Brooklyn Masala
Tags: Love And Sex, A Love Story, Abortion

I stand on the London Bridge station platform, staring at the full moon. I admire her ageless beauty, my beautiful moon. harbinger. They say if you walk backwards seven times in a circular motion under a full moon you’ll go mad. Lunar madness. I’m mesmerized by her brilliance. As I stare at her my thoughts travel back in time. A few years back. exact place, exact time. It’s like I’d been standing there for an eternity. Rooted. This a tale is sad tale. all names have been changed to protect the innocent.

I see her in a distance, walking towards me, slow paced, autumn leaves twirling around her feet…

It was another hectic day at the office. surrounded by people who had sold their corporate souls. suffocating. my existence mundane and today’s like any other day. routine. repeatable. uneventful. I sat down, face in my newspaper, blotting out reality with cheap news stories. always bad news. I feel someone sit down in the seat opposite me. I looked up and my heart skips a beat. she was the most beautiful being I’d ever seen. bleached out hair, caramel sundae skin complexion, luscious lips. All Nubian. I couldn’t help but stare. she had this big Sony headphones on, bobbing her head to an unheard beat. easy on the soul. she looked at me and our eyes locked.

“you are very beautiful”

she took off her headphones.

“huh? what did you say?”

slightly husky voice. sexy.

“what’s your name sweetie?”

she blushed. and smiled.

“Brooklyn. Brooklyn Masala”

I’d not heard a less cynical voice in months. I smiled and stared out the train window. I looked up at the moon. my beautiful moon. framed against the sky as the city raced by. harbinger. I turned back to her. she was staring at me. quizzical. a smile crept over her face.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it”

— — — — — — — — — -

we lay by the bay window, locked in each other’s arms, naked as sin and perspiring. it was very hot and we’d been at it. craven, gay abandon. licking, biting, eating. couldn’t get enough of each other. rough yet very passionate sex. the air was thick with the scent of fornication, incense, and ganja. we’d been smoking all day. and fucking each other. uncaring in our lust. spent.

— — — — — — — — — -

“you love my daughter right?”

Strong St. Lucian accent.

“come on mummy what kind of question is that? of course i do”

We all laughed though I was really uneasy with such direct questioning.

“mum leave him alone!”

“I’ve heard of these Nigerian men. to fast”

Again laughter as I sought for words to defend myself. We’d had a very nice Sunday lunch and were clearing the plates. I’d drank my fair share of the wine and was feeling quite tipsy. Not in the right state to defend anything. I and Mum carried the dishes into the kitchen. She put her plates down and turned to face me. I could see where Brooklyn’s beauty had come from.

“I want you to do something for me”

“OK. what?” I asked smiling.

“Sign your name on this wine cork. as a sign of your love for my daughter”

“but” I wasn’t so sure about this.

“Look if you really love her like you say you’ll sign it”

I had no response. I felt bullied. unease. still what harm could it do I reasoned to myself? I signed it and she put it in the top drawer. We washed the dishes and returned to the front room. Mum said she was tired and excused herself. I told Brooklyn nothing about it.

— — — — — — — — — -

We stood in the clinic. She’d been crying all day. I felt like crying but my resolve was absolute. Ever since I found the picture of I, Brooklyn and the unborn child sailing into the sunset. Very well drawn, nicely detailed. That one drawing shook me. I knew I couldn’t do this. I wasn’t ready to be a father. I greeted the initial news with enthusiasm but it was short lived. The whole thing was too much, to early. I knew my course of action signalled the end. Only memories would mark this relationship. As they led her into the theatre she begged I reconsider but my heart was hardened.

— — — — — — — — — -

“You bastard. I knew it was going to turn out like this”

“Look you don’t understand it’s not like that”

“I will deal with you and you’ll come back here begging”

“Don’t threaten me. this is between I and your daughter”

Her family faced off. I was outnumbered. spent. incapable of fighting through the emotional fog. All I could think of was going home and smoking a big fucking spliff. I couldn’t care less how they felt. It was overwhelming. I turned and walked away.

“You’ll see. You’re doomed”

As I walked home that night I realized it was a full moon. I shuddered at the sight of her. my harbinger. I got home, lay on the bed and passed out. The first nightmare was immediate.

