Cool Runnings Storyteller

24th Installment of La Diablesse


I woke up the next morning feeling like I had slept on a concrete floor, I forced meself out of bed and went into the bathroom, today I get to see Jane and I smiled and did a little dance as I walked through the bathroom door. I stood in front of the sink and saw me reflection in the mirror, bloody hell, I looked like a skeleton with eyes man. I opened the faucet and splashed water on me face the cold liquid ran down me skin waking me up and with a spring in me step I began to get ready to go meet Jane.

By the time I had finished taking a shower and got dressed I was feeling much better singing as I walked out of the bathroom. I went downstairs and into the living room and turned on me stereo they were playing one of me favorite Peter Tosh songs, I went into the kitchen singing along to the lyrics. I looked at me watch and saw that it was almost ten o’clock, the sun shined through the window in the kitchen leaving a smoky golden trail from the window to the kitchen counter. I opened the fridge and took out a sapodilla fruit and bit into it, the juice ran through me fingers and dripped onto the floor, I did not stop to clean it up, I mean, who cares? I was going to see Jane. The beat in the song stopped and I stopped with it and when it started back I jumped and twisted me body, yes, life will be like a bed of roses today. I walked out the door and headed to the beach.

Jane was already sitting on the sand waiting for me, she looked up and saw me and that beautiful smile spread cross she face. I tingled all over as she reached out and took me hand, I pulled she up and our bodies bumped and we almost fell over, she laughed she hair twirling round she neck.

“So what do you have planned for today?” she asked looking into me eyes. I beamed staring into she sparkling hazel eyes.

“I know a spot where no one else goes, we can go there and have a nice quiet afternoon” She squeezed me hand sending what felt like small electric shocks through me.

“Are you doing O.K this morning?” she asked looking at me with some


“I am doing much better right now,” I said swinging she hand. She pulled me towards she and kissed me she lips tasting like bubble gum, they were warm and soft and I closed me eyes trying to savour the moment. We came to the dirt road where I was last night and I felt a little uneasy remembering the woman in white.

“Where is this place,” she said jolting me out of that thought.

“You will see, I think you will love it,” we reached the place where the ocean was crashing against the rocks and the blue water disappeared into the sky in the distance. She stopped and looked round, to the left of us was a grassy field the blades almost as tall as she was, the field slanted downwards to a small beach where a flock of birds floated by on the water just below us. Jane let go of me hand and ran down to the beach, the sand here was not as white as on the other beaches it sparkled black and gray and there were more seashells stuck in the grains. I watched she run she hair bouncing from side to side, man, she had some silky hair, she turned round moving backwards.

“Come on.” She shouted and I followed she. She started to sing an old country song by Glen Campbell and I joined in, she stopped and looked at me surprised.

“How do you know that song?” she asked looking at me.

“My parents loved country music, my mom used to sing them to me when I was little,” she smiled and took me hand and began singing again and we walked down the beach sometimes stumbling over the words. She laughed it was melodic sending more tingles through me, man I tell you what, If I tingled anymore me body would have exploded.

We got to the end of the beach, rocks jutted out into the ocean and the water foamed round them creating a kaleidoscope of dark green, dark blue and black. She jumped on to one of the rocks determined to see what was on the other side. I followed her as she jumped into the sea, the water was waist deep and she struggled to go round the rocks, she stopped realizing that there were more rocks on the other side so she turned round and waded back to me. I took she hand and pulled she out of the swirling tide she blue running shorts clung to she upper thigh. She came back onto the beach and I wrapped me arm round she as she giggled and tilted she head back. She body was warm against me like a blanket on a cold day. She wrapped one of she perfectly shaped legs round the back of me leg leaning she body back like a meringue dancer. I placed the palm of me hand on she back so she did not fall over, she hair hung loosely swinging gentle in the breeze. She pulled sheself back up looking into me eyes still giggling and we began to walk back to the field were the grass was dancing in the wind. I found a clear patch in the tall blades where the sand was white and soft and sat down. She sat with she legs drawn up to she chest looking out at the ocean she eyes wide open with amazement.

“You love the ocean don’t you?” I asked.

“Yeah, But I love the mountains too.” Then she began to tell me bout she home, the big mountains and the green landscape ran for miles, the rolling hills that looked like giant waves against the late afternoon skies, snow covered mountains, brown yellow and orange leaves on lawn in the fall, coal miners coming home covered with coal dust, they were hard working people them West Virginians. She told me about the small town where she went to university, the river that separates Ohio from West Virginia and Kentucky the trains that ran through the middle of the town at rush hours. The city was called Huntington, a small town in comparison to the big cities she had been in America. I listened without interrupting, I had been to America before but I had only been to the large cities. A rowboat went by on the mildly choppy sea the fisherman waved at us a big smile on his face. I lay down on me back trying to picture she descriptions in me head, she looked at me she eyes squinting as she spoke.

