The Jamaican Ninja Bert!!

  “Watch deh! Eh-eeeh!” Bert suddenly said, “Bay ackee leaf pon Bert back. A who ago brush off dem ackee leaf yah fi Bert?” No one answered. With his head down. Bert swung his eyeballs side to side looking if anyone had fallen for the con. Everyone was silent. Bert looked two sides again only moving his eyes and said,

  “Eh-Eeeh Man! Watch deh! Coo pon Bert back, a which one a mi friend dem ago brush it off fi mi.” No one budged. Silence. Bert looked up from the ground.

  “No ackee leaf nuh deh pon your back Bert.”

  Bert didn’t want to hear that, he got angry again and stretched his neck towards Everton.

  “Mi naaw pay fi nuh ackee and half a the tree inna mi yard. Mi prefer chop it dung and bun di limb dem.”

  “Gimmi back mi cutlass.” Everton snagged it out Bert’s hand. “You can want fi wake mi up so early a morning fi borrow mi cutlass fi chop dung mi owner tree. You mad or something?”

  “Alright then, since uno claim seh mi a mad. Go gather up all a di leaf dem outta mi yard. ‘Cause if you a tek all a di ackee, you fi tek all a di ackee leaf too.”

  Clivey butted in,

  “That make sense Everton, a true him a talk. Gwaan go tek up di leaf dem a morning time too then. Jesus loves you.”

  Everton couldn’t take the fact that Bert was right, and he couldn’t win the argument with Bert, he got bitter, “Mi nuh wrong Marj fi a gi you bun.” Everton said, “You mad like.”

  Clivey saw how bitter Everton was and knew Everton was gonna try and pin some crime on Bert sooner or later, that’s how he moved up in rank in the force anyway, framing his friends.

  “Mi wife naaw gi mi nuh bun.” Bert was dusting off his back with fast and busy hands, barely paying any attention to what Everton was accusing Marj of.

  “Of course she a gi you bun. Everybody a talk how dem a see she and a thick hunk of a guy everyweh now since you get mad.”

  “Mi wife naaw gi mi nuh bun. You chat too much. If she did a gi mi bun mi woulda murder the man long time.”

  “Murder?” Everton put on his detective face.

  “Yes murder.” Bert admitted and pushed out his chest. “Mi cold dem way deh. You never know?”

  Everton remembered he was dealing with an insensible man, but he didn’t put murder pass anyone, he took those threats serious. He barely let go of the thought of murder and said.

  “Well a that everybody a seh and mi believe. Why she woulda a want stay wid you?”

  “Because she love mi off.”

  “Love you?! Nobody loves a madman.”

  “Marj love mi though.”

  “Keep dreaming. You a get bun! Everybody inna Shadville know that.”

  Bert’s face changed, his heart sunk and his brain froze in thought. Everton sounded convinced it was true. He was a police, he must be able to differentiate when evidence is true or not. Now Bert’s head was trapped in a thick fur of confusion as to why would Marj ever cheat on him. Why? Was this true or just rumors? It seemed everyone knew except Bert. He looked over to Clivey. He wondered if Clivey knew. Clivey looked away from him, then looked at the ground, eyes searching the ground for nothing.

  “My Marj?”Bert’s voice was weak and almost cracking.

  Everton felt bad though Bert wasn’t sane. He knew that with Bert, things Bert thought about easily floated to the top of his to do list, rather than just thinking about stuff and processing the thought sensibly. He just did things. Whatever his mind told him to do or say, no filtering. Kind of like when you’re drunk and you say how you really feel without any inhibitions or consideration of the consequences to follow. His actions might have been quite theatrical but his reasoning seemed unarguable solid at the bottom line. He should be getting some of the ackee. Everton raised the slack waist of his sponge Bob underpants a little higher, let it go so it slapped on his belly and walked with his head down back into his house. Bert yelled,

  “And mi know you have fish inna you fridge bout a chicken you have. You too lie, Man.”

  Everton didn’t answer.

  “You think mi did a come fi borrow none a you fish dem? Mi woulda never do that.”

  Bert didn’t utter a word to Clivey. He knew he had to get down to the bottom of things and find out if Marj was really cheating on him by any means necessary. He marched off to his house to Marj. He needed to talk to her now.

