Four Eyes | Page 2

his driveway. He parked to
the right of the out-of-control hibiscus bush and just to the left of the
brand new Acura he hardly ever had time to drive. The Acura was
painted a glossy gold, fully tricked out with rims, low ground effects,
tinted windows, and a spoiler. The twelve-inch speakers in the back had
once cracked the rear window.
He knew the car was an extravagance. He had bills to pay, large ones
that he owed doctors who had done surgery on his granddad. But since
he'd been a kid Manny wanted a car like this. Something that said he
was someone, not just a taxi driver ordered around by tourists.
When he got out of the van, Manny took a deep breath.
The sun disappeared just over the galvanized tin roof. It sent streamers
of clouds out in all directions, and random bands drifted around the sky
like streaks of brilliant colored cotton candy. They started rosy at the
horizon, and graduated all the way to off-white over his head.
"Manny," his grandfather called from inside the house. "You late."
"Yes, G.D."
Manny walked up to the door. The house needed painted. Jagged flaps
of aquamarine made the outside walls look like they'd caught some sort
of scaly disease. His grandfather backed the wheelchair away from the
doorjamb as Manny walked in.
"What happen?"
"Some white girl step in front the van."
G.D picked up his glasses with unsteady hands. Once they were on he
looked out into the driveway and blinked his super-magnified eyes.
"The girl okay?"

"No." Manny had stood with the police and answered question after
question, and signed his name to documents. And strangely enough he
stayed calm throughout it all, despite the shaky feelings he was sure
would come later.
"You supper up by the microwave."
Manny shook his head. He emptied his pockets and tossed everything
into a decorative terra-cotta dish at the edge of the kitchen counter. He
pulled the stupid piece of rope off his wrist and threw it on top of the
card the obeah man had given him.
"I don't feel hungry," he said. He walked out of the kitchen and passed
the door to the guestroom. Still locked, he saw with relief. He and G.D
stayed out of there. Ever since last year. Ever since after his
grandmother's funeral.
The continuous whine of the wheelchair just behind him gave Manny
the feeling that G.D and the machine were stalking him. He walked the
rest of the way down the hall, past G.D's room to his bedroom. The
doorknob felt cool to the touch.
When the door creaked open wind sucked in and slightly moved the
drapes.
The white girl, in pink leather pants, Gucci sunglasses hanging by her
neck, sat motionless on the chair next to Manny's bed.
"Oh God, oh no," he said. Suddenly unable to breathe he stepped back
and tripped over the wheelchair. The concrete wall smacked him in the
back of his head and the world jumped to the left.
G.D pulled his cane out of the side of the wheelchair and pointed it at
Manny's throat. He held the business card up in front of him, the name
'Jimiti' still large in the center of the card. G.D glanced quickly into the
room. He licked his lips.
"She the girl you run over?" G.D asked, his voice wavering.

Manny nodded.
G.D pushed the card forward at him.
"The card here, it for real?"
Again, Manny nodded. He glanced into the room. The girl hadn't
moved. G.D reached out with the cane and pulled the door closed with
energy Manny hadn't seen from him in years. His eyes bulged behind
the glasses, and a bead of sweat ran down his papery cheek.
"Go call the man on the card."
"Why?" he asked, still fuzzy.
G.D smacked Manny's leg with the cane.
"Ever since you was just a little child you had go around vexing people
with you questions," G.D hissed. He lashed out with the cane again,
and it bit down into Manny's shoulder. "Just call the man."
Manny grabbed the cane and wrenched it away from G.D.
Still breathing heavily he walked back to the kitchen. He ran the tap,
water pooling in his cupped hands until it spilled over his fingers into
the sink, and splashed water on his face. He looked down at the card.
Jimiti, the card still said. But in the corner it now showed the words:
Duppy removal and other services.
#
Days passed for Manny. Days of driving taxi, but not paying attention
to the small winding roads around the coast. He drove all up and down
the fourteen miles of St. Thomas, up the spine of the mountains into the
small patch of rain forest, and