#89 Jenks-Fish with their Eyeballs staring Out

"Alright, I got the files, now what else did Jenks have in store for  me? John looked down at his blackberry, a text came in; "bring me some fish", it said.

"Fish", thought John, hmmmmmm where can I get my hand on some fish? And then John thought, "Its about time, I used my foreign attitude to my advantage."  

I've got just the place for fish.... and looking down at his rented shoes, John headed to Sun Market, most were familiar with it, sitting on the edge of a strip mall where "Tropicana foods" used to be.

He went in and headed straight towards the back, whole fish with their eyes still in them sat in their crates, and John grabbed two of them, while other customers with their childen in tow sitting in hand-reachable carts spanned their hands out in plain view, touching the fish and their scaley backs.   In the middle of the market stood the  Lobster crates, small aquariums that were also dangerously low,  sat along the deli section.  Lobsters barely moving, with their eyes making out as attenaes; observing these children, who plucked their glasses and "tinged" them, awaking them from their habitual sleeping hour.

 "Putting together an arraignment of food? Are we Jenks?" thought John, and with that he headed to veggies section with veggies that were Asian, with foreign names; unrecognizable to any American eyes.  This market  was filled with Mexican bakery goods, tofu, bamboo shoots in cans, everything you could think of in plastic or glass jars; kimchee, sour pickles, sour vegetables, sitting in their sour liquid jars.

 Long aisles of assorted candy, candy not-so-sweet for the American teeth, candy that consisted of jellies and things. Little stalls where you can buy rice wrapped in banana leaves or sesame seed balls. John picked out a few assortments of these to go along with Jenks' fish.


Earlier post on Jenks


http://trincarl07.blogspot.com/2010/07/very-disciplined-shelia-sheila-could.html

Derrick, Not a Creature was Stirring Not even a

"Misty did what?" Derrick awoke from his half comotose setting and sat straight up in his leather plush sofa as he had overhead a message on his machine, that said that Misty got her momentum back and was putting on a hot little dance.

"oh, no she di -n't" said Derrick half to himself.  He looked around, knowing his glass of Alaze was somewhere, but half knowing this morning it was all black coffee or nothing.  He got up and half screamed at the leftover bile on the sofa.  " Pud-giiiiiiiiieeeeee". Pudd-giieeeeeeeeee bring your a@# over here right now and clean this shi% up would you?" Pudge just walked in, smoothed his shirt down, and told Derrick his messages.  I told you NEVER to answer my phone." Derrick's regaling would go on forever if Pudgie didn't think of something to distract him. We'd better going, said Pudgie in a half whisper.

Sandra-Betty Boop Top

"The piece is fine, but i think i will need one more taste of Mideastern food to tie up the loose ends and put it together"

Sandra yawned, sat upright in her chair; her tight denim jeans and thin legs coming close together and getting up, she looked at her long black hair in the mirror, matting it down a couple of times, and taking a brush through it, she dashed a thin line of mascara through her dark brown eye lids, and smacked her lips after adjusted her dark red lipstick.  She dashed down the stairs, taking her small sweater and her notepad, and jumped in her Betty Boop car on the way to Lala's house.  Her friend's Mom was always home, but Lala, she wasn't so sure. Her apartment was smack dab in the middle of downtown Minneapolis, and Lala could be anywhere shopping or meandering the sky ways, and local friends houses nearby.  Upon reaching the apartment, Sandra glossed the apartment's building code's before she met with the B: Ms. Lala B. And then buzzed Lala's apartment. 

 "Muy, Kafha halok?" said Sandra, " Oh Sandraaaaaaaaa" Muy's lovely voice rang with sweetness and love. Muy, was short for Mom, and Sandra knew it gave her certain pleasure in calling her that. Muy already being the mother of eight and all...

" Come, Come" Muy said, in her simple English. '

She buzzed Sandra in, as the apartment's security guard just gave her a Small smile and Sandra returned it with even a bigger one.  "Just visiting a friend" said Sandra.  The guard was all too familiar with Sandra, it amazed her every time to see Sandra with her the other Moroccan women together.  Sandra in her tight denim jeans while the women wore abaya's that could fit two or three women in them, their long dresses cascading across the floor and Sandra in her Betty Boop top, and white sneakers.

She sat on one of the big cushioned couches and observed, taking out her small Arabic dictionary, she began to try to catch Arabic words as the flung out towards Muy's daughter Fatimah.  She knew that most verbs began with ya, depending on the tense:past, present or future., and could be easily scanned in the dictionary, when she cut off that prefix.  Fatimah must have been so happy that day to see her.  Her hug nearly collapsed Sandra into the couch.

