Shake What Your Mama Gave You

the image is that of people dancing and having a good time
Photo by Vonecia Carswell on Unsplash

We settled down to enjoy the early evening on my porch. Apparently, John was not in any hurry to leave, and Judah was with John, so he wasn’t in any hurry to depart either.

My dogs had quickly gotten accustomed to the two men, and settled themselves at their feet, except Dora, her position was within reach of Judah’s magic fingers so that he could scratch her belly every now and again. She had died and gone to that doggy heaven in the sky. The look on her face was one of orgasmic bliss. I felt envious of my dog.

Mystic Man caught my glances. It must have been that the look on my face was obvious because he gave me a quick wink and a smile as if to say, I can take you there as well….

I did go someplace with Mystic Man — that time inside the house, that time when we met ‘the others.’ I was in no real hurry to return.

Our conversation touched on everything including the weather, which was quite strange these days. This was normally the drier time of the year but we have been getting a lot of rain. A few days ago, it rained for an entire night. By the morning, the plants were drunk with delight.

Given that so many farms on the island were still rainfed, small producers must be smiling all the way to the market with their crops.

We talked about the local political scene and the elections that were soon due. The atmosphere surrounding this was stranger than the weather.

So who do you think will win, John?

Before John could respond, a sudden blast of loud music erupted into the quiet evening, startling my guests and causing another barking frenzy from my dogs.

What de mudder….?” John.

I laughed. “There is a fete down the road later tonight. I guess the band is warming up.

Well dey cold like day-old cornmeal porridge,” muttered John. “I remember when music was music — nice, nice. It mek you want to dance and shake wha you marmy* gi you. Now I can’t even understand wha dey playin.

I understood what John was saying. The music you grew up on always seem to be the real deal, while parents and elders always sang the same tune, what are you listening to? That is not music!

Music was really in the ears of the listener.

So wha time these parties usually finish?

Around 3am, if we are lucky.

Everything inside will be rocking and shaking to the noise, err….music, coming from loudspeakers that were as big as small houses. Sleep was going to be a dream tonight.

Well, you can always come to the foothills with us,” offered Mystic Man. “the music up there is much sweeter.

I pretended not to hear him.

I. Trudie Palmer
One Love

*Creole English for mother

(I hope you read last week’s story given that we picked up from there. If not, all 16 or so episodes are on my personal blog or under the upfulness tag)



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Ilis Trudie Palmer

Ilis Trudie Palmer


Energy, Creativity, Spirituality, the Great E.S.C; One dose of upfulness in each story or poem or song lyric. https://esotericgardenskn.com