Addict chronicles cont’d

Whenever an addict is going through one of their episodes it affects everyone especially if you live with the addict. The addict has been drinking all day today, managed to bounce his van reversing out of our own yard as he hit the front gate and now the gate isn’t closing properly.

So in our already crime ridden country with robbery and murder everywhere (we already have 50 murders for the month of January already and it’s only now the 24th in an island of only just 1.3 million people), we now have a gate TO our house not closing properly. Obviously it needs to fix and obviously he has no money. So it will resort in us having to pay to fix it just to ensure security.

Is SO long – years ago- I tell my mother get rid of him and she didn’t listen and now clearly we can’t get rid of him. What ever happened to things like karma ? How is it possible you get to disrupt everyone’s life, drive around drunk, do cocaine and owe ppl thousands of dollars and yet still – nothing happens – you just come home, eat and go to bed. No police on the road stop you? Nobody try to rob you yet in THIS crime ridden country? It’s unfathomable.

I would still love to know what I did in a past life to end up being stuck with him.


Interlude of musing…

I was doing well with blogging / writing everyday for the year so far until last week Friday. Went to lime with some friends had lots of sushi and even more wine and came home and went straight to bed … was hungover some of Saturday then went to a carnival fete that night, so slept some of Sunday… and by that time the momentum was broken. So here I am on Monday feeling not like writing.

Keeping up with the momentum of anything is something I’ve never been able to do… I start things and go well for about a month or two and then just fall off of it and may take a year or more before I go back to it at all. But my deal was to try to write something everyday – doesn’t matter what it is – so in between the writing I do these little “musing” pieces so that I am keeping up with at least putting something out there even if I don’t feel that it’s necessarily the creative direction I want to go in.

I hope that by mid week I will get back on the right track with my writing.

Strange Acquaintances #15

A week later Sandy was hurriedly getting dressed as Ella would be by soon to pick her up to head to the restaurant, when she heard an insistent knocking at the front door. “Gups!” she yelled. “I got it!” he yelled back. She struggled into some leggings and pulled the blue work jersey over her head. She grabbed the copy of “Thornbirds” sitting on the side table in Guppy’s room, her latest read since she has finished ‘The Waterbabies”, made her way into the living room but stopped dead at the door.

Two policemen stood just at the front door.

“Ma’am are you…” said one as he looked own into his book, “Sandy Constantine?”

“Yes” she answered in a near whisper.

“So you know a Jerry Conant?” he continued.

“Uhm… well,” she answered, her face growing slowly more and more pale as fright began to creep across it. She flicked her eyes over in Guppy’s direction but he seemed cool while her insides began to melt to jelly.

“Officer what is the matter exactly?” Guppy interrupted casually.

“Well seems Mr. Conant’s brother… amm” he flipped through the pages of his notepad before continuing, “John… reported him missing a few weeks back. Seems someone found his car abandoned not too far up from here and called us. We found Miss Constantine’s purse in the car with her IDs and so we asked around the neighbors led us here,” he turned back to Sandy.

“Oh” replied Sandy, her mind was becoming as blank as the officer’s expression.

“I’m sorry Officer what did you say your name was?” Guppy interrupted once more.

“Ah I’m sorry I’m Officer Davis and this is lieutenant Jones”, he responded coolly. He regarded Guppy with more interest now as he realized that Sandy was deferring conversation to him so he turned his attention more intently to Sandy and said “You didn’t give me an answer.”

“Answer to what?” responded Sandy as she snapped back to the reality before her and willed herself to push the image of Jerry’s body being swallowed by the dark sea out of her mind.

“DID you know Mr. Conant,” Officer Davis said sharply. At that Lieutenant Jones began to look more interested.

“Yes, Yes I did” Sandy answered as her mind started to race. It made no sense lying about knowing Jerry, everyone knew they had been in a relationship – that was easy enough to investigate.

“Good so then you can tell us where he is!” Officer Davis exclaimed flipping his notepad shut and looking her straight in the face.

“No… I can’t” Sandy said as Guppy interjected “Officer I can explain..”

“I want HER to explain” stated Davis with his mouth set hard.

Officer Davis was a full six foot four inches tall- he made Guppy seem small which was no easy feat. He has a shock of dark hair on his head and a ruddy complexion with equally dark probing eyes and a hard set mouth. Lieutenant Jones by contrast was barely five foot four with a wiry frame and a pale sickly hue to his complexion. Jones seemed to be a lithe shadow to Davis’ imposing stature. Sandy did not feel that Davis was one to expend a lot of patience and she knew she was beginning to test his.

She gathered her thoughts and then stated calmly, “I left Jerry months ago. I was having an affair with Guppy.”

“You left without your purse and IDs?” Davis questioned with his eyebrow raised.

“Jerry was jealous. Ask anyone. He didn’t want me to leave so he hid my stuff… so I just left. I figured I would just get an affidavit and get a new ID since, technically, I had lost them,” Sandy answered.

“How long have you and this woman been in a … relationship sir?” Lieutenant Jones finally piped in, directing it to Guppy.

