I chuckle.
“That affi gwaan man,” Gutta says. “That affi gwan,” he repeats. He’s thinking about the food.
“Mad thing,” Rick says and I look back at Junior. He’s texting on his phone. I grab my weed bag and scissors before I start building a spliff. When I’m done, I puff it while bobbing my head to Meek Mills’s Pain Away.
It’s dark outside.
I lean on the door, watching as people drive in the gas station filling their tanks. Gutta walks over to the pump attendant when there’s no car there. She’s laughing a lot. Dawg a get dat.
“You deal wid Jordane thing?” Junior finally speaks again and I look over at him.
“Yes mi deal with it and it Gov,” I tell him before I give him a run down of what really happened. We ended up laughing when I’m done talking.
Rick comes at the window, handing a drink to me and I take it. “See a strong back yah.”
It’s a Tru juice, beetroot drink.
“Respect bro G,” I laugh. He walks away and my attention shifts back to Junior.
“Glad you deal wid it though bro,” Junior says then his phone rings and his entire demeanor changes. So fast?
Mi nuh know nobody else, whose mood can just change in a split second. He hiss before he answers the phone.
Puzzled, I look away wondering what could be the reason he got so irritated when he just got a call.
I know Junior is easily annoyed by people and I’d say I understand when he behaves this way with people or when they call him unnecessarily but I can’t get this; especially when I saw the caller ID.
65
Sooth
It’s Skye, our cousin. Why she annoy Junior this much? “Yeah yaw talk to Junior,” he says and I look away, waiting for him to get off the phone to question him.
“Suzanne never give you har number from the dinner?” he’s annoyed by her. Then he tells her Suzanne’s number and hangs up shortly after.
“Uncle Orion daughter that though?” I turn to him and he hums.
Suh’m nuh right..
“A wah gwaan?” my gaze on him, he shrugs.
“Nothing,” he says.
“She nuh nice?” I ask curiously. He chuckles humorlessly. She doesn’t seem like a bad person to me. Wah she could a do?
“You nuh rate har,” I tell him. I don’t need to ask him because it’s obvious. He looks outside briefly before he looks back at me.
“A har father mi nuh rate,” he says surprising me.
“Why?” I question and he takes up his lucozade.
“Dawg, mi affi go move yah now,” he says, making me furrow my brows. Is he avoiding this?
What exactly is he avoiding?
“Junior weh yaw go? Nuh talk we a talk bad man?” I try as he pulls the door.
He’s acting strange.