“What did you study at Cambridge?” she asked

“English with an emphasis on creative writing,” I replied.

“Do you write poetry?” she asked and I sat up’

“Yeah, but I have not written anything in a long time,”

“I would love to read them some day”, she said and I shook me head smiling at she. We looked at each other not saying a word for bout ten seconds then she took me hand in hers and leaned she head on me shoulder. She raised she head back up and was bout to ask me another question when a yellow and blue butterfly swooped out of the grass and landed on she left knee, she let go of me hand and sat staring at it, then slowly stretched she hand out palm up and used she fore finger to brush the butterfly into it. I lay back down watching she hair, it was a mixture of black and dark brown that cascaded in small waves down to the middle of she back, she moaned in disappointment as the butterfly flew off the palm of her hand and disappeared into the grass, I rose up resting all me weight on me left elbow.

“Why don’t you walk into the grass and shake it,” she looked at me a questioning expression on she face.

“Go ahead, you will really enjoy it,” I said and she got up and walked bout ten yards into the field. She shook the grass and butterflies fluttered into the air surrounding she, blue, green, orange multi coloured butterflies made the grass shimmer in the sunlight man you should have heard the squeal of delight as they glided round she tickling she skin, I sat watching I was smiling so much me cheeks began to ach a little. After bout five minutes the butterflies began to settle back into the grass, she walked back to me and sat down giggling, I lay back down on the sand and we sat in silence. She looked back at me and then lay down next to me resting she leg across me body, she reached out with she hand caressing me face and I closed me eyes for a second enjoying the soft touch of she fingers. I opened them again to see she smiling at me then she leaned over and kissed me, ahh yes there was that bubble gum taste again.

We kissed for what seemed like an eternity stopping when we heard giggling. I looked over she shoulder and saw Ken and another boy standing a little way down the beach holding homemade fishing poles.

‘Afternoon Mr. Dickens,” he said with a big old grin on his face.

“Afternoon Ken,” and he and his companion turned and walked away whispering to each other. Jane smiled then looked out to sea.

“I love being around you,” I sat up and looked at she.

“I love being with you too.” She reached over and took me hand leaning she head on me shoulder. We sat, not saying a word, just enjoying being close to each other.

When the sun was almost down and the dark clouds began to hide the view of the sea I suggested that we leave. We walked down the beach holding hands and stepped onto the dirt road. As we passed the place where I saw white figure I became uneasy, Jane looked up at me but said nothing.

We got to the beach in front of her dorm, I took both she hands in mine and pulled she towards me and kissed she. She leaned into me letting go of me hands and wrapping she own round me neck.

“I don’t really want us to part ways here,” I said and she smiled.

“Me neither,” she replied.

“Well, how about you come over to me house and I cook you the best Caribbean dinner you will ever eat on this island,” she laughed and took me hand.

“This better be as good as your kiss,” she said and I laughed, my voice drowning out the sound of a small boat engine going by on the ocean.

We got to me house and I went right for the kitchen while she took to take a tour of the house, I heard she footsteps going upstairs as she walked round stopping to look at one thing or another. She finally came down stairs and walked into the kitchen.

“Was that a picture of your mother on your desk?” she asked. I nodded.

“She is beautiful,”

“I know,” I said smiling from cheek to cheek. She walked over to a stool that sat at the small counter next to the window. We talked as the scent of the food cooking filled the house and into the yard.



An excerpt from work in progess Disorganized Crime

Nelson drove onto a narrow street lined with newly build houses. He stopped in front of one of the houses; it was a brick house with beautiful bay windows, flower pots were on the window sills, baskets of flowers hung along the verandah, African bamboo wind chimes serenaded the early evening, Nelson felt a sudden peacefulness. The big wooden door had a colonial style design to, it just like the mansions he used to walk by in Byumba when he was a child, relics of the once colonial rule. He walked up to the door and rang the bell, a female voice responded telling him to come in.

He entered the house, it was meticulously decorated, and pictures on the walls, soft rusty coloured carpet, and a scent that reminded him of his mother’s rose garden. The hallway leading to the living room was white, he called this her walk of travels, there were pictures of her taken in several different countries Kenya, Zimbabwe, England, China even Tibet.  In every picture, she was always smiling, even when the pictures were of children suffering oppressive conditions. That is why he loved being around her, her constant joy of living was infectious. He walked into the living room, a beige coloured living room suit sat as if untouched, he went into the kitchen, and here too, everything was put in its proper place. In the middle of the room was an island with pots and pans hanging from a rack in the ceiling above it. He went to the fridge, it was the cleanest fridge he had ever seen, he got out a small bottle of orange juice and went back into the living room, she always kept orange juice for whenever he came over. He looked at the chairs and chose to sit in the black lazy boy next to the couch.

