Kingston Noir Read Online Free PDF

despite the world happening around me, all I could hear in my head was one thing: I have to fuck you.
    For the next few days, all I did was scheme to do exactly that. Just to say it now fill me with such shame. I never used to talk about lovemaking like that. So why I was thinking that kinda language with her? Is not like say she was the kinda woman who use that kinda language. But I was entering a dark place, a place that was not really me.
    I made a plan. A simple plan—make the search look like the hardest thing in the world, just like I used to do when a business hire me to steal information, and check in with her regular, and tell her things that was not really anything, not so much updates … that might not be the word … more like warnings … I need to talk to you, off the cell phone, though … Best to talk in person … Hey, you don’t know who might be watching you … I don’t know … You can never tell … I know the drive long … With the toll on the causeway it should take me door-to-door a hour and mash .
    She lived out in Portmore, what was just beach and alligator swamp in the ’70s when I was a boy. Quarter-million people out there now on the dump-up land looking over them shoulder for alligator—when it rain like is Florida them live.
    She lived in one of the newer schemes out there in a regular hot two-bedroom flat prefab with a grill-round veranda add on.
    At first that is where I’d give her the reports. She wouldn’t really make me come inside. Maybe it was because the little girl was home on summer holiday. But that suit me fine because since the little girl couldn’t hear, I could put forward some good arguments.
    Now, they say self-praise is no recommendation, but when I think back I have to say that my argument them was good. Watch the ride: I need some encouragement … My services are free, but a man could use a brawta now and then … I could search better if I could smell you on my lip all day … I wouldn’t call it love, but all I know is you come in like you want to live inside my head all day … All I want is a little taste …
    So couple days of this went on, yes—at first I used to only go out there in the day time. I mean, Deloris wanted me to help Cynthia, but woman have instincts, and they get sharper when some suspicion give them the vague feeling you might want to be taking them for fool. So no vague feelings was going come from me to Deloris. So no regular nighttime visiting.
    Until Deloris came to me in my office one afternoon looking kinda sad and say she sorry to give me short notice but she going to Miami to buy two new machine later on and she did mean to tell me before and she did mean to cook several meal for me that she could leave in the fridge, for she know me is a man who don’t eat out a-road, and again she sorry for the short notice but could I cook for myself for one night while she gone …
    As I’m saying this now is like I’m there … in Cynthia kitchen. Me and her face-to-face like we going dance a rent-a-tile tune. I can see everything like is right now … the two-burner stove, the pot of stew peas, the wall black up behind the stove … the Formica counter stain but clean-clean … the empty plate them on the table with a small slice of tomato still in mines … my belly full, the little girl sleeping.
    Yeah man, everything was coming together nice, and so I time it good and put the argument to her. When I put it, this is what she said: “What, you don’t believe me when I say I have AIDS?” And the way she say it, the serious way she say it, I knew right there that she was ready.
    I wanted to say, AIDS can’t come between two people who love one another . In my head she woulda took this as a joke, cause I woulda said it like a joke. I know how to do those things.
    Be that as it may, I didn’t joke it out though, I took it to her serious. I put my hand to her face and she flinch like she think I was going box her—reflexes, you know. And