Love &Reggae

New York was alright. Especially now that Kevin didn't have to hide from his uncle's landlord. Kevin now had a totally different uncle as his own landlord. He was going to get a job soon, he was confident. The few people in the neighborhood that would speak to him were alright. They were his type of people.   Although most of them were immigrants of places Kevin vaguely recalled from his geography classes,  they shared his work ethic, and the belief that if you worked hard enough good things were bound to happen for you.

The building where he lived was on the corner of 192^nd and Linden Blvd. The Haitian, Ghanaian, and Jamaican people he passed as he strolled in the bitter biting cold spoke to one another in ways that sounded like singing to the not quite metropolitan Kevin.

New Orleans had taught him a lot of lessons about life, and about himself. Kevin had only fought as a last resort in his hometown and never out of pure anger. Before he had left New Orleans he had fought in anger. Twice.

 He realized that he had actually been running away when he left his house and moved to the snowy city.

Each day Kevin walked further and further looking for work, any work.  He had just applied at an Ice plant. “Why in the West Fuck, would you sell ice in this cold motherfucker? “ Kevin wondered as he shook his frigid fingers, and blew into his cupped hands. The warehouse manager had seemed under-whelmed with Kevin, so he decided to walk a little bit further. The Western Beef at the corner of Merrick and Farmers seemed to magically appear and he was flooded with a good feeling.

One hour and 36 minutes later Kevin was the diary department’s newest stock clerk. Billy, his uncle was glad to hear his news. He agreed to only charge Kevin $25 a week, so long as Kevin served as his on-site maintenance person.

Kevin, felt vindicated. He had proven again that he could make it anywhere.

 A month later Kevin, was sitting in the bar across the street from his tiny apartment. His shoulder length hair had rebelled against his quick braids one time to many and he was letting the thick inches of ebony shot through with white, do whatever they wanted. He had bought a Mets hat and a matching hoodie from the coliseum a flea market on Jamaica Ave. His hair was pushed haphazardly beneath the hat.

Kevin had brought his co-worker to the bar because the young Dutch Ghanaian was complaining about his life woes and had threatened to kill himself. Kevin, without a point of reference or any experience with suicide, took Donald to the bar and was going to get him as drunk as he could afford to. Kevin, was determined that the man woukd at least live through the night. He also had bought a couple of malt liquor 40 oz. and a bottle of the cheapest gin he could find.
If nothing else Don would be too drunk to end it tonight. Kevin knew exactly how many drinks he could afford, and when the barmaid plopped another in front of him, Kevin said “Aye Ma, I didn't order this no.” The barmaid who had been flirting with Donald pointed with an annoyed expression, and said “It's from the lady at the end of the bar.” The lady at the end of the bar was gorgeous. She was the type of woman who rarely got hit on, mostly because of how much men fear rejection. Her teeth could have sold any brand of toothpaste, her hair was the most brilliant and dynamic shade of black that had ever existed, and served as the perfect complement to her complexion. If Kelvin had been forced to describe it, he would have called her complexion “light and sweet” The woman looked like his morning coffee.

Kevin, did something he had seen his Uncle Billy do, he gripped the bill of his Mets cap with his thumb and forefinger and gave it just the slightest tilt.

Instead of the debonair impression he was intending the move simply dislodged some of his wayward mane. Fortunately, he had no ideal.  Kevin tried to figure out what he was going to say before he got up and walked over to the beautiful woman. He imagined that she was what Cleopatra must have looked like. She had let it be known that she was interested, now he had to decipher how to keep that interest going. Kevin camouflaged his breath check and strolled to where she sat.

“Hello, I’m sure that you know this but you are beautiful as hell. Seriously, I know that it don’t sound cool or suave or whatever and I don’t care. I just got to tell you the truth! My name is Kevin, you are?”

The vision of loveliness laughed before she responded, the ignorant country boy thing was kind of a refreshing change. “I’m Jesse” she said the musical sound of her laughter still much in evidence in her voice.

Kevin, silently asked about the seat beside her and was answered the same way, with a hand gesture that told him yeah, it’s okay to sit here.

The large youth pulled out the stool beside her and sat. He offered a cigarette and asked if it was okay to smoke simultaneously. He lit his and hers with his zippo. Within moments He and Jesse were having a good conversation, soon she had talked him into taking off his hat.

The barmaid plopped another Southern Comfort and Lime neat in front of Kevin and he felt the need to let Jesse know that he could pay for his own drinks.  “Just let me Kevin, this is my place the drinks aren’t really costing me anything.”

“Your place as in you own it? Anit you a little young to own a bar?”

Her magical laughter rang out again.

“Oh my god you are a beautiful man Kevin, but you should really stop trying to flatter me.” Kevin shrugged, he had been doing nothing of the sort. He was certain that Jesse was older than him, but he still figured that she was too young to own a bar.

Soon the small bar’s crowd began to thin and Kevin had to make sure that his friend Donald would be okay.  The barmaid was adamant. “He’s okay, I got him.”

The discovery that Donald wouldn’t be passing out on his floor gave Kevin the option to hang out with Jesse more, and they made plans.

“So you said you live across the street right? Just go get a coat and I’ll show you my city.” Kevin had no coat to get, but he went across the street and rolled up an ugly and pregnant joint. New York was truly the city that never slept, and Kevin had to jog to cross the street.

“Where’s your coat?” Jesse asked as Kevin approached her Red Merkur XR4TI. The southern native explained his newness to the Icy temperatures and his lack of suitable clothes. He offered the angelic beauty some of the hastily rolled marijuana cigarette.

“Nah, let’s stop by the Jamaican spot and get something. I have a feeling it’ll be a surprise.” She winked at him and Kevin was firmly under her spell. On the ride to the weed spot Kevin listened to the music Jessie played. The beat was awesome, but it sounded as if the singer was growling at him in a foreign language.

Kevin, wanted to ask Jesse about the song, but he also didn’t want to seem like more of a bumpkin then he actually was. Buying weed at a store with bulletproof glass and nothing on the shelves was a new experience amid a sea of new experiences.

Jesse split a cigar expertly and rolled the first blunt that Kevin had ever had. The weed hit him instantly. It was much darker than anything he had smoked before and it seemed to ignite his entire brain. 

Suddenly the music was no longer in a foreign and unknowable tongue. 

It was just English and Kevin understood every word.

 It was such a shock that he told this goddess that he was trying to impress. 

“Aye I know what he is saying now!”

By the time the pair had driven to Brooklyn Kevin was singing along.

“Girl Flex! Flex time to have sex ah.” 

This music was all right. 

Kevin was in Love…with Reggae. 

He kinda liked Jesse too.