Sunday 28 June 2009

Ugly p 29



Weeks passed, Miles didn't return. Strange how you half want them to. Just to prove to yourself they loved you somewhere deep in side. I became sometimes melancholy about the whole thing. I had a child with him. It hurt more to think he never cared about either of us. So many thoughts can go through your head. When Kim was an idea. The idea of one of my kind, a new man, a new hope of moving forward made it so easy to kick him away to make room for something better, something new. But it turned out I was jumping from wild horse to thin air. Now I feel like I am hitting the ground. Hard. Very hard.

I tried not to let it show too much around Kim.

"Ya know, Emma, when ever we brake up with someone good or bad for us it hurts just the same. If they are bad for us, we have the deadly 'whit ifs' and we ask why we weren't good enough to make them right. If they are good we wonder why we weren't better to keep them. It's bollocks either way, luv." Kim said over the breakfast table, which for us, breakfast is at noon. But eggs and chips it is.

"I don't know why you are bring this up, I am over that loser." I lied as I cleared the table.

"That tosser's Freedoms biological father. That leaves a connection, tis harder to break. "

He was right.

"Another tosser will come down the bus route any time here. The world is full of them. Me Gran always told my baby sister 'there is always enough time to wait for the right man, but it is always too soon to settle for the wrong one'."

"Your Gran is wise."

Days passed and I kept playing the words of Kim's grand over in my head over and over. Even when singing too many Janis Joplin songs about men leaving.

Kim made sure I was registers for collage. He made sure I went. He said he would watch Freedom while I took classes.

Eric is getting scarcer nowadays. The boys are staring to get sick, whispers of plague that hits only gay men. The boys who come from New York with the Broadway plays to Boston, some of them have spots on their bodies, get very skinny, and now it starts to spread here. Eric spends time taking care of the boys believing that is Indian magic will spare him.

I saw him in the park on the way back to the flat that afternoon.



"Whoa Eric, have you gained 50 pounds?"

"Blunt as always, sweetheart. That is why I love you."

He looks so drawn. He is not his chipper self.

"what's wrong? Where's me bouncy Tiger?"

"I went to three funerals this week. The boys are dying. They get really skinny, Auschwitz skinny ,before dying. I will have a buffer when my time comes. I have an excuse to eat all the ice cream I want." He is holding back so many tears, I think he is all cried out. It breaks my heart. I start crying. " Ronald Rayguns is office
and his press secretary is joking about it. The gay disease. The preachers use it to preach hate. Don't they know?"

"Don't they know what?" I go to hug him.

He puts up his hands to stop me. "What effects us, effects them. We are humans. We are all humans. Though I wonder about these hate stirrers." He shakes his head." They are not human any more."

I go to hug him again. Again he refuses.

"I can't chance it, not with you and little Freedom. Not with you. Don't they know how many married men come to the truck stops. How many closeted men out there with families. And a woman married to a gay man, you don;t think she wont go get something on the side too? HA! it is only a matter of time before they are all dying too. Baby stay celibate, don't touch anyone, don't use public restrooms, don't get blood, it is tainted, no-one is safe. No-ONE."

My heart is breaking for him. My heart is breaking and he is not there , nothing much behind the eyes, like a soldier in war who has seen too many dead bodies. I don't know what to do.



The walk home was long. I stopped to use the public restroom, freaked out about everything Eric said, what if could be spread this way. I hoovered over the seat. I see the writing on the wall "If AIDS is god's curse on gay men, then lesbians must be the chosen people."

I open the door to to the old Victorian, grab the mail, head upstairs to my flat.

"Hey I'm home!"

I toss the mail on the coffee table. Kim comes out holding Freedom, freshly washed. "Look who's home from school? Tis right, ya mum."

I take Freedom from hm and start giving her butterfly kisses all over her face she giggles little baby girl giggles. "Mail's on the table. what's for lunch?"

Kim didn't answer back, usually I get some sort of answer I have no clue what it is. A curry this a curry that a vandeloo. But silence.

I dress Freedom and put her in her crib with her favorite toys. she makes cooing baby happy noises.

I walk into the living room.

Kim is holding an envelope. "This is it."

"So what are you going to do? This is what you wanted."

"If I don't open it , everything can stay the same. If I open it everything might change."

"No matter what it says, Kimble, we will be friends. That wont change."

