A Long Drive Home

“The AC eh working sweet heart so forgive me eh. I crack the glass a little so you could get some breeze. But with the heat you giving meh, it mightn make a difference anyhow”.

I look in the mirror just in time to witness a bright yellow grin. The highlights on his teeth remind me of pee stained patterns in the corner of the hawk and spit bars that populate the Curepe stretch. Not places a woman like me should frequent alone but trust me, I’m not no damsel in distress. I cause distress. I’m also not the type of person you expect to see mopping a drop in a taxi like this. Just so you know, I’ve been in BMWs and Audis eh. Imagine I gone from that to this expensive skirt I order online rubbing up on a sweat soaked seat. Steups. My ass reverberates with every bump on pothole as we amble down the highway. This better be worth it.

“But uncle you eh easy!” I shout in mock disbelief. “You eh easy at all.”

My approval boosts his confidence. Up in his seat he sits, straight straight till his belly is pressed taut against the steering wheel. When he thinks I’m not looking, a saliva moistened thumb slicks grey black hair over a smooth bald patch. Like most men, he is under the impression that any interest I have has something to do with him. In two glances the bugger think he have me figured out. One smile and he feel he have me in the bag, I would guess a crocus bag. Ten glances later and he think he knows my taste. The radio changes from 102FM to Hott 93. I guess I look like an Ariana girl. Is true I German Spanish mix but down Trinidad I’m known as “red gyal” or “reds”. Or even “ah veniz” – a drunk man bawl that at me on the avenue a night. He doesn’t realise is Kartel and Popcaan I listen to. It puts me in the mood to do what I have to do.

Staring directly into the rearview mirror, I pull down my curly dougla hair in one smooth motion. I wouldn’t lie, that’s my best move. I wait a few seconds for his eyes to return.

“Oh gosh baby, what you doing meh?” He pleads. “Ah love a woman with long hair you know. Especially when is enough to wrap around and pull.”

“You like that eh?” I tease. “You have the strength to handle thick hair like this still?”

He turned around in mock surprise. “How yuh mean? Doh let this gray fool you eh,” He says rubbing his beard. “Is young blood in these veins.” The car gets revved vigorously as proof of some hidden vigor.

Young blood? I hear bigger cocks crow and is always right before the barbecue. What he know about young blood? I know exactly what type of blood he has. Diabetic and slow, trickling through plaque filled veins like a ravine filled with dark moss and litter. The kind that seeps from a slashed jugular to dramatically paint a white vest in red stripes like the outside of a KFC box. Is the macho ones that does bawl and scream the most. And not before death I talking about eh. When I show them what they looking for, the screaming does start quick quick. When they go to spread the legs, they whole body does go stiff. They does find something different. Something odd. Sometimes I does have to hold them before they drop. Because I eh want them to drop just so. Nah that too quick. Let them run. Run far boy. Run and loss yourself in the bush.

As usual I tell him I living far inside, always somewhere behind God back. Somewhere in Moruga just to mix it up. Can’t be doing business up Paramin and Lopinot right through. News starting to spread and the people up there a little more in tune. They does read bible and ting. A fella even turn he clothes inside out a night and get away. Not like people in the West. If they cyah read it on the Internet, it doh exist. If there wasn’t so busy I would make a killing up there.

Eventually we reach Mon Repos roundabout, both of us eager to get the night’s festivities started. For half hour the car is deathly quiet as we both simmer with anticipation. We barrel down a winding road and above, through a clearing in the thick forest the moon hangs big and bright. It’s the only light we see since we passed Princes Town twenty minutes ago and descend deeper into the bush. Road lights have been non-existent and the darkness and sounds of the night cover us like a blanket. Uncle chooses this time to wind down the glass and smoke a cigarette. I pretend to sleep fully knowing what will come next. Like clockwork I see those red tinged eyes peeping me in the mirror. As expected, the car slows as we head down a gentle incline and comes to a stop next to a bamboo patch.

“Something wrong drive?” I ask with fake concern. The engine whirs as it goes to sleep. I receive a very long pause as my answer.

“Drive?”

He turns and looks at me in the backseat. “Nah is nothing. Your eyes just looking so beautiful in the moonlight.”

I almost laugh. That’s the best he could come up with? Ah old man carries a defenseless woman in the middle of the bush to stop for no reason and he talking bout eyes? Even if I was the regretting type, this would be the end of all regrets.

“Oh really?” I lean forward till my lips are close to his. “So what are you going to do about it?”

He is thrown off by my boldness. It’s clear that he didn’t anticipate me being the aggressor. He lunges in for a kiss, I block his forehead with my hand.

“Not yet.” I say as I slap away his hand. “You eager eh? I want you to feel something first.”

I could tell by his smile that he like the sound of that.

Under the guise of darkness I let the veil slip. No need for pretense any longer.  My true form activates gradually. Creamy, yellow-toned skin fades to a greenish-brown that feels like the sole of a thick leather sandal.  My long, curly dougla hair grows thin and white. The ends fall off and burn away. I have the presence of mind to slip off the shoe on my right leg before it turns into a hoof. On that side, I’m fully cow, from thigh to heel.  I hike up my long skirt and guide his hands to my exposed right leg. I guide his fingers right down the rotting carcass to the hoof at the bottom. With my mask gone, I stare into his face with full evil intent. Pure terror returns my gaze. I plant his hands firmly on the hoof.

“Is this what you want? You like how it feel?”

His body goes limp in reply.

“What de ass!” He exclaims. “What kinda sorcery is this?”

“You feeling it Uncle. Is it nice and fat?”

Uncle falls back on the steering wheel holding his chest. He is vibrating like someone is shocking him.

I am disappointed.

After several moments I check his pulse. Dead. Heart attacks are the worse! I didn’t even get to see him run.