                She entered the room and for a second he forgot to breathe.

                “Hi Dianna.” He said smiling, she walked over to him, she moved so gracefully it seemed like she had floated into his arms, she clung to him, her warm body causing chill bumps to cover his body, her hugs always made him feel loved.

                “How have you been? I have not heard from you in a couple of days, why did you not answer your phone?” She said, a look of concern in her eyes, it was not like him not to answer her calls. Nelson did not respond,

                “Is something wrong?” She asked, Nelson looked at her, her golden brown hair moved gently as she spoke, her hazel eyes danced even with that concerned expression,

“Someone tried to kill me the other night,” he said, her expression of concerned deepened, and she reached over and rested her hands on his knees, she knew what he had been through, she had seen it first hand when she was in Rwanda. Nelson tingled all over, she had a way of making him relax, his whole body going limp like he had just came from a massage parlor. He looked at her hands; they were perfect,  like one you may see in a magazine advertising nail polish, or hand lotion, only hers were naturally beautiful, her teal coloured nail polish matched with her purple blouse that swayed gently when she moved

                “You have that look in your eyes; I have not seen that look in twelve years. You did not…….” She said,

                “No I did not kill him, he is very much alive.” Nelson interupted

                “So he escaped?” She asked, Nelson did not answer.

                “I don’t think I should tell you, the less you know the better.” He said looking into her eyes.

                “You should go to the police,” she said Nelson leaned forward.

                “No police, I have to find out who sent him myself, I don’t trust authority you know that.” He said, she took his hand and raised it to her chin,

                “You are not in Rwanda anymore Nelson you can start trusting people now,” she said gentle pressing his hand against her chin,

                “I know I should, but if the rebels sent him, there is nothing the cops here can do, there will be another one and another one, they will not stop until am dead.” He said, she got up and sat in his lap, she would always do that when he was down and it always managed to calm him down. She smelled of roses, her lips curled into a smile, her skin was evenly tanned.  He took a deep breath,          

“I know it’s been a long time, but revenge can be a master motivator, a lot of his supporters are committing atrocities today, I don’t see anyone doing anything to stop them.” He said, she kissed him on the forehead, by the way they are together, many people thought they were a couple, but all that was between them is this intense romantic tension that never seems to pan out.  She got up and walked into the kitchen he watched her walk away, it was not like he did not want to be with her, but he thought it would be unfair to put her through the nightmares and the depression he fought every day. She had come to the refugee camp with her parents to volunteer and they hit it off immediately, they spent countless hours talking and walking around the camp helping as many people as they could. Her parents had helped him escape to London just before the rebels attacked the camp, he had gotten his grammar schooling  finished and attended Oxford university, later she encouraged him to move to America and here he was, sitting in her living room, listening to her shuffle around in the kitchen.

Storyteller Storyteller's Videos

Good morning

No sound needed, just use the imagination.




From the ocean looking, lights bounce off the dark water, like a rainbow exploded against the night sky, like god spit millions of skittles on the island, like natures own parade of the bands on carnival day, making shadows dance against the blue purple skies, each colour as beautiful as a note on a steel drum.

Parts Obeah

Killer Plants

“What is this?” Henry asked as he looked up at the rose bushes. They stood about seven feet tall and their stems were about five feet in diameter. The scent of the rose blossoms permeated the air choking them a little. They were not the only flower that bloomed in the giant flower garden. Hibiscus bushes as tall as the roses stood up, their orange and red blossoms shimmered in the limited sunlight. All kinds of animals mulled around as if hypnotized by the beauty and aroma. Henry reached up and touched one of the rose petals. Drips of water rolled of the pink petal and onto the palm of his hand. He turned to Adofo,

“This is crazy, maybe the evil spirits are playing tricks on us,” he said and looked around confused. Henry left the rose bush and walked ahead turning around as he did,

“Still this is beautiful,” he said, as he closed his eyes and sniffed.

“This seems peaceful let us relax a minute and have lunch,” Adofo said as he looked around cautiously.  Cougars, mongooses, predator and prey moved around aimlessly. Henry heard a rustle next to him and he opened his eyes. The cougar he saw earlier stood looking at him.

“On second thought let’s keep moving,” Adofo said and Henry followed him.

They got to an area where the giant flowers changed species. One had bright red petals that glistened as if it had just rained. It was not tall, but its leaves and its core spread out on the ground in a circle about five feet in diameter. The cougar had followed them and had stepped on the plant. Suddenly the granular hairs on the petals wrapped around the animal. It growled and struggled, but the hairs tightened even more. Its head disappeared into the plant’s leaves then reappeared; its eyes were bulging as the killer plant squeezed its torso. The other animals began to stampede as the cougar roared and fought. Henry stood frozen with fear as the animals began to bump into him.