"Oh child, I have heard that too many times to ever believe that again."

"I never said it to you." Now I am a little hurt.

"Everything changes, everything. But blood is stronger than water, enit what they say? Nothing can brake that bond."

"It is what you came and sought me out for. Open the damn thing."

He just stares at it for a few more moments.

I grab it from him. "In for a penny, in for a pound. I fear no piece of paper."

I open it quick and look at the many numbers and words that make little scene to me.

Kim smiles like the sun.

"I don't see what si so funny, no-one but a DNA scientist could read this gobbly gook."

HE starts laughing at the. Actually laughed at me.

"I don't know what is so funny! Your MUM should get her money back."

"She don't need to, sis." He gets up and hugs me, "You were looking at the wrong side of the paper. You made me read it first anyway. I see you will definitely be a hand full. "

He put me down. I look on the other side. The results are 99.75 that we shared the same father.

Luke was my father. Kim is my brother.And god sometimes answers prayers.


ugly p28

SKA.

Kim introduced me fully into Ska.



What I just took as a fun beat from some reggae I found was it's own style. Over the last 6 weeks we got to know east other much better. We became like brother and sister. We learned from each other. I taught him the downs of the blues and he brought me up with ska. Between the two of us Freedom heard all sorts of music and had many smiles and laughter to find her peace with.

We often played together in the park, making more than I did alone even after splitting it. He always gave me extra, he said there were two of us and one of him, so I should get more to provide for my baby.



The days seem to stop when first I found him and I was looking for him again. But the days have flown by since he found me. I have come to know him enough that I do trust him to sleep over my flat, much less expensive then the hotel. It is nice to have about the flat again. Listen to me, even borrowing from his talk, he has become so much a part of me. He refuses to let me carry the laundry to the matt. He makes food for us at times. He doesn't invite his friends over. He says "When you have children, you have to take care who to bring into your child's life, you never know who will take advantage. Need to surround children with the best of who you know, so they will strive to be like those you love and admire."

Told him I learned my lesson well. But I never really elaborated. I wanted to forget.

He would sleep on the couch, it was close to the door. I slept well with him there, it was like I had a giant lion guarding the door of the keep, for the two princess inside were precious things who deserved to be guarded by such a powerful beast. He made me feel that way. As if I were special.

Half the time I wished the DNA test comes back as if we were family, half that we were not so I could have him as my man. But always he treated me and Freedom with respect. It was like living with one of the boys.



One night, after coming home from the club we were winding down for the night. Kim went to make some food for us all. A knock came on the door. I went and opened it Miles. Standing there. Oh Crap.

"Hey babe, going to invite me in?"

"NO."

He pushed in anyway.

"You know what ever you got is crap. My mother has a lawyer now. Say goodbye to your brat enjoy the time left. Unless you want to rethink your position on me, I can live here with you while I go to school, that way you can still see the kid. But she will still legally be mine.I guess at that point you will be leaching off me in my place. Once I have custody I can get assistance, just like your lazy ass. And you can start paying me child support, you can start now. "

At this point he had me against the wall One arm between me and the kitchen the other trying to rifle through my clothes looking for money.

"Oi! MATE, what you think ya doing?!" Kim yelled as he ran up to Miles and me.

"Who the hell are you?!" Miles acted so indignant. "You take up with a nigger right after I leave? So THIS is why you wanted me out of the house." He scream back at me like a lover who just found out there was another.

"Out!" in a booming voice Kim pulled him away from me. Kim was slightly taller than Miles but as far as bulk went, the lion won out, Miles looked like a boy compared to Kim.

"Hey, I know you are new to this bitch, but this is my family you are muscling in on. Be a man and walk away." Miles said in that tone that if you didn't agree with him you were not being an adult. But now he is doing it to someone who is older then both of us.

"Bitch, Nigger, man do you know how to talk people." Kim laughed. And pushed Miles away, which made him fall the few steps to the landing and land against the wall. the same wall he landed on when I kicked him months earlier. 'Look mate, you made me laughter, I will give you to the count of three."

"To leave, I get empty threats. It wont work here."

"No empty threat mate, it is just the head start I am giving you before I beat your raciest ass." Kim was still smiling and laughing. "ONE"

"You don't know the games she plays, man" Miles is still not moving.