  A BONUS FOR YOU FROM BERT

  IMPORTANT NOTE TO READERS

  If you just love Bert join his website and hang out on his webpage www.richiedrenz.com/Bert and get a bonus chapters “BERT GOES TO THE GYNAECOLOGIST” which will never be included in this book series only available on his website.

  Also see videos of Bert as soon as they are uploaded to his site. Wouldn’t you love to see him in action though?

  And do participate, answer quizzes about him on there, and what others say about him. Find out how well you know Bert and hear what Bert has to say about things happening in Jamaica and Portia.

  Find out what he finds funny, and what’s happening in his life. Sign up now. It’s a lot of fun and best of all it’s all his free!!! See you over by www.richiedrenz.com/Bert

  Also remember to like his facebook page www.facebook.com/TheJamaicanNinja and my Author’s page www.facebook.com/TheRichieDrenz

  Here’s A Sample Chapter From Jamaican Ninja Book 2

  UNO TELL BERT HOW HIM MONEY GO NOW

  “Bombaawt! What a man skill!! Watch deh! Watch pon Bert Man, Moonwalk! Hey! Moonwalk hey!”

  Bert reached at the bank door before it was open. About six other persons were already at the door in a line waiting to get in. They stood in a line. It wasn’t a very straight line but it was in the order of who reached first. Outside the bank was made of dark tinted glass. Bert looked at his reflection; suctioned in his belly and said,

  “Damn I’m so hot! Look pon deh body yah.” Then smiled broadly with squinted eyes and shine chubby cheeks at the short lady in the executive suit and sunglasses that was standing second in line,

  “What time dem a fly the bank door, ma’am?”

  She looked him up and down, from his head to his yellow push-toe slippers. She stepped back a little, looked him head to toe again in his green tights marked all over with sweat stain, his wig and handbag, then scrunched her face. He smelt like frankfurters. She didn’t open her mouth, she just pointed to the opening and closing hours sign on the glass door. Bert read it, it read ‘8:30’. He asked her,

  “So a wha time now?”

  The lady clenched her handbag tight and didn’t open her mouth. She looked away.

  “Nuh because you see mi inna tights, you think mi mad. I’m a certified doctor. I practiced Psychiatry for seven years before Portia put the tax pon patty.”

  A sweaty face lady in white jog sneakers, one identical to the one Marj wore jogging, breathing hard with a lunch bag in her hand and new handbag jogged up the stairs to the bank door, banged on opening hours sign on the glass door in a hurry and said,

  “Jesus, 8:27, mi late bad.”

  She had on a navy blue executive looking uniform and coffee colour stockings. She knocked the door in a terrible haste again and said,

  “Why Bruce nuh come open the door Man.”

  She slid off her running sneakers and put on her heels as she watched Bruce strolling instead of hurrying to the door.

  Bert saw the Scotiabank logo stitched on her vest. She wiped the sweat off her forehead with her bare hand middle and flashed the sweat off her hand.

  “Watch how Bruce a tek him own likkle time, Man.”

  Bert decided to offer her some help and put his lips above the black iron door handles, right at the middle where the double door closed together and had a slight space between the doors. He shouted through the kiss of the doors.

  “Hey fat boy Bruce, walk up nuh. And stop bounce suh when you a walk like you have gun, a just one baton with one string pon the top inna your side pocket. Mi map that out long time.”

  Everyone outside looked at Bert wi
th some scorn.

  Bert didn’t look back at everyone. He only looked at the short executively dressed lady and asked,

  “You know seh mi a wonder if deh sunglasses deh a just fi style? Because all now the sun nuh come out yet and you well boasy and cockatity inna your sunglass. Gimmi a try-on off a it nuh mek mi see if it fit mi round face.”

  The short lady held her neck stiffly straight and did not utter a word to Bert.

  “A wha? You nuh think seh your darkas ago fit mi?”

  The lady still didn’t speak to Bert.

  The security hurriedly opened the door to let in the sweaty forehead banker lady.

  Bert was in a haste to find out what was really happening with his money in his account. Who took it out? He knew it would be disrespectful to skip pass everyone and go to the front of the line. But he couldn’t go to the back either because he was the one who called the security.