“Come on run!” Adofo shouted and moved towards Henry. A herd of wild hogs ran by ramming into Adofo. He stumbled backwards and yelled. Henry turned towards where Adofo had fallen. The stampede of animals ran into the jungle, and after the rush, Henry saw that Adofo had gotten to his feet but was leaned up against a tree struggling

“Let go, Adofo screamed. He was entrapped in a plant, his eyes bulging as he struggled. It was bright red and sparkled a little in the light. A small hood like spoon dangled at the tip of its leaves. Adofo was stuck in a funnel like zone of the gigantic leaf.

“Damn possessed bush!” Adofo screamed. The hairs on the leaf were pointed downwards making it hard for him to get his footing. The lower half of the funnel was large enough to swallow Adofo into the plant.  Henry leaped into action and used his machete to cut at the plant’s roots. 

“Hang On!” Henry shouted. Adofo gasped for breath as he slipped further down into the funnel. Henry swung the machete the

“For Christ sake, cut, cut, cut!” Henry screamed. Finally, the plant went limp, and the funnel flopped to the ground, and the hairs wilted immediately. Henry cut Adofo out of the thick leaf. Adofo exhaled as he struggled to get air to his lungs. Henry tried to pull him up, but his arms were covered with slim. He stopped trying and stood over Adofo as he composed himself. Adofo was finally able to stand up and wiped his eyes, and blew slime from his nose

POEMS Storyteller

Goodbye Note

Sad to say I must go, but in parting, I must leave you with something as beautiful as I would give you early in the morning. A blue rose, for just like a rose you will never lose your
beauty. You will linger in my mind long after the last
word have been written, before the moon graces the sky and after the
sun lights up the world with an angelic smile. For even the rivers will
stop in mid flow and take notice of the median standing on the shores, and
the children will splash about with joy because you smiled and the ocean will
part so you can get to the other side and my heart will refuse to beat
simple because its frozen in that moment forever.


The World in my Head. 1981

I would marry my pencil
The paper will be my groom
The words my constant companion
And I will write a sonnet across the sky
Send a message of love to the world
And all the warring nations will stop
People will love each other
And I will not be considered weak
Just because I am labeled a nice guy
And God will be spiritual not religious
People will understand the difference
Between romance and sex
So women will trust me
When I tell them they are beautiful
Women will not find writing poems corny
Men will check their ego
And express their true feelings
So with pen in hand I will sit on the ocean
Because my finish poem will be my honeymoon
And all my fantasies will be fulfilled
For the world will be a peaceful place

POEMS Storyteller

Comfort a Stranger

She is beautiful but confused, so confused  I feel sorry for her, I know, I should not 

She lay on my floor sobbing, her eyes puffy 
She questions herself, her life 
I was surprised by her outburst 
She seemed so strong until that moment 
I wanted to reach out and hold her  But we were not that close of friends as yet 
She looks at me as if seeking an answer 
I had none, not this suddenly 
I reached over and rubbed her back 
Her eyes pierced into mine searching 
I let her talk, let her free her soul of the pain she had bottled up 
Let the bitter, sweet fog kiss her aching heart 
She speaks, her lips shaking violently 
Tears rolled down her pale cheeks 
I sit and watched, waiting for her to compose herself 
Hoping that life does not destroy this gentle soul 
Hoping that wisdom will arrest this youthful spirit 
I will keep her company until she worries herself to sleep 

Until the darkness mercifully rescues her soul from the brightness of 
the day 

POEMS Storyteller

All These Things

Laugh and hear it echo through the concrete jungle
Dream while I am wide awake
Dance while my feet still touches the ground
For at this moment there is a song in my heart
Thoughts in my head so beautiful words can’t describe
I can run against the wind and feel it brush against my face
Dive into the ocean and breath under water
Walk across the sky and leave my footprints
Talk with the saints and have them cleanse my soul
Walk with a spiritual being in the rain
Climb the trees in the Amazon and breath the fresh air
Dance with myself because I am my best partner
All these things I will do because only I can emancipate myself from reality

POEMS Storyteller

Haunted by Hazels

There you are those beautiful brown eyes alight with life
I am transfixed, my body and mind unable to function
My soul circles above me and now I am a stranger to my spirit
Those eyes can drive a man to his knees repenting
Eyes that can make children dance for joy
A glance that makes you feel like the sun shines only for you
Like the birds that fly across the golden globe
Would stop and pick you up, set you down at her feet
She stands looking at you
Soft brown shields my soul like a pray
And I feel whole again
Like Lazarus from the dead