by Richard Rawlins
The tyres on the vehicle bumpity bumped their way upon the grooved in roadway of the state funded circumvented enclosures of political prosperity and working class despise. Here upon this hilltop in a rejuvenated Paramin of almost Ramon Navarroesque yesteryear except for the hidden trap guns of ganja farmers, agricultural wooden toolsheds and crocus bag scarecrows, I saw her.
I saw her. The huge obesity of a woman. Indian in all her glory. Her foot black from traversing the sturdy concrete road. Solid in frame like an oak tree in a Yankee Christmas movie. A large ass. wide and big and dropping and fat and very obese. Oh largese. Breast swinging, unchained and un-trapped and free and bra less, without concern. Nipples forcing a point in their sweaty tunic of a dress. laden with flowers, clinging to her shiny greasy skin in the noon day heat. Then her matted-hair head raised as we saw her. “Good day”, my gay friend and his Indian indecisive roadtrip companion said in unison. “Good day”, she replied. “Good day”, I said looking longingly like I wanted to be face deep in those huge thighs. Panty less I thought as her body shifted slightly to reveal in the monstrous shadow she casted that ran the length of the scratched out red dirt front yard all the way to her little board and galvanize home just edging the bamboo, a child. A “lickle” grubbiness of a child. A dougla. A child no more than three playing in dirt with a stick and a pan. With a kind of white dry milky ring around his mouth. How mundane I thought . What an exsistence…but then that is youth isn’t?. Carefree.
“Let me out here please…” I said to my friends. “Why?” said my gay friend with the semi possibly gay and indecisive Indian roadtrip companion. “Because I think I love her.” I countered. “What the fuck ‘rong wid’ you?!!” the indecisive Indian shouted. “Jus fuckin’ so…like you mad or wat?” At that point I opened the door and decided to get out the vehicle. My gay friend steuppesed. mumbled something as I left the car and pulled the car over to the side of the road next to the bamboo patch adjacent to the squalid abode.
I approached the huge obesity of my sexual arousal and now growing physical and mental curiosity questioning in my mind what I was about to do. I approached her she smiled at me. “Hi“ I said. “Hello” she replied flashing me a smiling row of crooked yellow coloured teeth. “Can I fuck you?”, I said.
The smile gone from her face her black lips curled in disbelief and she spat out at me. “Mister like you ent see meh chile dey.”
“ Sorry”, I responded, staring at her pendulous breast that seemed slightly wet from sweat and maybe lactation. “My mistake”, and headed for the car.
“Wait!!! , we could go inside and fuck if yuh like. My mister doh come home til later.
And the boy he kinda behbeh he not go go nowhere.” “Come nuh”, motioning me inside as she began raising up the back of the old tattered dirty frock business of a dress revealing her big black dimpled mosquito pockmarked ass.
“Ok”. I said, “sure”.
“But wait”, she said, “you have eighty three dollars and seven cents?”