Marlon James - A Brief History of Seven Killings

So I come out of General Penitentiary in 1972? And is like Jamdown was a different place totally. Or at least a different party running things. Even the music you was hearing was different. Then again maybe it wasn’t so different. But 1972 if you were a young man and you wanted anything, a job, a house, shit, even certain kind of woman, you had to go through two people, Buntin-Banton and Dishrag. The two was the top-ranking PNP dons in Kingston, maybe Jamaica. I mean, I come out and me see all these men, Shotta Sherrif may he rest in peace, Scotsman, Tony Flash from S90 posse, all them man dress like top-ranking with plenty girls looking hot and ready and me say is where unu get money from? Them say, You better link up with Buntin-Banton and Dishrag and get a job with the Gully Works Project. At least that was some decent money even if you didn’t have to use your head once. I mean, the only thing you had to worry about was the police. That was until the police kill Buntin-Banton and Dishrag. Funny, when the shotters were around I get decent work, but as soon as they kill the shotters I become a shotter. The thing is, though PNP man was vicious, they never really have any ambition. The thing about a thug is he can only think small. Shotta Sherrif take over as the ranking don for the Eight Lanes and him use to have this second-in-command who probably in command now, I think we call him Funnyboy. I can’t even remember now. Anyway, all these guys could do was protect territory and make sure they didn’t lose any to JLP gunman. But the JLP rudies, man. Them man did have ideas. Josey Wales was talking to the Colombians long before they even realise they would get tired of the Bahamians. Oh and here is something a lot of people don’t know. Him can chat Spanish. Me hear him talk it over the phone one time. Only God he knows when the man did learn Spanish.

The two side, PNP and JLP, realise they have one thing in common. Babylon out to kill you whether you was an animal with stripes or spots. After Green Bay everybody did know that, not just gunman.

Them never bother you so much if you was PNP. But them police and soldier would kill anybody. I should tell you ’bout when me run into Rawhide. You no know Rawhide? And you writing book about Jamaica? Rawhide is one inspector in the Jamaica Police Constabulary and the big-time politician personal bodyguard. No me no know him real name. So we down in Two Friends night club downtown, way downtown, on the pier, and everybody just a level the vibes, everybody just cool, no botheration a go on, nobody trying to shoot nobody, everybody just a drink and reason and rub up ’pon a girl ’cause the new Dennis Brown song just a nice up the dance. When who fi burst ’pon the scene but Rawhide? Bad man and rudeboy don’t ’fraid of nobody but everybody know Rawhide don’t ’fraid of nobody neither. And my boy come in trash out in the latest fashion. Two gun strap to him side like he really name Rawhide and a M16 in him hand.

Now everybody know the rule with Rawhide. If he find you with gun you dead. Just like that. No question, just dead, braps. I just pick out the gun out of me waist with two finger like is baby nappy, put one arm around my girl waist like me dancing with her and push the gun right between her bosom.

Lola! Her name was Lola. She was a… Why you laughing? Oh. Right. Anyway, I thought you was asking me about the peace treaty. Boy, you have a way of going off topic. But tell me something, Alex Pierce, why this subject intrigue you? Is that the word? Why this subject intrigue you so much? Honestly now that I look back at it, this peace treaty was a little shit stain that wash ’way in the first laundry.

Shotta Sherrif is the man who approach me about being the chairman of the peace council. First he and Papa-Lo and some other man all go to England to convince the Singer to come back and do a concert to raise some money for the ghetto. Now ask me why with all these politicians in the ghetto every day, we still had to launch a concert to raise money. Anyway, him put up my name to be chairman and nobody object. Shotta Sherrif, man, I never see a man so sad to give me a gun, like me disappoint him or something. Even among the gunmen he always giving me non-gunman things to do, like organize dance and arrange funeral, and even have me talk couple time to whichever politician come through the ghetto. One time some white people with camera come through to do some story about Coronation Market and he just say Tristan, coolie boy, go show them white people the market, and talk you talk. Me don’t know what him talking ’bout but when the white woman turn on her camera me see say she don’t just expect me to show her Coronation Market, she also expect me to talk about it. Them all give me the mic like me about to host Soul Train . Shotta Sherrif, man. Him was something else. Him was…

him was…

I… I…

stop the tape.

Just stop the tape. Stop the fucking tape.

Where you going? Sit youself down… and make me tell you a story. The Singer readying for the second peace concert. Lighting set up, microphone, stage, everything, the Singer even do one more sound check. Me in the office and get a call from Josey Wales that one of the lighting equipment boxes still at the wharf and they need it onstage now. So me call the Minister of National Security to clear the box. Wales send one of him man from the JLP to go deal with the equipment, this man who call himself Weeper. You spend one minute with this man you smell that he performing, something about him not there, something about him that you just know all you seeing of him is all he set out to show. Him even say yes like he acting in front of audience. So here me was in the meeting when somebody tell me that this box of equipment never reach the concert, even though me have documentation sitting on me desk. When somebody say that plenty man in Copenhagen throwing their old guns to the Wang Gang because brand-new guns show up all of a sudden me look straight at Weeper who didn’t even blink. Me end the meeting early and remind them that some of the money from the concert don’t come in yet.

— Weeper, one second, me say and he hold back. — What the bombocloth a gwaan?

— What the bombocloth ’bout what? him say.

— What this fuckery ’bout the lighting equipment? You did know it was gun in there?

— Phillips, no you choose me to go pick it up? You ah ask me?

— Don’t try play cute, pussyhole, it don’t suit you, me say. Him screw up him face like him smelling something bad. Then he say to me,

— Look, brethren, you in ah the peace runnings, gwaan through with that, me not going stop you. Me a deal with peace too, but it don’t spell your way.

Then him walk ’way. Funny, I don’t think he would have talked like that to any other man in the ghetto. I still don’t know if he was trying to show me that him dangerous or him smart. Him definitely didn’t like me telling him that he wasn’t cute.

But enough of that pussyhole for now. Tell me the truth, Alex Pierce. Why you can’t go back to Jamaica?

A s for the gig, batshit crazy Colombian bitch was nothing if not specific. Ice him slow, but let him know though she didn’t set up the hit, niggers from Biscayne Bay to Kendal West are gonna learn to respect the mamajama — her words, not mine, since the wetback dyke never learned Yankee-speak too good. That’s it, I’m supposed to let that sink in while the motherfucker bleeds out. And she said a whole bunch of other shit too that I didn’t understand either, maybe because she couldn’t remember the original message. Bitch spent a lot of time acting like the orders came from her, when she was just being the fucking receptionist. But fuck Griselda Blanco. I’m in New York and everything is motherfucking ace.