Marlon James - A Brief History of Seven Killings

I run to a burnout car and almost stop to go in and hide until me turn into bones, but me keep running. Nothing hurt me unless me think about it, so when me think about food, hunger stagger me so bad that me fall down and roll. So me stop thinking about food. Running make me think that surely it soon be curfew so me can climb out of the gully and go somewhere where they be food to thief or water to drink, but me cuss ’cause there me was thinking about food again and me belly groan and cut me up with pain. Is true, you do feel better about things the further you run from it.

I pass the skeleton of a truck next and is not till me pass the skeleton of a boat that me see that me not in the gully no more. But me not in the sea either even though me tasting the salt and smelling the waves. Me toes digging in sand and mud and all around thick with tree, yellow tree that look like plastic with branch the bend smooth and vines hanging down and curling on the ground like snake. The sand cold and wet in one patch, then dry and hot in the other. I walk past a wet patch and a little hole open up and all sort of crab rush out. I stoop down and watch them, the light going out and sea getting louder. I look up and right there in front of me is a plane. It look like it fall and try to fly again but get trap in a spiderweb. The plane still struggling but the bushweb winning. It upright like a cross but the belly still silver and shiny. Half of the left wing gone and the tail sink into the sand. Sea bush and sea flower pushing through the cockpit and out the windows as if bush was the real passenger. Crab running all around it. Part of me want to fly open the door and look if a real skeleton inside and part of me want to sit in the seat and wait for the plane to pull itself free and fly away. The bush rustle and branches crack like wild pig tromping through the bush. I turn around and five six seven eight Rastaman surround me, all of them in white.

— What the bloodcl—

M e a scream out lawd! Woi! Nonononononononono! screaming but me can’t scream ’cause the gag block me mouth and me tongue can’t push it out and me vomit come up and me can’t swallow it back down and me coughing and choking. Josey Wales pull off me own ganzie them was using to blindfold me and all me can see is torch and shadow of man and shadow on tree that look like big giant hand stretching out from the ground but everything blurry. It dark and me try to run but me foot tie together and me hands too. Me can’t do nothing but hop so me hop and Josey Wales laugh. I can’t see him, me just hear the laugh. But then he nod and come out from behind the tree and I see that he is a man and not a shadow. And Weeper and Tony Pavarotti grab me and lift me up and me can’t do nothing, me can’t punch them, or thump them, or stab them, or kick them, me can only look at them real fierce, look at them like just once, just once pussyhole Jesus Christ give me the superpower me begging for since me was twelve. Make me stare them with heat energy power that slice them in two. Jesus! Jesus! They grab me and lift me and swing with a one, with a two, with a three and let me go and me fall right down in the grave landing ’pon me stomach with me face right in the mud. Mud cake in me right eye and it burn and it hurt and me can’t blink all the dirt out. Me roll over and they just watching me from up top and Josey Wales look down grinning and me mouth taste like vomit and stone and nooooooooooo noooooooo nooooooo me hand a burn and the skin won’t come off! The skin won’t come off! The skin won’t come off so that the blood would loosen the rope and free me hand. Weeper just shoot me, just shoot me please just shoot me, shoot me you bloodcloth wicked pussyhole, shoot me! Shoot me! Josey come up to edge and piss down on me. Me hand behind me back I hearing earthworms and ants I hearing ants they going bite and Pavarotti start filling up the grave nooooo nooooo noooooo mud raining dirt raining kicking and kicking and kicking five feet not six feet under can’t get up can’t get up mud and dirt and dust to dust and rocks and one rock break me nose and rock bullet me eye and no more toe and noooo sweep with you head sweep it off sweep off the dirt blow hard blow hard blow hard no no no no no no no no no no no no no blow hard can’t blow gag Jesus Superman Spiderman Captain America stare hard and superpower goin’ come superpower and me don’t have a little finger and me pull and pull and pull the rope over the stump of the little finger and free! Free! But the dirt raining and rising and me can’t look up but me hear them digging and throwing and dirt and dirt and stone clap forehead, can’t think superstare pow wap zip zooo zooom zooooooom pow them take this make joke see I can kick ’way dirt with two foot at the same time can kick ’way dirt like football, like you no like football kick ’way see it deh me bad me bad me tired me tired the dirt keep landing wetter and heavy like God pushing me down no no nuh nuh n — dirt in me left eye can’t shut it can’t blink can’t blink Weeper laugh more dirt more people more more more wiggle! Wiggle! Wiggle! Wiggle foot foot stuck then rock! Rock! Rock side to side no side only dirt turn over turn over ’bout turn over and crouch like baby crouch and so you have air I should have fuck the woman I live with no not her some other girl the girl two door down some other girl white girl charlie’s angel pussy pink pussy is pink me see in daddy secret book under the bed which he take out when he think me sleep and go off by himself and make man sound jesus me hard could fuck the ground must fuck the ground fuck fuck fuck want pussy no don’t want pussy fuck fuck fuck bend her over and rub the cunt and hoist up the battyhole and sink down the cock and it tight feel like piece of liver wrap ’round you cocky big big like daddy cocky when he fuck me whore mother her back to him she didn’t care who sleep and who wake and when she raise up herself daddy cocky like flagpole she raise and raise and couldn’t come off but she don’t want to come off she slide back down and yelp like puppy pussy cocky balls balls and me never see me father naked and me never see him fuck me mother maybe some other man maybe Funnyboy no he is battyman who make man suck him cocky then shoot them and shoot them dead and me never reach Cuba and me never go to Barbados and never take the S off Superman chest and can’t cry through the left eye it full with dirt so breathe in short not deep air scarce air scarce can’t feel new dirt dump on me only hear it so dark and wet and heavy, the dirt heavy and can’t more no no no no no no no stop stop breathe breathe short save save what? Dig dig dig dig chuck chuck chuck dead you going dead you going dead make me dead quick no live no dead you going dead take another breath don’t use up the air the air feel wet and hard and tight somebody hand over me nose it feel like somebody hand over me nose ah ah ah ah ah hhhh hhhhh Jesus! Jesus! Jeeeees one breath breath breath 1 breath 2 breath 3 breathe 4 breathe breath breathe fi fi fi fi fiiiiiiiiiiiive breath six breath se se se se sevennnnnnnneight br nnnnnnn huhhhhhuhhhuh hhuh hhuhh breeeeeeeeeeehuh huh huh hh hhh hhhhhh h h h h h h nine! Niiiiiiiiine nuhhhh nuhhhhhhhh nuhhhh huhhhh hhhhhhh hhhh h h hhhh h daddy no not the yellow fire engine the red one the yellow one can’t be real daddy no daddy I want a kisko pop and and lollipop and a tootsie pop and all kinda pop and a purple crayon and red too pink no pink is for girls pink is for girls HubbaBubba chewing gum don’t stick even when you blow a big big bubble biggest and bubblest ring around the rosie pocket full of posie aw shucks aw shucks we—

G od puts earth far away from heaven because even he can’t stand the smell of dead flesh. Death is not a soul catcher or a spirit, it’s a wind with no warmth, a crawling sickness. I will be there when they kill Tony McFerson. I will be there when the Eventide Old Folks home goes up in fire and smoke. Nobody tries to save himself. I will be there when the boy buried alive crosses over but still thinks he’s not dead and I’ll follow him when he walks to the house of the reggae Singer. I will be there when they come for the last one in the old city. When three run into rough justice. When the Singer dancing with his undead toe falls in Pennsylvania and his locks drop and scatter.