner of her eyes, Akosua saw a Jab Jab coming towards her, his club held over his head. She waited until he was close, sidestepped, and pushed him into a tree. The Jab Jab melted into the tree trunk and an ear splitting crack filled the rock valley as the tree exploded. It hit the ground and the valley shook. The Jab Jabs came in waves, their voices suddenly echoing through the valley, trees shook and swayed, leaves curled as if hiding with fear. “This way!” Donkor shouted as he pushed around Akosua. Akosua and the others followed fighting off Jab Jabs as they went. The jab Jabs disappeared every time they were struck, but more of them appeared out of thin air. They ran until they were at the edge of the jungle looking down to the middle of the mountain top. It was like looking down on a snow covered field. The Jab Jabs were fast approaching and they turned around to confront the wave of demons. Akosua swung her Machete and two Jab Jabs disappeared, she coughed as the air around her became a mist of ashes. Their red tongues stretched out, their red eyes blazing but somehow seemed lifeless. Akosua jumped down onto the white ground and Henry and the warriors followed her.   The mountaintop echoed with crunches as they landed on the white earth. Kwao hesitated, his back to the Jab Jabs. One of them hurled his body at Kwao and disappeared into him. The boy stumbled forward onto the white ground. He turned and looked at Akosua and stretched his arm out. At first he looked like he was pleading for help, but instead, his expression changed into a menacing stare. Without saying a word he raised his machete and charged at her. Donkor raised his machete just as Kwao brought his down. The sound of metal against metal echoed loudly. Kwao raised his machete again and Donkor stepped back and blocked Kwao’s swing with his machete. Donkor stumbled back leaving Akosua exposed to Kwao’s attack. The boy lunged at Akosua, ash exploded from his mouth. Akosua looked into his eyes it was turning red. His tongue was stretched out; it was slowly changing from pink to red. The change started from the tip of his tongue, and soon his whole mouth was red. Slowly, he began to turn an ashy colour, the change going up his arm to his body. Akosua prepared herself for his charge, but before he got to her Adofo had wrapped his arm around Kwao from behind. Kwao struggled, his eyes completely red, his tongue had turned into blood red and the upper half of his body was ash coloured. He continued to struggled and almost escaped Adofo’s hold, but Donkor had rushed over and grabbed him. Suddenly his whole body jerked and he leaned forward and threw up violently. Grey bile spilled out of his mouth, and the white ground melted as the grey liquid landed on it. Kwao staggered and stumbled backwards as Adofo and Donkor struggled to hold him up. Akosua walked up to him, the bile bubbled on the white ground fizzed, then disappeared. Akosua touched his face and he opened his eyes. She reached into her sack and pulled her Aron. She shook it over Kwao’s head, its sound echoed with the sound of the wind in the trees. Slowly, Kwao began to look like himself again. The red in his eyes dissolved, as puffs of ash floated out of them. His tongue returned to a healthy pink hue as he coughed out ash. The skin on his arm moved as if the ash was rolling around right under it. It trailed down his arm then escaped through the tips of his fingers in small puffs of ash.. He straightened up and looked around. “What happened?” he asked, Akosua put her Aron back in the sack. “You were possessed by the Jab Jab,” she said. She turned and looked at the others; they were all facing the Jab Jabs anticipating an attack. The demons stood, as if stopped by an invincible wall, their red eyes wild, and their tongues hanging out of their mouths.

Categories
Parts Dirty Immigrant Storyteller

What did that homeboy call me?

We got to the dorm, and a young man of African decent came up and held his arm up, not the usual handshake I was used to.  He smiled and promptly said,
“What’s up dawg?”  I stopped for a second, did I imagine it or did this fool just call me a dog? Believe me, there was no brotherly love for him at that moment. He was short, no more th…an five foot seven, and I wondered how this little man could be a ball player. He was a little confused when I did not shake his hand, but hey, this fella just called me a bloody dog. Anyway, I was guided into my dorm room and I swear that room was made for little people. It was so damn small I could stretch my arms out and touch the bloody walls.  There was a bunk bed on one side, and with one glance I knew I would be sleeping with my feet hanging off the end, maybe five, or so inches.
  The next day I woke up around five o clock, normal for me, and looked outside. The sun was bright, and the sunshine was almost like home. I thought, good weather for a run. So I went back to my room, put on shorts and a t-shirt, hell, I was going to enjoy a nice before breakfast. I stepped outside and immediately my skin felt like god and the devil was having a tug of war match. Then, a sensation like needles pricking me ran through my body. I turned and walked like a mummy back to the room and stood in front of the heater thawing out my frozen tropical joints. Being that cold was not natural, someone had to piss off God for him to create this kind of torture, to tell you the truth, twenty years later, and I am still defrosting from that first morning.
That night, I got calls from women who were on Christmas break. I was surprised, but the other ballplayer explained that basketball was king here and people virtually worshipped the players. I told the women not to call again, you may ask why? Well I did not know who they were, and was not about to let my guard down. Later I wanted to kick myself because some of the women were quite beautiful.

