fff#75

my very late (and, apologies, mostly unedited, not because i doh care but because, paying deadlines...) fff#75; [inclusions] trigger: seed, feed, weed, bleed, greed/y.

from since i small it had a woman up by we they say was mad because she always used to talk to she garden. i eh mean when she come out to water the plants she tell them morning or evening; i mean full conversation for hours everyday, she outside in she garden in she big, floppy hat, drink in hand, liming with she plants. and at first it was no scene. for years she tend she garden, lime with she plants and mind she business and she eh bother nobody and nobody eh bother she. but yuhknow people fas’, and wha’ they cyah explain they make story about to make less frightening. so wasn’t no surprise to me that when the first person turn up not-quite dead with the mark on they neck already turning black+blue everybody was quick quick to call she name; not that nobody actually know it, or actually have evidence of what they talking but yuhknow in small communities sometimes rumour is all it take for something to get treated like fact.
the second+third persons attacked fare somewhat better; they turn up all the way dead, at least, which considerably easier for all+sundry, logistically speaking. and people realise by the third one, too, that they could (mostly) rest easy; it was clear that victim-selection favoured the least favoured among us. even not-quite-dead morris was better than the morris mrs.morris was trying she bes’ with for donkey-years prior, especially once she figure out not-quite-dead morris eh need a damn thing except to be positioned out of she way when the day come and now she really only hadda mind sheself, and nobody mourn the end of blakie big son who had done nothing but drink and terrorise neighbours since he get big, or sour ms.wylie with she evillous ways.
it was what happen with the 4th+5th victims that first sow seeds of discontent with the “arrangement”. a night mabel decide she had enough of the stupidness and follow bolo when he say he was going and fire one with the boys, to see where she man was really going everynight so.
she say, in a mess of snat+tears nex’ morning, that she follow he to by desiree, and when she see tha’s the door he gone in, was going to turn+go back to she place one time to cry and burn candle, but then something tell she, see for yuhself. so mabel apparently gone round by desiree bedroom window, expecting to catch the two of them in flagrante delicto, and instead get a whole different eyeful. mabel claim she see what look like a small fire blazing in the middle of the room all by itself, with desiree fling to one side, and bolo stand up staring at the fire like he in a trance. mabel claim she see the plants-lady face in the fire, and then the fire move toward bolo and was engulfing him until she cry out from by the window. mabel claim when she bawl out the fire stop swallowing bolo, and she see the plants-lady face again before it rush straight toward her, out the window, knocking down mabel in the dirt, and fly up into the sky. mabel say she run inside, grab bolo, and drag he ass back home.
she call meeting in the morning to tell everybody what she see, and that when she reach bolo home she realise he have puncture-mark turning black+blue, and like he cyah talk, he so out of it she cyah even tell if he understanding when she talk to he. when they check by desiree, they find she just like mabel say, dead in the corner of she bedroom, and of course, puncture done turn black+blue.
one time mabel start: how clearly the plants-lady is a soucouyant, just as she say from since morris, and because bolo had the misfortune to interrupt when she come to feed, even though he’s a good man he get bite too, and how this mean nobody safe, how this mean people cyah afford to sit back and let no soucouyant operate like this because soucouyant judgement not to be trusted, and how if it could happen to bolo it could happen to any of we. and of course mavis answer back that how mabel know that, how mabel so sure bolo wasn’t suppose to get bite too, maybe bolo eh so good as mabel think, after all he was by desiree in the first place, because mavis still vex since she get leave out for mabel years ago. and that start one big fight and nothing get resolve and nobody make no real plan to deal with the situation besides people talking about rice for the floor around their bed, and some declaring certainty in their safety as good people but whispering similar rice-stocks shopping intentions to immediate family members.
me, i was curious about how everybody so sure they know the true identity of we friendly neighbourhood bloodsucking fireball when i know nobody ever even talk to she. so i pick up meself and i gone.
i find she, naturally, outside in the yard, in deep conversation with the plants, discussing the merits of plant- versus animal-based diets for humans and relative impact on the environment, while tending a particular patch of what i swear was the same weeds my mother always had me spend saturday mornings clearing from in-between everything else that manage to grow in our yard. but this woman was minding them, letting them grow huge+tall, already bigger than i had ever seen, bigger than she self. it was like a bush and like a tree at the same time, stretching vines up+out, sprouting flowers all over, finding itself big+strong+beautiful, and i swear it was turning+leaning into her as she move around it, talking, checking leaves for signs of trouble, stroking like she would a loved one.
i didn’t know what to say or do. i had no plan beyond curiosity carrying me to her garden, but standing in the lane watching her communion with plants i suddenly know what i come to do, what i have to do. and i tell her, in a rush, words tumbling out faster than i could control about what people saying because i realise, without knowing why, i on she side. i want she to fight the oldtalk. but instead she just smile. she smile and say, people is people, yuhknow what I mean…
i leave, confused about everything except the sense of dread building when i think about how this go play out.
nex’ fortnight was kenwyn. me eh know if he was just so sure nobody know it was he thiefing from people all these years because nobody brave enough to oppose he massive, drunk ass, but kenwyn take no precautionary measure at all; no rice, so salt, no sand, they find nothing of the sort set out when they check home for kenwyn after he miss work. they find he same way like morris and bolo, but this time the whole place mash up, he things pelt all about, furniture break down, kitchen in a disarray, and kenwyn, already-black+blue bruises all over, not completely drained+dead just emptily staring into an open cupboard with a 5pound bag of rice sitting, unopened, watching he right back.
they say it obvious what went on, that the soucouyant come to bleed kenwyn and he fight back. they say maybe it have something in that. now the planning start in earnest. so i went back by the plants-lady.
this time she smile as she see me, like she was looking out for me, even. she ask if i want to visit with her garden. i say, yes but no, that i come to tell her she have to go, to hide, to fly, to flee, that they coming for she, they know she is soucouyant and they mad vex, more than they frighten.
she smile again and ask if i see she baby, how big the baby getting, and when my confused eye follow her gesture i see the weeds in the corner patch reaching, magnificent, up into the sky, even farther than sun letting my eye follow. and as i looking up, trying to wrap my brain around this plant i accustom seeing as no more than good-for-nothing rubbish to pull out the earth as fast as it sprout, become this incredible tower of foliage, she say she understand, that is her own fault, she shouldna be greedy, shoulda know kenwyn was more than she could take down by sheself and while his bad behaviour was plenty reason, she shouldna let she eye get longer than she belly.
and i still looking up, now trying to reconcile her words with my idea of how soucouyant is, how soucouyant should be, supposed to be, she start to climb. by the time i realise was because the plants-lady climb she way into my upward field of vision and as i keep looking up she keep climbing up and up and up like some jack and the beanstalk madness, except what could actually be more madness than a real live soucouyant climbing into the sky on an overgrown weed to escape…
i stay the rest of the day+night and into the next, looking out. she never come back down.
we never see she again.

walk good.