2. See Sea Saw
4.
I need to be helped to my room. This is one of the things I am not used to yet, may not have time to get used to. A nice young man...I hear my grandmother's voice saying that, I am not ready to be her...a man who is handsome as the hour before sunset, who is dressed nicely enough to make me smile moves efficiently and with dignity to move my burdens into my room. I hand him a tip big enough that his wife will be happy, not big enough to get his daughter back into school. He opens the slats, lifts my suitcase onto the luggage stand, asks me how I like my air conditioning and turns the vent to blow on the foot of the bed.
They have renovated the hotel since I was here last, before the hurricane that took off the roof. Tommy and I toasted breadfruit slices in the gas burner and ate it with brie. I'll bet the only other person on earth eating this breakfast today is Marlon Brando, I said.
Maybe I shouldn't have come alone. I sit on the edge of the bed and burst into tears.
silver raft
(c) 2005 Beautiful Dreamers
5.
I can see through the slats to the man in uniform with a holstered gun standing at the guard stand by the gate. Before the hurricane the Jennifer Court wasn't grand enough for the guard to carry a gun, and the uniform worn by the gatekeeper, who mostly kept the kids with ganja from coming in the front way, was defined by being khaki, not by starch and epaullettes. I can see the dusty street outside and raggedy kids kicking a ball in a field a block away. Well, I can't tell, maybe not raggedy. At this distance they may all be in school uniforms with new Nikes for all I can tell. I can see the retreating back of a white habit, the telltale blue stripe of a Terry enough for me to imagine the photo of the saintly Mother T around her neck. Brown, that was the guard's name. I wonder if it is still Brown.
My eyes follow the boys, the sister, Brown, and forget to tear up. It is like fixing on the horizon to beat back seasickness. The room smells like burning, I think, before I realize it is an aura and I lie back and brace for the seizure.
dapple
(c) 2005 Beautiful Dreamers
6.
The nice young man knows Brown. Brown went back north and has a business with roots and teas. He'll tell him I am coming and Brown will visit me. No visitors I say. Don't worry, the nice young man says. Brown will come see you. He has returned while I was riding my fizzy silver magic surfboard and apparently took off my shoes and put my glasses on a table and generally loosened what was tight and tightened what was loose and placed me on a safe liferaft in the middle of the black sea. I know it is a black sea because of the waves that are less than black, they are black holes and when I look at them all the light in my eyes is trapped and spins dizzily down. They push at my fizzy dizzy busy silver patch of safety. The nice young man is holding my hand. His fingers feels warm and tough. So kind. So I come back again and we talk about Brown again.
7.
She was talking about Carmen, Alexander the niceyoungman tells Carroll the guardwiththegun. Remember Carmen, Tianna's sister who had to go home after Hurricane Farnum? She says Carmen always left mangos in her room for her. She thought it might be mango season but I told her it was too soon. Soon come I said. Soon come too gone, she said.
I need to be helped to my room. This is one of the things I am not used to yet, may not have time to get used to. A nice young man...I hear my grandmother's voice saying that, I am not ready to be her...a man who is handsome as the hour before sunset, who is dressed nicely enough to make me smile moves efficiently and with dignity to move my burdens into my room. I hand him a tip big enough that his wife will be happy, not big enough to get his daughter back into school. He opens the slats, lifts my suitcase onto the luggage stand, asks me how I like my air conditioning and turns the vent to blow on the foot of the bed.
They have renovated the hotel since I was here last, before the hurricane that took off the roof. Tommy and I toasted breadfruit slices in the gas burner and ate it with brie. I'll bet the only other person on earth eating this breakfast today is Marlon Brando, I said.
Maybe I shouldn't have come alone. I sit on the edge of the bed and burst into tears.
silver raft
(c) 2005 Beautiful Dreamers
5.
I can see through the slats to the man in uniform with a holstered gun standing at the guard stand by the gate. Before the hurricane the Jennifer Court wasn't grand enough for the guard to carry a gun, and the uniform worn by the gatekeeper, who mostly kept the kids with ganja from coming in the front way, was defined by being khaki, not by starch and epaullettes. I can see the dusty street outside and raggedy kids kicking a ball in a field a block away. Well, I can't tell, maybe not raggedy. At this distance they may all be in school uniforms with new Nikes for all I can tell. I can see the retreating back of a white habit, the telltale blue stripe of a Terry enough for me to imagine the photo of the saintly Mother T around her neck. Brown, that was the guard's name. I wonder if it is still Brown.
My eyes follow the boys, the sister, Brown, and forget to tear up. It is like fixing on the horizon to beat back seasickness. The room smells like burning, I think, before I realize it is an aura and I lie back and brace for the seizure.
dapple
(c) 2005 Beautiful Dreamers
6.
The nice young man knows Brown. Brown went back north and has a business with roots and teas. He'll tell him I am coming and Brown will visit me. No visitors I say. Don't worry, the nice young man says. Brown will come see you. He has returned while I was riding my fizzy silver magic surfboard and apparently took off my shoes and put my glasses on a table and generally loosened what was tight and tightened what was loose and placed me on a safe liferaft in the middle of the black sea. I know it is a black sea because of the waves that are less than black, they are black holes and when I look at them all the light in my eyes is trapped and spins dizzily down. They push at my fizzy dizzy busy silver patch of safety. The nice young man is holding my hand. His fingers feels warm and tough. So kind. So I come back again and we talk about Brown again.
7.
She was talking about Carmen, Alexander the niceyoungman tells Carroll the guardwiththegun. Remember Carmen, Tianna's sister who had to go home after Hurricane Farnum? She says Carmen always left mangos in her room for her. She thought it might be mango season but I told her it was too soon. Soon come I said. Soon come too gone, she said.
posted by Dr K at 4:47 PM
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