Confessions of a Dying Woman:10:Country Edition

 

Dear Mass Rupert,

I don’t even know why I am bothering to write you this letter when I know that you are not so right in the head. Nevertheless, I want to clear my sin bill before I go home to my maker. Mass Rupert, I'm not sure what happened to you, for you to go off the rails until you start talking to the animals and trees. A few months ago I watched you have a whole conversation with a Mahoe tree about how your horse is looking at you funny and laughing at you because you were talking to your cow. As I watched you tied the cow to the tree, I was so frightened when the cow moo and you moo right back.

 

I don't know Mass Rupert, but something is not right from that time you drop asleep under the coconut tree and one drop in your head and knock you out. Mass Jasper find you in the late evening when him go fi him goat them. The one Bev,  say that all your senses roll way with the coconut down the hill. I told her that wasn't a nice thing to say because if dem did teef all my money I would be a mad house production too.

 

 

But Mass Rupert, it's hard to feel sorry for you enuh because if you never did so mean you probably wouldn't lose all  of your money. You not even throw offering a church. Every time that you know is offering time, you put up one finger and head out of church. It was rather a foolish idea to put all of your money in a shet pan and bury it. You should a know say the people dem in the district is very fass and love watch people business. So of course somebody watch you and see when and where you bury the money. I don't like to call people name or meddle in people's business, so it's no concern of mine if I hear Bev  and other people say that is the bald head man with the one ear and  the wart on the corner of him top lip teef you money. Don't  know how truth it is because I never help him and I learn from a long time to mine my own business. Even though me hear say, that same man was trying to steal the very horse that bite off him left ear but mek me left that alone. 

I really hope that enough of your senses is left back in that small head of yours to read this letter, so you don't have to ask your dressmaker wife Dorothy and son Hansel to read it for you. After all, letters are a private thing. Speaking of  Hansel who is such a lovely young man, I wonder how you took the news and if is that help to mek you no act so sensible.  I didn't know at all Mass Rupert. If I didn't hear with my own two ears on that blessed Christmas dinner evening I would have never believed it. It seems as though too much rum was in the sorrel  that night and Dorothy mek it leave her mouth that Hansel was  Mass George's son and not yours. I don't know how one woman could be so wicked, to sleep with her husband father. I can't imagine how you must did feel shame like a magga dog to find out that your son who you raise from he was a wee bit is really your brother.I am sure that Mass George must did tell you because that is not a secret a father should carry to him grave.

Any who, Mass Jasper, I have a very small confession to make. Do you remember that Christmas dinner that we had a few years ago? You were still in your senses back then. That Christmas dinner was one to remember, especially the pork, roasted, barbecued and stewed. That Christmas, my contribution to the district Christmas dinner was my big fat pig Hoggy that I had bought specifically for that purpose, so when I saw the pig in my vegetable garden that faithful morning I just figured that Hoggy got away because he sensed that he was gonna be butchered that day. Mass Norman the butcher came, and took the pig away and returned later that day with the cleaned  pig tripe (intestines) which I put over my creng creng to be smoked. That pig tripe was cooked with some beans and I  fried some with some ackee.

 Needless to say, the pig that was butchered and eaten at the Christmas dinner was your beloved pig Mass Rupert. I remembered that you were saving that pig for your jacket son/ brother wedding. I was even there with the other people in the village helping you look for your pig. What happened was that I was passing by the pig pen to pick some mint to make a cup of tea because gas was in my knee when I saw my pig still in the pen. Imagine my surprise Mass Jasper when I found my pig dead as knit in the mud with a mackerel  tin stuck in its throat. It’s like the fool fool  pig was trying to lick out the mackerel tin. I still don't know how mackerel tin reached there.  

Mass Jasper, it was an honest mistake, because the two pig dem look alike. Them had the same eyes, same foot, same everything. It's not like your pig was wearing a name tag for me to identify him. I really wanted to tell you Mass Jasper when I saw you at the Christmas dinner, but you go back  for a third plate of pork and you couldn't stop talking about how it was the best pork that you ever had while you lick off your ten fingers dem.

 

Mass Jasper, I am sorry that I didn't tell you that you ate your own delicious pig. Forgive me you hear.I didn't have the heart to tell you, especially since your head was going shortly after that.  Maybe you can take comfort in knowing that I am going to meet my maker before you. I have a few common fowl running around the place when the time comes, you can tek them in exchange for the pig.

I would invite you to my funeral, but next thing your head go tek you and you mash up my pretty casket that my daughter from Kingston will be buying. So take care and ask Pastor James to pray for the safe return of your senses, because that is no way to live talking to animals and trees. May the Lord guide and protect you and be your rock and refuge and strong tower.

Your Neighbor 

Miss Madge