things that happen

hexaflexagons blow my mind...(and yes, still read that link after watching video)  
and this story: i with acosta by brooklyn bar the other night; we been having our informal production meetings there, right...
earlier the night he say he supposed to see his cousin too, so she'll probably join us at some point; i say, no scene. so we by brooklyn; reach before 8pm, neither of we trying to lime whole night; is meeting-with-drinks, lime-with-cuz, ride out.
so we good lime before the cousin reach; she take she time, but she's a hot ting so me eh vex. we jibbin, and as i think we starting to wind down, she man, a spanish, reach, so lime on. when we finally leaving brooklyn i walking to acosta car assuming i going home and take off these damn clothes, until i pick up on the old talk in the road that we now going for doubles. which mean the avenue.
me eh vex. we eat a doubles, then acosta bawl, lewwe fire 1more at he spot down the road. i say, once i reach to teach my gremlins tomorrow, anything could happen tonight. so we walk down, liming outside fabi's when acosta phone ring, is he brother, and all i hear is something like, "watching your taillights pass me..." so as the brother realise he right by us, he find a park and find us. lime on.
a little later, acosta-cousin-spanishman say he pardner coming, me eh even study it; more people me eh know- i mean, i know acosta and kinna know the little brother, but the hot ting cousin and spanishman new to me so 1more is nothing. we joined by a kinna prettyboy indian with a bottle of vodka he sharing, and as fabi's ready to close and chairs locking up inside he say he bringing his truck closer for us to sit. i walk with him by the gyro man to get grapefruit juice to chase, he bring the truck right by the corner, we hop in the tray. lime on.
1time i make out he calling acosta-cousin-spanishman "half breed" and i fall in, because when the man reach earlier, the 1st words i hear from him was spanish, and he talk spanish like he look, like a real south american, so i say he's one of them venezuelans or colombians t+t full of and eh study it no further, until the man start to talk english and sound trini to the bone! he talk like he born+raise here, so now me eh even know where he actually from. so i entertaining myself with halfbreed and ponging he prettyboy friend under what kinna self-respecting indian he is with dogtags carrying name like andy chris [ridiculously-common-indian-lastname] and driving a truck but not maintaining a cutlass as his standard weapon (he bring up his weapon-of-choice, not me; pong ensued as necessary)...he holding up his end of the old talk and i enjoying the lime, when he propose, lewwe go south and take a smoke with he boys...and i decide i feeling for an adventure...
me eh know wha' madness take me, but i feeling to adventure...i tell the prettyboy indian i hadda be back home+functional in a timing because i have gremlins to teach and nothing can jeopardise that; he say he hadda teach too then going offshore, so we safe. i study that me eh know this dude, or even the dude who introduce me to this dude just now, or the hot ting that introduce me to halfbreed that introduce me to this dude. but i single, freelancing, have no chick nor child and nobody to study me, so i could go south, ent...so i mentally give myself until the lighthouse to make a final decision, and say yeah, lewwe go.
i hug up acosta, jump in the truck frontseat and we drop hot ting and halfbreed by their ride. so we going down the road and i talking, liming like is nothing, leaning against the door with the handle in easy reach, as physically far as i can be from the potential predator without being obvious, reminding myself, stop-drop+roll, because yeah he seem cool, but how the arse i go know?
we approaching the lighthouse and i asking myself if i sure i doing this, because this is the kinna adventure, when they find my dead body they go say, but why the hell a smart girl like she would do something so stupid as to go down south with a stranger after midnight? but with no risk, no adventure, and then i have no stories to tell, so i decide the watchword of the moment is vigilance, and i going through hard.
flying down the highway, he still seem safe, lime nice, his south-boy roots showing as he being super-polite and checking that i comfortable+content every minute, he have me on his phone updating he boys angel+buju with our progress so they could have the smoke ready when we reach...everything is everything and i liking meself, until we pass chaguanas and then he bawl, "ahm...i feel like i should tell you...i's [notorious local gangster+murderer executed by the state 15ish years ago] son..."
