The trouble with my cousin Lis is that she does doubt the things I tell she. Like a coupla weeks ago when I email she about a dead chicken hawk hanging on the wire - Guyanese people Abroad so home sick they does crave every juicy detail about things happening here. If ants belch, they need to know what decibel, they want to know what them ants eat to make them gassy. So I describe, via email, the dead chicken hawk to Lis.
“It hanging on the electric wire in front o’ them people house next door. He hanging by one wing, he look like he fry dry, dry. He eyes shet, he beak and head point up to salvation, he legs stick out stiff and straight, he toes pointing downwards to hell.”
Lis enjoy every juicy tidbit. I had to do a Dead Chicken Hawk Watch, give she day-to-day descriptions. Then she ask for photo. As proof. I ignore that morbid request. So (once again) she call me a Pathological Liar. Years ago, she stick that name to me because of the massive padlock.
One day, years ago, when Lis been here, I unlock the humongous, foot-crusher padlock on we grill door to let she in. She double over with laugh, then unfold sheself long enough to ask, “Whe you get that thing from?”
“We buy it at a garage sale that the Georgetown prison had.” I got to admit, that was a lie, I couldn’t help it, the wicked angel on me left shoulder made me do it. Like the time I tell my sister, living Abroad, that Brian Adams coming to perform in Guyana. My sister, a Bryan Adams fan, nearly wee sheself with excitement. Later on I admit to me sis that it wasn’t true. But Lis never know about that one...so, technically speaking, she does doubt me forever because of the one padlock lie.
“I see Prince Charles on Friday night,” I tell she yesterday at the end of a long email.
She fire back, “Where and HOW you see Prince Charles? If he was good looking I'd say it was in your dreams but I know he not cute so weh you see he??? Stchuusp you like to tell lies! You see Prince Charles. WEH??? Eh Eh? WEH???”
You and she might doubt me, but I am here to tell you, I see Prince Charles, the Bonny Prince, on Friday night.
Unfortunately, like Cinderella I got dishes to do and I can’t sit around waiting for no prince to do them for me…so later croc-agators...