 "My gosh", Sandra said, "You act like you haven't seen me in long time", Sandra brushed a long strand of black hair behind her ear and laughed.  despite the fact that Fatimah was almost forty-five, she fit right in with the younger, middle aged women.

Lala B, wasn't there, and Muy wanted to go to the market, it was Friday.  They would go after the masjid.  " "Ohhhhh I forget", exclaimed Sandra. 

Now she would have to busy herself while she waited for the women to put on their traditional garb and Islamic dress.  That was fine.   She was armed with a pen and a piece of paper.  She began to leaf through her Arabic dictionary, glancing at words, noting them.

Earlier post on Sandra

http://www.blogger.com/publish-confirmation.g?blogID=4448833716853931131&postID=8134429212464516837&timestamp=1330270341972&javascriptEnabled=true 

Sasha and Norbu, One n Two: Oxford Circus

 

Sasha somehow made it past the walkers and joggers in the square, she could only think of one thing and it was getting back at misty, but for now she would have to battle traffic and traffic seemed to be consumed of bikers in the night...if she thought it was at all possible... police on horse and more police in black helmet hats, how she would get around this mob was something she wandered out loud...she took a chance one in the subway and asked on of the lady officers,

"Excuse me Miss, I'm trying to get to this station", and she hurriedly took out her map from the side of her purse, almost ripping it in her haste...the lady police officer looking at her her bemused..and this young girls haste. taking her up and down, as she wore flig flops in tone of the dirtiest subways and a sun dress, and knowing that she'd like to be in the same sort of outfit but instead she was in a tight fitting uniform that just about hid what her brother would call her "FURP", and without lifting out her nightstick, she fumbled for her flashlight, as her eyesight was poor and she wanted to really help this girl in her sundress in the subway..She'd rather direct this poor unfortunate soul in the middle of England's subway system, to the male police officers nearby, why couldn't women just be more assertive and confident, Sasha thought to herself, as she saw the women police officer keep on looking in the direction of the male police officers.  They wore the bright yellow vests that were supposed to somehow give them the protection, what protection did they need in a subway?  Were they going to be hit by any number of the British who never seemed to even step on your shoes even though they walked 10 miles per hour in the under ground system, faster than any pace they they normally would up hold outside of the subway.
"Alright, well miss you wanna continue down this way?", she said motioning in one direction, "and when u get to this interval you will take a left, its all easy, just follow the signs"... the police women said, as she brushed back a few strands of her hair and looked on ahead. 

Dismissively she took the police officers advice, not wanting the women's job whatsoever...she got out of the station and she had a plan..

Her plan was approved by Jenks, she would get money for the school, and she was proud, they would be able to have the kids go to theatre events and they too would find some joy in the theatre, and they might just walk away wanting to entertain people and wanting to take risks like she was... But she felt cheated, she had thought that she would have to work harder for this money...She thought she would have to practice the speech that she had written , the one in her Manila folder, that talked about the stories of this children...and all thoe ones she came across.. the students who told her stories how they were too busy cooking and cleaning for the eight children at ome...how their older sisters and brother were having kids and they were forced to stay home and watch their kids instead of going to college and getting a job of their own...how they managed to do this was unthinkable...

Where would they ever get an interest in the arts?  wherever would they dream about something bigger than having huge families of their own one day?  Where ever would they get the idea that they would escape north minneapolis and escape the life of getting shot into their homes, wheile their were sleeping, the bullets just coming two feet of their own head.  where ever could they get the idea..that they could get out of this station of their life and instead of getting jobs that reinforced the same people who created the mess in their lives they could possibly get jobs that didn't include social work of helping the same people who shot into their home obtain food stamps and benefits...would they get jobs they didn't include them helping domestically abused women...and would they get jobs that helped a different sort of community, a sort of community where people who didn't shoot..