shocked silence as i contemplate if/how/when my mother will find my body and how i shoulda know an adventure like this could only end in disaster, because clearly, i am the night's entertainment and when my purpose fulfilled, i's to be disposed of...prettyboy indian looking at me sorrowfully, apologising, asking if i scared, if he shoulda tell me before, if i ok...me eh even know what to say and cyah figure out why he even playing nice with me when he done have me almost in south, alone in his truck...
he promise he not trying to hurt me, guarantee my safety, inform me we packing heat (not reassuring to me, but he try he best), say he just like me and wanted to lime with me some more and wanted his boys to meet me because they would like me, and nothing bad will happen to me. i find my tongue and let him know all that better be true because if anything bad happen to me, gangster-family or not, he will not survive the wrath of my mother. he laugh, tension ease, we continue liming, albeit me a little more cautious, back to leaning on the door handle, and readying to bbm a pardner just to make sure somebody besides acosta know what situation i in...
we reach gasparillo, drive down a mostly-unpaved trace and park, and angel there waiting, a short darkskin dread with glasses, 3quarter jeans and vest, spliff, drink, ice+cups on the small plastic table, and prettyboy indian leave me with angel to go for buju. me+angel backtrack to the rise in the trace under the lone streetlight for me to better take in the gorgeous view, and when i hear voices again and look up, is to see the prettyboy indian pushing a next dreadlocks in a wheelchair up the bumpy incline towards us. buju.
me and the boys real lime under the tree in the yard by angel, prettyboy pong me for being scared to be out with him, we smoke, they hand me more to clean and we roll again and again, me and the boys get along, everybody glad, i having a time being in a different place, different space, different vibes, enjoying the indian and his friends, enjoying the novelty and danger of the situation...a little before sunrise the indian ask me if i want to watch the sun rise over the water, and i say yes.
we put buju+chair in the truck and they take me to petrotrin, where we drive through the golf course and all the grounds, go by the wildfowl trust where we  pause to take it all in, like we do by the lake/pond/whaever...it's beautiful, except for the nagging thought that this is when the disposal-of-me happens, my body left for the caimans to render unrecognisable...
we go to the broken down jetty, wheel buju as close to the edge of the sea as we can, talk about angel's son, the indian's father, my gremlins, their friendship, as the sun comes up...beautiful. peaceful. worth it...
we eventually go back to drop off angel+buju; on the way we passing a bar where las' night still going hard and a girl setting up a chair outside for a broad daylight "chair wine"- the night doh have the same appeal once sun rise on it, eh- they stop to hail a pardner, and as the pardner leaving the truck, the indian say, "give the princess, the empress, something to hold, nah..." and unnamed dude come around to my window and hand me a fistful of grass. i thank him, bemused, buju ask if i have papers; i say no, he turn around and hand me some sheets with smile, "now you have everything you need..."
we take them home and leave for town.
exiting the trace, we see a young woman walking out for a taxi to work, the indian stop and offer her a ride. when she drop out, i ask, how dangerous is that? how well known is he in his hometown nowadays? does her youth mean she won't recognise him, but her older brothers might? her mother? would her father decide this was the time to revenge the indian's father's sins and i get caught in the crossfire? how the neighbourhood feel about he+family? he could go anywhere or only by angel+buju? it actually more dangerous liming with him in town or in gasparillo? we start talking serious, about his father's life+times, his feelings about his father, his father's hanging in his teens, life afterward, his brother being out of the country and told never to return, his mother "packing more heat than any of we" and wishing he would leave the country too, for his own safety...he cried in my lap halfway up the highway and i, in a rare turn, was  at a loss for words...what to say to somebody crying over the execution of his father who had cold-bloodedly delivered the same sentence on others for nothing as heinous as his own crimes?
i reach home safe+sound after an absolutely lovely night/morning, in more than enough time to ready for my gremlins. the prettyboy indian was a perfect gentleman, constantly concerned whether i was having a good time, whether i want anything else/more/different, whether he could do anything to increase my enjoyment, whether i felt safe+secure, and he never once crossed any line, obvious or unstated...i couldn't ask for a better time with a relative stranger whose friendship could get me killed...when he come back onshore, maybe we'll lime again...
walk good.