"TWO"

"BUT I am the FATHER!"

"THREE"

Before he got the whole word out Miles started down the stairs.

Kim ran after. He caught him at the end of the stairs "I don't know what you are, tosser, but I know you are no father!"HE has him by his shirt with both hands.

"You are just upset I used the word nigger. Hey it's not really like that. I was just thrown by you banging my old lady. Hey in another circumstances we could be friends. Let me buy you a a beer at the bar."

"You just don't get it, tosser. I am 'ta bout ta beat you so you will never even think about going near my sister or niece again. DO YOU even know 'er name, tosser? " I had never thought Kim could get so angry.

"Her name is Dani!" Miles said nervously.

"AHT, wrong answer. I meant my niece not my sister, and you didn't even get that name right."

Miles grabs a knife out of his pocket, Kim hold him away from him.

"Not so tough now! I learned to fight in Kentucky, Limey!"

Kim quickly head butts Miles. Miles drops the knife and falls back.



"Sorry, Yank, I learned to fight in the pubs during football night." Kim Smiled and moved Miles out side, where he literally kicked him down the street. I don't know what happened next, but I never saw Miles again that year. Can't really remember how much longer it was before I had to deal with that fool again.

Kim came back about a half hour later.

He had a bit of blood on him. I cleaned him up.

"Ya know sis, you know how to pick 'em. I can see I 'ave my work cut out for me." He wasn't smiling. I stopped. I looked at him.

He grabbed me put me in a head lock, gives me a nudgy. "And I wouldn't have it any other way, my other little sister is too proper, never any excitement, no need for a big brother." Now he is smiling. I get up and finish wash off the blood, but I find no cuts.

I think that was the moment I realized I was hoping to God he was my brother. Silently tears ran down my cheeks.

musical biscuit

SKA

Ska (pronounced /ˈskɑː/, Jamaican [skja]) is a music genre that originated in Jamaica in the late 1950s, and was the precursor to rocksteady and reggae.[1] Ska combined elements of Caribbean mento and calypso with American jazz and rhythm and blues. It is characterized by a walking bass line accented with rhythms on the offbeat.

Music historians typically divide the history of ska into three periods: the original Jamaican scene of the 1960s (First Wave), the English 2 Tone ska revival of the late 1970s (Second Wave) and the third wave ska movement, which started in the 1980s (Third Wave).
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I can think of soemthing else ,other than rowing those rude boys are doing.

Rude boy, rudeboy, rudie, rudi or rudy were common terms for juvenile delinquents and criminals in 1960s Jamaica, and have since been used in other contexts.[1][2] During the late-1970s 2 Tone ska revival in England, the terms rude boy, rude girl and other variations were often used to describe fans of that genre, and this new definition continued to be used in the third wave ska subculture. In the United Kingdom in the 2000s, the terms rude boy and rude girl have become slang which mainly refer to people (largely youths) who are involved in street culture, similar to Gangsta or Badman.



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The first rude boys in the 1960s were associated with the poorer sections of Kingston, Jamaica, where ska, then rocksteady were the most popular forms of music. They dressed in the latest fashions at dancehalls and on the streets. Many of these rude boys started wearing sharp suits, thin ties, and pork pie or Trilby hats; inspired by United States gangster movies, jazz musicians and soul music artists. In that time period, disaffected unemployed Jamaican youths sometimes found temporary employment from sound system operators to disrupt competitors' dances (leading to the term dancehall crasher). This — and other street violence — became an integral part of the rude boy lifestyle, and gave rise to a culture of political gang violence in Jamaica. As the Jamaican diaspora grew in the United Kingdom during the 1960s, rude boy music and fashion, as well as the gang mentality, became a strong influence on the skinhead subculture





Skinheads, originally, come out of the same *working class* culture
as ska. Just look at early Sixties pictures of Bob Marley, Peter Tosh
and Bunny Wailer -- they have no hair! Skinhead culture spread more
widely in the late Sixties as more and more Jamaicans went to the UK
and influenced the White youth culture there. These old UK bald-heads
were rude boys. Yesterday's and today's skinhead fashion has a legacy
from Black Jamaica. Since the first skinheads were trying to look like
shave-head rude boys, it makes all those Nazi skinhead types seem pretty
ignorant, eh? It's a good thing they are in the minority.