Sasha knew that they questions wouldn't stop bothering her until she finished her career working as a teacher in this city...but she knew that she wasn't no  "Dangerous Minds" teacher either...She sat their near the oxford street station on a cement border to help collect her thoughts...she had to wait patiently for a call from Norbu, who was going to meet her..and so she spent that time waiting to peer out at the latest fashions of any passerby.  She absolutely loved the cutoffs shorts with leggings look on many of the women, and especially how petite girls could use their petiteness to extenuate the look of their muscular running legs while wearing leggings, their brown satchel crossing their shoulder and their blond hair coming out in cascades of waves underneath a white crotchet hat...she loved this new athleticism the women were showing..this "I had a mission" and you nor I were going to interrupt their mission, as their cell phones held the messages of some lover who also had plans to meet them near oxford circus

"beep beep beep beep. beep beep beep beep" Sasha's phone began to ring from Norbu's call and Sasha escaped behind a an a malls pole to answer the phone, as the phone was so loud, she had yet to not be embarrassed when onlookers heard the phone, for which Sasha felt both embarrassed and rang louder and louder until she answer....almost giving her no choice to answer or at least shut up that loud incriminating sound that came from deep down her coats inner pocket..where she put it half the time was a mystery..she was always in a hurry, and stashed it at the nearest available pocket every time...answering it, she could hear Norbu's insistent voice..

"Are u there?"..Sasha stopped herself from pirouetting knowing that Norbu was impatient when he couldn't reach her, and often wandered how the heck, she still didn't know the trains stops..

"Yes, well here's the plan" she hated to be in Norbu's neck of the woods, where he had full control over whatever plan he made, and she was forced to oblige as it were, she was in central London, and he knew every stop and could easily calculate without a map, just which stops she could take and somehow estimate just how long she would manage to get to the meet up of his choosing..

Earlier post on Sasha

http://trincarl07.blogspot.com/2010/07/can-we-read-something-like-vampires.html

Sandra be Nimble, Sandra be Quick

She never considered herself to be a food writer, although her friends joked with her, "why don't you write about my samosa or my tres leche cake, you comin' over here and eatin it and all."  Sandra did have her habit, and even at a ripe young age, Sandra ignored her mother's comments:

 "Don't invite yourself to your friend's house", her mother said.   Early as a child, her mother heard her one day sitting on a red squishy chair in the kitchen; her legs danglin', as she was tellin' her friend Crystal, "Go ask your Mom, if i can come over" her own mom must have taken her by the the hand that day and gave her a talkin' but she didn't care, if she didn't invite herself into her friends' life she wouldn't have, half of them.  Now lookin' up the aprtment at the elevator sign, 13-12-11, she'd quick thhink of her excuse for coming, but she knew she ahardly need to speak, Muy's basic english would fill the gaps, and she'd engage Sandra in small talk, Sandra thought to herself, ask her about her mom, ask her about...

Sandra-Your whatever-kind-you-wanted PITA BREAD

Sandra was working feverishly hard on this interview of the "Big Bangers Deli"  . Looking through her notes on tablets, and listening to her hand held recorder at the same time, she was surprised how useful it had been to walk through the market's aisles and talk about the various food items on her recorder.  Freezers strowed in the back; curry powers and Indian premade sauces in boxes, within the center aisles.  Lettuce and vegetables on the other side of the market, in total, the market itself only spanning 500 feet, to squeeze all those necessary items for so many patrons.

She remembers some unique items that she wrote down with such ferocity, that her pencil almost broke with the pressure.  "Creme Cheese" their was plenty of creme cheese she remembered!!!!!!!!! And olives, olives made her want to vomit, the plamentos staring out of her like alien eyes... but she knew her reader's would appreciate how it was so unique, how in one corner of the market there were glass window displays just for olives and how if you wanted, you could have a deli worker scoop some of those fine smaller-than-an-egg specimens into a plastic bowl for your taking...Not to mention  the amount of pita bread and nuun that was available in bags for customers choice; you had had your garlic, your hummus, your wheat, your whatever-kind-you-wanted, pita bread at your disposal..

Sasha-Not Yet in the UK

"Well, I'll need my driver", and with that Sasha took out her business card.

Michael on the phone, had this to say, "be there in ten."

"Ten, ten freakin' minutes, oh my gosh," Sasha started to move like a hamster on crack, turning this way and that way and this way and that way, looking for who knows what.

"Keys, keys, keys", she said, each finality of the word bringing its importance all the more higher.  "What you lookin' for?" her mother asked, with that same straight like look on her face eyebrows extended, and still in sweats.

 Sasha started to look through all the brown leather couches, flipping them over, putting her funny lookin' niece on another section of the couch, as she sat in her way.  She got down on her hands and knee,  push up style while she  looked under the coffee table, searching , thinking, pushing back the dining room table, and cabinetry where the shrine was; picking up bananas, putting them back.

"I gotta go ma," speaking to her mom, in search a condescending tone, that her mom just looked at her bead-eyed child and walked back in the kitchen, presumably taking in her second helping of buttered tea. mumbling on her breath, about Sasha's behavior and thinking, this child will be the life of me, one day...

