Kingsley’s Stories, Pt. 2

In part one of this post, I shared the first part of my friend Kingsley’s story about Miss Birdie Easter Bun. Missed it? Before you go any further, Read Part 1 Here

As promised, here is part two. Enjoy!:

“Kingsley!” My father shouted from the front of the house. I pretended I didn’t hear him. See, once I’m not at work, I like to lock away in my room and binge watch my favorite tv series. The last thing I wanted to do was to get out of bed.

“Kingsley!” This time he was a bit louder so I had to respond.

“Yes daddy?” I paused my show and listened keenly for him to say what he wanted.

“Somebody come to yuh.”

I was puzzled. For one, when my dad calls me ‘Kingsley’ rather than my nick name, ‘Tuh-Tuh’, it means an unfamiliar person is visiting. And two, when he shouts my name from the front of the yard rather than come to my room to tell me who’s there (so I can decide if I’m gonna get up or not) it means he doesn’t know the person and it’s important.

“Mi a forward!” I responded. I got some clothes on and made my way to the front.

As soon as I made it through the living room door and unto the verandah, my mouth was in my hand!

Lisa was at my gate.

“KING!” She unbolted the gate and hopscotched her way unto the verandah to hug me. I didn’t know what to do, or say.

I was frozen.

“Geezam, yuh house big and pretty duo. Lawks!” Lisa sat comfortably on one of the verandah chairs, crossed her legs and smiled at me.

“Geezam King, yaw gwaan like yuh nuh glad fi see mi. Sit dung man, and mek wi reason.”

Here I was…dumbfounded. How did she find my house? Why is she here? How is this even possible?

“What are you doing here Lisa?” Words finally came out of my mouth. “How yuh find mi yard?

“Geezam. King, nuh you gimmi yuh address?” She looked at me in disbelief. “Stop gwaan like mi google yuh name and find yuh yard cause a you tell me. Yuh pretty but me is not desperate.”

“I never gave you my address Lisa.” My annoyed tone was active now. “You asked where I lived and out of courtesy, I told you.”

“Well, out of courtesy,” she mimicked, “mi come visit yuh.” She smiled.

“Thanks Lisa but this is not..”

“Yuh nuh have nuh bun in deh?” She asked while attempting to peer inside the house through the windows.

“What?” I was not sure what to make of her question

“Di Miss Birdie Easter bun” she clarified. “Yuh nuh have none in deh?”

I don’t know what offended me more: the fact that this girl invited herself to my house and sat there unashamedly demanding food OR the fact she thought I was ever going to share my soft, divine and flavorful Miss Birdie Jamaica Easter Bun with her again.

I had to lie.

“No Lisa.” I asserted. “Bun done from last week. I gave you the last two…”

I couldn’t finish the sentence because my mouth was in my hands again. What are the odds that the moment I decided to lie to Lisa, my father walked out the house with two thick slices of Miss Birdie Easter Bun?

I was beside myself!

Lisa didn’t say a word. She didn’t even call me a liar. With a devilish smirk on her face, she popped her shirt open, went into her bosom and pulled out foil paper.

“Put mine enah dis.”

My mouth was still wide open.

“Geezam King, di bun nah guh cut itself enuh. Snap snap!”

I had no choice. I got up, went into the kitchen and cut four slices of my precious Miss Birdie Easter bun. I wrapped it neatly in the foil paper she provided and brought it back to her.

“Geezam! Four King? If mi head did fleety mi wudda tink yaw try impress me.” She blushed.

“You can leave now.”

“Ummm…” She said, obviously recognizing the seriousness of the situation. “Ok.” She popped her shirt open again, whipped out a black scandal bag, put the bun inside it, then started walking out.

She bolted the gate, peaked through the grill and whispered, “see you soon boo.”

***
Is Lisa obsessed with Miss Birdie Easter Bun or is she stalking me?

Stay tuned for part three!