18. The Heaviest Load I’ve Ever Had To Carry Was Also The
Lightest
Written and Illustrated
by Tiffany Osedra Miller
Trotting home after a long day of carrying people to and from the carnival grounds, I found what looked like a powdered woman waiting alone at the taxi stand over on Baffany Street. Her skin and clothing were completely white.
“Driver, I know it late and you must be so tire’ but mek you tek me to the carnival ground so that I may bounce up for a time,” She said.
I told her, “yes, of course, climb on.”
“Good God, Driverman, you are as Black as before God and dem come up with de word. I ‘ope dem road have plenty light.” I laughed louder than I intended to.
“Yes well, that is how my Holy Father made me. Blacker than black, so.” Her body felt cold on my back. Then it felt hot.
“Driver mek you tek the scenic route so that I may ‘onor the vegetation.”
“Yes,” I said again, “as you wish.”
“Driver, stop at de bakery just past the likkle dutty cat’edral on the right so that I may get me a beef patty and a bag of tamarind cookie. I didn’t eat a t’ing today! And could you go inside and get it for me? That’s a good Driver. Dem don’t like me in dey, you know. I walk in to give dem my business and dem turn up dey face and talk and talk like dem just learn de skill.” I did as she asked and she ate, dropping crumbs on my back while I trotted towards the carnival grounds. We could hear the soca music and saw in the distance an occasional flashing light.
“Driver, stop at de ‘ouse on de corna’ for a spell while I visit with my cousin, Judas Soredso and see if he have any goat water to give me and for me to pray wit’ ‘im for ‘im sick stepmudder, ‘attie Sodarkso my very best pretend sista, to get well. When we was comin’ up we used to chase plenty boy and t’ing.”
“Okay, Miss, but then we must head on over to the carnival grounds so that I can drop you off. I am tired and I need my sleep.”
“Okay Driver!” She sucked her teeth as she climbed off my back and knocked on Judas’ door. I got a good look at her white backside then. She felt heavier than she looked. Not bad, though. She came back some time later, looking a little pensive.
“Did you save any goat water for me?” I joked. She shook her head, no, drank something from a flask and we continued on our way.
“What are you supposed to be?” I asked her.
“I ain’t suppose’ to be nothin’” She said.
“What sort of costume is that you are wearing then? It’s interesting.”
“This ain’t a bloodclot costume, Driver. While you and people like you are busy judgin’ me, I am busy being what it is that I am which is a h’angel of survival. I never want for nothin’!”
I tossed my head back and laughed and she slapped me in my mouth. I shook her off my back and she fell onto the ground. She got up immediately, grabbed a stick on the side of the road and began beating me with it. All the fares that I had collected throughout the day fell onto the ground. She gathered up the money and stuffed it in her brassiere
“That is a crime, two crimes in fact, assault and robbery.” I said.
“Who is going to believe you over me?” She asked, taking another sip from her flask and up the money. I don’t know why but I was stunned when she said this.
“Now fix you’self up and straighten you’self out and take me to carnival by any means necessary, Driver.”
“An angel of survival! Since when do angels need cold cream? You think you is royalty?! Well, you ain’t. You just a nothin’ like me. Only you the one trying to erase you’self.”
“What is you, Driver? You is nothin’ but Pitch! That’s right, Pitch! If I’m de one erase it because you already invisible.”
We tussled for a bit. The money she stole from me fell out of her bra, but I didn’t grab it. I was too busy grabbing her. She was too busy grabbing me back. Yes, in spite of myself, I took that woman to Carnival. We were also married later that evening by the local priest.
Written and Illustrated
by Tiffany Osedra Miller
Trotting home after a long day of carrying people to and from the carnival grounds, I found what looked like a powdered woman waiting alone at the taxi stand over on Baffany Street. Her skin and clothing were completely white.
“Driver, I know it late and you must be so tire’ but mek you tek me to the carnival ground so that I may bounce up for a time,” She said.
I told her, “yes, of course, climb on.”
“Good God, Driverman, you are as Black as before God and dem come up with de word. I ‘ope dem road have plenty light.” I laughed louder than I intended to.
“Yes well, that is how my Holy Father made me. Blacker than black, so.” Her body felt cold on my back. Then it felt hot.
“Driver mek you tek the scenic route so that I may ‘onor the vegetation.”
“Yes,” I said again, “as you wish.”
“Driver, stop at de bakery just past the likkle dutty cat’edral on the right so that I may get me a beef patty and a bag of tamarind cookie. I didn’t eat a t’ing today! And could you go inside and get it for me? That’s a good Driver. Dem don’t like me in dey, you know. I walk in to give dem my business and dem turn up dey face and talk and talk like dem just learn de skill.” I did as she asked and she ate, dropping crumbs on my back while I trotted towards the carnival grounds. We could hear the soca music and saw in the distance an occasional flashing light.
“Driver, stop at de ‘ouse on de corna’ for a spell while I visit with my cousin, Judas Soredso and see if he have any goat water to give me and for me to pray wit’ ‘im for ‘im sick stepmudder, ‘attie Sodarkso my very best pretend sista, to get well. When we was comin’ up we used to chase plenty boy and t’ing.”
“Okay, Miss, but then we must head on over to the carnival grounds so that I can drop you off. I am tired and I need my sleep.”
“Okay Driver!” She sucked her teeth as she climbed off my back and knocked on Judas’ door. I got a good look at her white backside then. She felt heavier than she looked. Not bad, though. She came back some time later, looking a little pensive.
“Did you save any goat water for me?” I joked. She shook her head, no, drank something from a flask and we continued on our way.
“What are you supposed to be?” I asked her.
“I ain’t suppose’ to be nothin’” She said.
“What sort of costume is that you are wearing then? It’s interesting.”
“This ain’t a bloodclot costume, Driver. While you and people like you are busy judgin’ me, I am busy being what it is that I am which is a h’angel of survival. I never want for nothin’!”
I tossed my head back and laughed and she slapped me in my mouth. I shook her off my back and she fell onto the ground. She got up immediately, grabbed a stick on the side of the road and began beating me with it. All the fares that I had collected throughout the day fell onto the ground. She gathered up the money and stuffed it in her brassiere
“That is a crime, two crimes in fact, assault and robbery.” I said.
“Who is going to believe you over me?” She asked, taking another sip from her flask and up the money. I don’t know why but I was stunned when she said this.
“Now fix you’self up and straighten you’self out and take me to carnival by any means necessary, Driver.”
“An angel of survival! Since when do angels need cold cream? You think you is royalty?! Well, you ain’t. You just a nothin’ like me. Only you the one trying to erase you’self.”
“What is you, Driver? You is nothin’ but Pitch! That’s right, Pitch! If I’m de one erase it because you already invisible.”
We tussled for a bit. The money she stole from me fell out of her bra, but I didn’t grab it. I was too busy grabbing her. She was too busy grabbing me back. Yes, in spite of myself, I took that woman to Carnival. We were also married later that evening by the local priest.
Goatwaterstrip
written and illustrated by
Tiffany Osedra Miller
Copyright 2012-2013
all rights reserved.
written and illustrated by
Tiffany Osedra Miller
Copyright 2012-2013
all rights reserved.
2/19/13
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