How the heck Sasha found her keys was of no surprise to Amalah, (mother in Tibetan).  But she did, and the fact that Michael would be pulling up any minute to march her off to another one of Jenk's meetings made it the showcase of hope.

Eating her curds and Whey....

Vila had made the whole lot of Misty's crew egg rolls. 

"Here she comes" said Misty, giving her a side hug and knowing that without this sweet old friend at the turn of every page in her life, misty would be in the projects once again.

She came full handed with two Tupperware containers thickly filled with egg rolls made of cabbage and chicken. The dancers looked on with pitiful faces.

 "Where did this girl come from?" Some murmured "don't ya' all know? This is Misty's colleague?"

 Misty looked at the swarming dancers and shivered with gratitude, their faces swelling.  "Where was Eman when you needed him?  "

"I'd take these egg rolls, any day, to Eman's cooking," misty grinned with such satiety, grabbing an egg roll and inhaling it.

 "No, you go ahead, you got your egg rolls,sugar cookies, in a bag, and chips for one day only," and a laugh escaped the dancers throat,  and  vila's brother was helping himself dig in.

 "This is for one day only", so eat up, he stammered, between mouth fulls of egg rolls, barely making it into his mouth.

Misty was half enjoying this break up of routine, and there was no stopping food and their dancers.

"Try some tri-color drink."

The big punch bowl was filled with wormy lookin' gummies of different colors chilling at the bottom of this drink.

 "Now, Vila how do you have time to make tri-color?"  asked Misty.  "Don't worry about that." said Vila.  Her modesty charmed Misty every time. She gave with her whole heart, and the giving entering their bodies right now, would make for great recovery, thought Misty.

Earlier post on Misty

http://trincarl07.blogspot.com/2011/05/detectives.html

Jenks scared Mr. John away

Jenks was happy for the the distraction of his latest money making schemes, he had many and that kept everyone close to them actively engaged in their routines of frustration and hard work this made him strum his fingers and pat his cat like the villain from inspector gadget.

Before the winter was over.  Jenks had all but sent Sasha, Sheila, and Sandra-if Not against someone, at least against one another.  Each of their intrepid stares made Jenks marvel, and John, his assistant,was doing all the work, while Jenks was just "the brain".

"This will be the last time", said John with a turn of the key...Standing in the bakery, John searched around looking for some of the supplies he needed.  A big file folder marked their trailing catalogue: organized, and situated, so with a touch, an envelop easily opened a file. A file's tip...easily made it graspable for John's, spin,  transparent fingers.
"Now, with Sasha going back back to the the Uk, that leaves me hee, hee hee," he half chuckled to himself.

 And Sheila will no doubt-still be looking for Bernard. And Sandra will try to do the expose on the shop,.

"I Got it"...said John, the assistant...looking over the files.  Pictures of each of the mad women in Jenk's plot stared back at him, as if they were taking pictures in time.  As if Jenk's own creation could make money...the marketable plan that was taking place, stretched out its line plotted figures in front of him.  In one of the files, but John didn't understand...he'd have to go home...if this plan, in this folder were true...

Row, Row, Row a Stream

Sandra had deadlines to meet but making them would be hard, caught under Joe's delirious concept to intrigue guests to stay past their bed time.

First their was the American food held as leftovers, then there was the papaya salad, that Sandra nibbled on and made it her point to try to escape from.  And then Sandra's all time favorite; the chips with guacamole dip.  This held her attention, and with the zingggg of papaya salad, conversation flowed, as Joe invited half the neighborhood to her house for a small gathering.
 "
Enrico creeped down the stairs, and Sandra's gaze was kept on him.   "I know you!!!!" she said.  "I know you too," said Enrico. Not nearly half as flabbergasted as Sandra's observation.  But she looked at him, and the way he sauntered in the partly only to grab a chicken wing from the  buffet table and talking at the same time to Joe.
"What's down in the basement"? can I stow my stuff down there?"
 "Well, you know the bikes and boxes from the families, but their should be room for your stuff." said Joe.

Then taking a whole plate, he settled himself to an array of items, and picking at each while he grabbed more, no one seemed to mind the fact that Sandra's old, college Secretary stepped into the door and was now settling himself to a good assortment of food, as if he had lived their for months.   Sandra would have to hold back her comments until this beastly eating roommate of theirs exited, so she could get all the grime from Joe...
"Well, I'll be in the kitchen", said Joe, and behind the beaded curtain she disappeared..