  Some customers who were in their vehicles got out and walked up the bank steps to the entrance as it was less than a minute to eight thirty now. Some were double –checking their watches or smart phones as they walked up the steps to the entrance and joined the line making it thrice as long as before.

  Bert double-checked the time on his Nokia 3310 then just stood there staring at the long line and him nowhere in it, the bank seconds away from opening. No one tried to make eye contact with him to give him a cut in front them in the line. Bert had adamantly decided he wasn’t going to join at the back. He needed to know his correct bank balance.

  Bert stood there silent, staring at the people in the line and trying to figure out where in the line he truly belonged, apart from the back. No one stared back at him, everyone ignored him. He reasoned to himself that since it would be unfair to go all the way to the front and more people out of their vehicles had crowded the line now before Bert had joined it, the best thing to do was to take second place in front the short lady.

  “Step back likkle ma’am, a dah space yah a my space.”

  The lady stepped one small step up closer to the Chiney man at the front of the line instead of stepping back and scrunched her face distastefully at Bert. Something was tempting Bert so much. He wanted to grab the sunglasses off her face and try it on. He resisted the temptation. He was here on money business, not ‘America’s Next Top Model’.

  “Lady, you hear mi ask you nicely, gimmi back mi space.”

  An office gentleman, two people down behind the lady removed his cell phone from his ears and shouted,

  “But bredda you nuh just come. Go a di back a di line.”

  Bert looked all the way down the length of the long line then took on the guy.

  “Sir, you see mi a wear tights and wig? You think mi a one normal Man? Why you’d want provoke mi?”

  ‘Clu-clu-clung.’ The sound of the iron lock opening to the spin of the key in the door. Everyone straightened up.

  Bruce flew the door open and the argument dropped between every one, and despite the line they formed and obeyed outside, they all hurried through the double glass door in no order, but rather a hustle. Obviously no one was faster than Bert.

  As big as his belly was, he was at the front of the customer service line. The sweaty forehead lady’s forehead wasn’t sweaty anymore. It was dry and cool. It seemed she’d dried it with a piece of tissue and rubbed it too hard when she was wiping her forehead, because a overwhelming portion of tissue’s flints and small white rolly rolls were scattered across the acres of her forehead. She was unaware her forehead was full of small bits of toilet tissue paper. She was the first to ding her buzzer, number six lit up. Bert said aloud,

  “Why a mi affi get call from the ugliest teller?”

  The short lady who was still wearing her dark sunglasses would get the other customer service rep beside Bert. He contemplated that if he wasn’t in such a haste, he’d let the short lady behind him go in front of him. But said to himself, ‘She affi dead first. Mi naaw gi the lady behind mi nuh skip, you remember when mi beg her a skip outta door how she did a gwaan.’ The lady heard everything he said to himself. She turned her nose up. She didn’t want any skip from him.

  Bert finally decided to go the customer-service rep that dinged him. As a display of Bert’s flexibility, he turned his back to the customer service area and moon-walked half way over to the customer service desk. The other half of the floor was a stiff bristly ash-grey carpet which made it hard for him to drag his foot bottom on the floor and moon walk smoothly. It looked stupid trying to moonwalk on the carpet. So he stopped the moonwalk, turned around and walked normal. Smiling with the customer service reps he asked,

  “Uno see that?”

  No one answered. While walking to the tissue forehead woman, he was puzzled no one answered. They must have seen his moonwalk. Maybe he had to do it again.

  “Uno never see dat awhile ago?”

  No one answered.

  “Nobody not even glimpse when mi a dweet?”

  No one answered.

  Bert reversed his steps to where no carpet was so he could get a smooth backway slide and said,

  “Uno look yah! Uno look yah!”

  He turned his back to them now to begin the moonwalk and peeped over his shoulder to see if they were watching. Everyone was.

  “Uno a watch? Uno watch? Watch yah now enuh.”

  Bert start to do the moonwalk neat and cheering on himself, saying,

  “Bombaawt! What a man skill!! Watch deh! Watch pon Bert, Man. Moonwalk! Hey! Moonwalk hey!”

  Nobody else cheered along for Bert. Nobody else was even looking at Bert anymore, until he stumbled over and landed on his face.