“Oh well probably a year and a half now?” Guppy mused and absentmindedly stroked his beard that was no longer there.

“That’s right,” Sandy corroborated as she sidled up alongside Guppy and he put his arm around her shoulder.

“Yup Sandy been here living with me and working with my sister, ask anyone,” Guppy said evenly.

“I see….” replied Officer Davis as he gave Lieutenant Jones a look. “Well in that case Miss Constantine, I will return your belongings to you. We will be towing Mr. Conant’s car back however… if he happens to get in contact with you, you will let us know won’t you?” said Davis as he handed Sandy her purse.

“Of course,” answered both Guppy and Sandy.

The two policemen turned to leave when Davis turned back to them, “one more thing… you’re sure you have NO idea what Mr. Conant’s car was doing in this area.. as in you did not see him AT ALL?” he asked.

“No idea… I assume looking for me but… he never came here,” answered Sandy firmly.

“Ok. Well we will be in touch,” Davis replies and Guppy closed the door behind them.

As the door shut behind them, both policemen turned to look at each other.

Strange Acquaintances #14

It had been a few weeks since Sandy and Guppy’s ‘expedition’ out at sea. Sandy’s feet were healed and she began working an afternoon shift over at Ella’s restaurant… she told herself it was because Ella needed the help but really she knew it was because she wanted to contribute. Guppy has taken her in and helped her in ways she couldn’t even begin to repay him and she felt the need to do something in return. Working over at ‘Stay Gold Grill’ seemed like a good idea that would get her some of her own money and give her some independence and give Guppy his place back during the day.

Sandy had been more than a bit confused about the name of Ella’s restaurant until Guppy explained that it was a reference to a Robert Frost poem that was made mention of in ‘The Outsiders’, a story that Ella loved, and it also represented Ella’s ‘bright’ personality. The decor of the restaurant certainly was bright as everything was painted in blue and white trim with gold accent pieces, such as a gold anchor hanging on the wall behind the bar and a net similar to the one in Guppy’s living room with golden crustaceans pinned to it. The outfit for staff (Ella and Sandy and two cooks), were black pants with either blue or white t-shirts with the name of the restaurant emblazoned in gold on the back.

Sandy knew nothing about working in a restaurant – she had been an office girl all of her working life – nor did she have any experience really with working with customers face to face. Luckily for her, most of the customers were fishermen who were all to happy to see a new face. They were bawdy but not crude and most of the time Sandy was enthralled with their stories of being out in the sea. On a number of occasions Mo entered and Sandy would take his order shyly for he still only stared at her with curiousity but never asked her anything directly about herself or about why Guppy had borrowed the boat that evening weeks earlier.

Ella gave running commentary on everyone that entered of course and soon enough Sandy began to learn all the quirks of their customers – who stayed out at sea longer than they needed to because they were fed up of their wives, who stayed out at sea because they were always chasing that epic battle with a gargantuan fish; the type of battle that gave them the true feeling of living, who stayed out at sea because there was no real home to come to back to on land or just who inherited fishing from their father who inherited it from their father and so on.

There was a small back room where Ella’s daughters would hide away in after school and do their homework and play while Ella worked. However, after a few hours they would always escape and make themselves at home at the tables or on the knee of some easy going customer that they had known all of their lives. Ella’s children had inherited her personality and if anything, they shined brighter than she did. Sandy could easily see why Guppy doted over them the way that he did. They could make any droll day immediately seem lively…

After one of these long evenings at the restaurant, Ella dropped Sandy back home to Guppy’s. It was already after ten pm and the girls were sleeping in the back seat of the car. As Ella pulled up outside the house she turned to Sandy and abruptly said, “I know why Guppy wouldn’t go back out to sea. He thinks I don’t know but I do.” Sandy was startled because she was not exactly sure how to respond to this… did Ella ‘really know’? And if she did… why did she assume that Sandy would know?. Ella waved her hand to cut Sandy off before she could begin taking. “You’re changing him Sandy. I can see it… and it’s for the better. He loved… loves… the sea. I hope one day you will get him to go back out on it again… well, have a good night I will pick you up on the morning.” Sandy mumbled goodnight in reply but was thinking that if only Ella knew how true those words were.

She entered the house and called out, ” Gupps I’m back!”. She closed the door and when she turned around she was immediately shocked to find a stranger in the living room. She instinctively backed away into the front door and was about to yell for Guppy when she realized … it WAS Guppy. “Surprise,” he said with a sheepish grin on his face as she stood gawking at him – the beard was gone.

Musing on writing

I did a start of a short story something last night … but there was truly something still nagging me about the story I thought I had ended. I think because of that residual feeling the new story just is not ready yet to find its rhythm.

But I’m also stuck with regard to exactly where I might go if I continue the old one… however there is quite a clamouring from a couple friends who had read it so far that insist that they want to read more (cue insert from Misery right about here lol).

I’ve had a migraine that’s been on and off for a couple days though and I just feel really drained. So I will see how I feel tomorrow and maybe get back to Sandy’s story then or see if Dahlia’s story decides to come to me.