Categories
Storyteller Storyteller's Videos

I am a Dirty Immigrant

Book trailer

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00E91DDE6

Categories
Parts Dirty Immigrant Storyteller

Wash the Black Off

Now something that seems to rear its ugly head in dating around here is racism. I have heard some of the most asinine statements ever. I was talking to a friend of mine. She was white, of course. I was not interested in her although she was pretty. Well, who am I fooling? She was stunning. I was having a conversation with her when she stated that she would never date a black man. I asked her why. She stated that she was raised to believe that interracial dating was wrong.  I told her that was not a good enough response. Hell, she was not making any sense. She then told me that her parents would not approve of it. She further said that she would never disgrace her family by dating a black man. Now here is a woman who was married three times, each to white men. All three treated her less than human and here she was telling me that even if a black man treated her with respect, she still would not date him. One day this same woman confessed to me that she’d had an intimate relationship with a black man a couple of months earlier. She said that after she was done, she went home, ran a really hot bath and stayed in there for five hours. Just to point out, she was not from the Wild and Wonderful City. No, this was someone from the City of The Useless Nut. Whatever that brother did must have had a profound effect on her, because she seemed to get overly excited when a brother walked by. She even tried to seduce me by taking a picture of herself and showing me. She was surprised I had no reaction at all.

Categories
Storyteller

Good morning folks,

Hope you woke up feeling like you are riding on a horse with wings.

Categories
Parts Dirty Immigrant Storyteller

Funny Ole Lady (From the novel I am a Dirty Immigrant)

Funny Ole Lady

My mother-in-law had a classic reaction, but before I describe her reaction, let me say that this woman was the most spiritual Christian I ever met. She was one of the few people who sincerely tried to make me feel like I was part of the family. The first time she saw a picture of me, she grabbed her chest and proceeded to perform the best Fred Sanford impersonation an old white woman could do. In my head I heard Red Fox’s raspy voice coming from the little white lady saying, “This is the big one baby.” Two hours later she invited me to their Thanksgiving dinner. That woman loved to hug, which was strange for me because my family was not the hugging type. She would squeeze so hard I felt my bones pop and crack. She had long gray hair that came to her waist, dark eyes and she was constantly telling stories about her life. The first night I slept at her house, she did something that scared me shitless. It was about 4am and I was fast asleep when I heard the wooden floor creak, so I opened my eyes. Her silhouette floated into the room and stopped at the foot of the bed, her long hair swaying gently as she stood. I tensed up; hell, I was ready to be whacked over the head. After a few seconds, she squeezed my toes, turned and walked out of the room. Later my ex-wife told me that that was something she did. It was a loving gesture, and whenever I stayed at her house, I would be woken by the creaking of the floor as she came in to squeeze our toes.

I had many confusing conversations with her mother because of the vast difference in accents. She once told her daughter that I was crazy because apparently instead of saying yes, I said no. I never found out what I was agreeing to, but for the longest while she would ask me questions, then wait to see what my answer would be.  That cheeky old lady was playing with me. I wondered why she was always smiling whenever we had a conversation.  

Categories
Stories Storyteller

A story about evil Ju Ju by my brother Raphael Charles

Sukuya story:  It was that time of the year when my vacation was due, 1999 there about, and I decided to spend the time with Dad in Morne Fendue. When I got to his house he told me that I would have to sleep in another house he rented a little further up the road in Rose Hill. The first night I slept in that house, I had a terrible time, I just couldn’t sleep, something was wrestling with me, I cried out but couldn’t hear myself, I fought and fought whatever it was, it was strong, cold sweat poured from my body, there was a frightening feeling of something evil in the house, I didn’t sleep that night. The next day I spoke to Dad about what I experienced, he just laughed it off telling me it was probably something I had eaten. The same thing happened on the second night, it was only after reciting Psalm 23 that I got some relief. At about 9:00 am, that morning I left the house to go down to the other house where Dad was for bre…akfast, on my way down I met a little old lady, she was sitting in the doorway of a house, she called out to me “good morning sonny, how are you” I stopped and told her that I was doing all right, she then asked me who I was, and I explained to her who my father is and that i was spending some time with him. She then said to me that she and I were related, and she called a number of names to prove what she said. We talked for a while, then I told her I had to leave. As I turned away I heard her say, “Young Man, whenever you go to bed @ night, you must sleep with your underwear wrong side.” I was shocked, how did she know that I slept with or without underwear? It means that she had to be in the house attempting to do her thing with me. Well, I did not take her advise, and for the rest of the time (Two Weeks to be exact) I slept like a baby every night in that house. I never saw that little old lady again, but that experience showed me that the ligaroo and the sukuya were not myths or stories conjured up to frighten little ones, they were real people, going about doing the devils work.