— — — — — — — — — -

For weeks after I couldn’t sleep. At the first instance of sleep I’d wake up sweating and very shook. In my dreams babies screamed and cried, begging for mercy at the sight of me. I was always this monstrous figure, wielding a kitchen knife, backing them into a corner. I was waking up bedraggled. In a condition of deterioration. I was losing my mind. couldn’t work. couldn’t eat. dysfunctional. My house was a mess with rubbish strewn all over the place, plates and stuff unwashed. I hadn’t shaved since that day. I saw no way out. But worse bothered me, something that hadn’t fully destroyed what clarity I had left.

In my dreams I felt the presence of something else. An unwelcome presence. Watching. Almost unholy. I couldn’t put my finger on it. This scared me the most. Every time I turned to face it I’d wake up screaming. One morning I decided to confront this faceless torment. I knew this thing was the source of my torment. My punishment for misdeeds. slow execution. I was desperate and needed to do something before I went completely mad. Lunar mad. I walked to a store, bought the strongest Rum I could find and headed home. What I needed to do couldn’t be done at night. I was too afraid. It had to happen that afternoon. I had to sleep. I had to confront this that threatened to take my sanity. Perhaps I was already insane from guilt and fantastic remorse and didn’t even know it. I poured out a mug of Rum. Perhaps I was ready to go. I drained the mug, paused for a minute to clear my throat, grabbed the bottle and guzzled the rest. As I sucked on the bottle greedily I couldn’t care less. I was drunk instantly. The devil’s juice invaded my system. With my senses blown I staggered from the sofa trying to make my way to the bed. I collapsed.

I woke up with a start. I was disoriented. I stared at my watch. I’d been asleep for sixteen hours. The room was pitch dark. Nothing made sense. I realized I was on my bed and couldn’t figure how I had got there. A sense of relief washed over me. I had slept for the first time in three weeks. I was also very hungry. I got up, walked to door and threw the switch. The sight that greeted me scared me witless. All the wallpaper had been ripped off of my bedroom wall. the floor was covered with ripped paper. I looked at my hands incredulously. My hands were covered in blood dripping from my ripped nails. I sank to the floor trembling uncontrollably. But I knew what to do. How to stop this madness.

— — — — — — — — — -

“who is it?”

“me”

“what do you want?”

“nothing. I came to bring the rest of your stuff. and see how you are”

“you know my mum will kill you if she sees you here. she’s upstairs”

“I’ll take my chances.”

she was so beautiful. I didn’t know what to say or do. but I was there for other reasons.

“you look very thin and unkempt”

“Don’t worry about me. Look put your stuff away and lets talk yeah.”

“I don’t want to talk to you. It’s to late for that”

“Look put it away and come back down.”

she regarded me deeply. like she was looking for a sign.

“OK”

“can I pour myself a drink of water?”

“yeah go ahead I’ll be back”

I walked quickly into the kitchen. my heart beating really fast. I had to act. I had to find the wine cork. and very fast. I pulled the drawer and rummaged. my heart stopped. there lay my cork in a small plastic bag with some other stuff. It had all sort of markings on it and few red feathers had been stuck on. My punishment. I quickly pocketed it and made to walk out the kitchen. As I stepped out the door I bumped into her Mum. I almost shrieked. She looked at me, and darted into the kitchen pulling the drawer open. She looked frantically, found nothing and looked up at me. That moment I bolted. She came out the kitchen, grabbing at me, screaming.

“Thief! Thief! I will kill you, bring it back!”

I shoved her aside, breaking free. I broke through the front door into the bright sunlight, running. never looking back. I ran and ran and ran and ran.

The nightmares stopped that night.

— — — — — — — — — -

I saw Brooklyn a few weeks ago. I pulled my baseball cap down low to conceal my face. I feared recognition but I had to gaze upon her face. one more time. The years had taken nothing from her. beautiful as ever. Fine wine. She was wearing a business suit and looking very well. I had heard she is a top director in some company and doing very well. I’m very glad and happy for her. She deserved better from me. I pause. I wonder. What exactly did her mum do to me? Did her mother still wish to harm me?

— — — — — — — — — -

It’s almost full moon…