Dolores O’Riordan … The Cranberries

The sudden death of Dolores O’Riordan has shocked people worldwide… myself included. Though an Irish band, people may be shocked to know that they were the voice of a generation of teenagers in the nineties in this little Caribbean island. I listened to the Cranberries every night throughout my years in high school and their music is ultimately some of the greatest of all time from that era. I still have the cassette tapes I listened to back then for sentimental value…

The loss of such a unique, beautiful and heart wrenching voice is a blow to not only the music industry but people on the whole. There are scant few musicians who are able to touch a generation the way that The Cranberries were able to and decades later their music can be played and still seem relevant and just as soul baring.

I spent some time playing some of my favourite songs from them earlier … all of which I still remember the words to… and I wondered how did more than two decades go by since I first began listening to their music. I recalled the teenage angst and just wanting to find myself at that age and having the whole world ahead of me still and not knowing what life would bring my way after high school. It is safe to say The Cranberries were the soundtrack to my teenage years.

I loved their music and continue to love their music. I hope that Dolores finds peace and know that she was loved by millions around the world and we thank her for sharing her unmatched talent with us.

Rest In Peace.

“Oh my life, is changing everyday

In every possible way

And oh my dreams, it’s never quite as it seems

Cause you’re a dream to me

Dream to me”

– ‘Dreams’ – The Cranberries


The fierce humidity of the afternoon drove beads of perspiration down her forehead as she trudged from the from the corner of her street toward her house. Although it was just a few yards trek after being dropped off by her driver, she always dreaded those final few steps before she got home. She shifted the straps of her heavy backpack uneasily from one shoulder to the next, lost in her thoughts about her unfinished physics lab, whether she made the debate team and just how to tell her mother that she had decided she wanted to live with her father after their divorce was final.

Dahlia, at fifteen, was already a long legged stunner with dark eyes which seemed weighed down by a seemingly unnatural amount of eyelashes. She had acquired her name due to her father’s obsession with researching well known unsolved cases, especially ‘The Black Dahlia’ , as well as having been born with a full head of jet black hair. She had an easy gracefulness and maturity that made her stand out from her peers but also made her very lonely. Boys were quickly intimidated by her ability to cower them with one look over her shoulder and girls were jealous of her supposed aloofness to the many issues that bombarded teenage girls. However Dahlia’s loneliness amongst her peers only served to amplify her teenage angst and the added stress of the disintegration of her parents’ marriage. To a casual onlooker Dahlia in passing was a look of perfection, until you caught her eye and saw the sadness that dwelled within them.

Dahlia had long deliberated on who she would choose to live with… not because it was a hard choice – she knew she chose her father from the moment the decision needed to be made. It was the oppressive weight of her mother’s annoyance that she could not bear to take. Carmen Devoe could never be satisfied – not by her quiet bookish husband nor their offspring. James Devoe had easily won Carmen over when she realized the plush condition of his many bank accounts, however keeping her enthralled was quite another story. Dahlia didn’t believe that Carmen wanted her now within the construct of mother/ daughter but what Carmen DID want was to win… and if winning meant hurting James by separating him from Dahlia, despite her distaste for being a mother, that is what she would do.

By now Dahlia had opened her front gate, entered her yard and turned to replace the latch of the gate. Her muddled thoughts of the afternoon along with the intense desire to just get home and shower and wash of the afternoon heat had caused her to neglect her surroundings. She never noticed the silver-grey car that cruised along behind her since she had been dropped off at the corner. As she turned she finally noticed the car as it was now parked just outside the gate and it was the fraction of a second that she paused to look at it that was her mistake. Two hooded figures darted from the car and ran toward the gate. Dahlia, shocked, stood with mouth agape and only when they had closed half the distance to her gate did she attempt to struggle with the bolt but it was too late. One slammed his body weight straight into the gate and it flung against her, hitting her square in the face and she fell backwards against the concrete. By the time she registered that she hit the ground the two were standing over her, one grabbing her legs and the other her upper body.

She began to kick her legs furiously and scream out, but it was no use as the two pinned her legs and arms tightly as they carted her from the front yard and thrust her into the waiting vehicle. She was shoved in tightly with the two men in the backseat and a long strip of tape slapped over her mouth and a black cloth of some kind thrown roughly over her head and pulled tightly shut around her neck. She couldn’t utter a sound and her mind was racing as she tried to recall what she had learnt in the self-defense type courses that her father had made her take as a child. James may have spent too much of his time working but he was aware of the dangers that someone with his wealth faced, and he had tried to encourage Dahlia at a young age to learn some basic defensive strategies in the event of some unlikely need for it… like now.

‘You can’t see anything… take deep breaths… try to calm down and LISTEN’ she told herself although it seemed as if every pore of her body was screaming in panic. She tried to listen keenly to anything that was said by the men in the car, when she felt a sharp sting in her shoulder and she immediately felt herself going unconscious so that she only heard three words spoken before she blacked out… “Make the call.”