  He was trying to moonwalk on the carpet and dropped ‘Boof!’ right on his face. Jaw connecting and spread flat onto the rough carpet. Bert got a little dizzy. Bruce grabbed his baton and ran towards Bert to help him up. But by the time Bruce had moved off Bert had flicked up and started to walk perfectly straight and casual about his business, pretending he hadn’t drop and as if no one really saw that he had dropped. No one wasn’t even sure to how quick he got back up.

  “Oh God!” Bruce gasped. Out of concern he asked, “You alright?”

  Bert replied, “You too excited, weh you a run come to mi suh fa?”

  “No, it was just because I saw you fall on your face, I thought …”

  Bert asked, “You see mi drop liad?”

  “You never just drop awhile ago?”

  BOOK 2 CHAPTERS –

  NEW TIGHTS

  “Bert you a go look like a living poppy-show.”

  “A dat mi want. Mek mi look like a mascot galang. Just mek it!”

  STICKING UP POSTERS

  “Watch yah nuh. Watch yah nuh Clivey. A slimmers something dem yah enuh.”

  BERT LYRICS A SKETEL

  Where is Bert? She wondered. What trouble is he in? What is he doing now? Marj had diarrhea.

  BERT MADE A WISE DECISION. OR NOT?

  “Hahaha . . . Woooiie! . . . you funny, mi like you.”

  “Clivey you hear she seh she like mi?”

  HOW TO GET BACK TWO POINT SEVEN MILLION

  The smile went shut instantly from under Clivey’s nose.

  “Not even one a that naaw go sell Bert.”

  GUESS WHO OR WHAT BERT DISGUISED AS?

  “You couldn’t just put on a beard and a glasses? Why you always affi so extra?”

  BERT STUBBORN, HIM NAAW BATHE

  “Raaaeee!!! …. You want bathe your husband, but Bert too nasty. Mi naaw bathe.” He turned his back to her, “You could a bawl blood.”

  HOW BERT GET FI WEAR GRANDMA FALSE TEETH

  “You never bend di corner and see mi siddung pon di white line long time?”

  BERT WANT A BUS STOP

  “Lawd what a man nasty.” A shocked little girl bawled out, “Him nyam the icy mint from under him arm.”

  UNO TELL BERT HOW HIM MONEY GO NOW NUH

  “Bombaawt! What a man skill!! Watch deh! Watch pon Bert, Man. Moonwalk! Hey! M
oonwalk hey!”

  IN THE BANK

  Bert grew extremely upset and was fighting to get back out his chair. The chair was tight around his hips. He was baffling and biting his lips. He was going to box her. It was very necessary…

  BERT HOME FROM BANK

  “Majorieeee, I made a dinner for you-whoooo.”

  BERT GOT MARJ, NOW WHAT?

  She yelled, “I hate you! I hate you Bert! Get out!”

  IMPORTANT NOTE TO READERS

  Which one u think will be your favourite of Bert? Let us know on Bert’s official Website.

  If you just love Bert join his website and hang out on his webpage www.richiedrenz.com/Bert and get a bonus chapters “BERT GOES TO THE GYNAECOLOGIST” which will never be included in this book series only available on his website.

  Also see videos of Bert as soon as they are uploaded to his site. Wouldn’t you love to see him in action though?

  And do participate, answer quizzes about him on there, and what others say about him. Find out how well you know Bert and hear what Bert has to say about things happening in Jamaica and Portia.

  Find out what he finds funny, and what’s happening in his life. Sign up now. It’s a lot of fun and best of all it’s all his free!!! See you over by www.richiedrenz.com/Bert

  Also remember to like his facebook page www.facebook.com/TheJamaicanNinja and my Author’s page www.facebook.com/TheRichieDrenz

  REFLECTION

  Ok Drenzers,

  Some of the situations, well not some, most of the situations in this book have been exaggerated out of proportion. But in reality, there are people out there hoping and praying their lover will recover from something. Some illness that they have to try and deal with and it puts them through so much pain to watch their love one go down the drain to cancer, or an heart disease, or diabetes or pressure or whatever illness that they have to be there by their love one for. Sometimes it takes some much out of them, sometimes it costs them more than what they have. But what to do, more than to have faith.