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—-”
    “Listen mi little ... spoil gal, a fifteen
grand mi pay Ms. Merl to make mi dress and is not mi getting
married ... You need to cut out you fuckery. You hear mi?”
    What was she bickering about? Fifteen grand?
My original ivory satin Chanel wedding dress costed two thousand
five hundred US that’s almost two hundred and fifteen thousand in
Jamaican money. She continued to bicker
    “You think money grow on tree?”
    “But Pink ... I ...” As the pain stirred in
my shin I could not speak straight, my face grimaced.
    “Shut up enuh gal, you a get marri—-” She
stopped talking and popped her eyes open at an object on the
face-basin.
    “But wait! ... Is what this? ... Is the
cameraman camera that?” her stare now piercing, eyelashes
unblinking. I tried to hide my guilt, made a limp-ish turn facing
her, looking into her questioning eyes,
    “Yeah.” I didn’t realise that Nathan was
trying to pick up his camera when I was shoving him to hide behind
the curtain.
    “What you doing with the camera?”
    “I borrowed it.”
    “For what?”
    “What you mean sis? What else? To take
pictures?”
    Pictures were there on the camera alright,
but definitely not for my big mouth sister to see, no way, not
Pinky at all.
    “Show mi them.”
    I didn't move. She looked at me intensely,
grabbed the camera off the basin, started pressing every button. My
heart skipped ten beats with every button she pressed. She kept on
pressing, determined to see the pictures.
    “How mi turn on this?” She asked while her
fingers busily experimented with pressing things on the camera that
couldn’t even be pressed. They not even buttons. Immediately I
said,
    “The batteries died on me ... That’s why I
stopped.” She looked up from the screen of the camera, looked at me
in concentration then as she seemed to find what she was looking
for in my eyes she began pressing more buttons faster than a BB
texter, and said,
    “Is lie you telling, mi don't believe you.”
My heart raced up to my neck as I saw a green light blinked twice
at the side of the camera. I yelled.
    “Put it down! Because it more expensive than
your dress, you can pay for it if you mash it up?”
    She knew me well. She could sense I was
lying, something I was hiding. The money bothered her, she put down
the camera from whence it came.
    “Mi hope you never fuck the picture man on
your wedding day enuh gal.”
    “What you take mi for Pinky? Seriously. Mi
can’t believe you said that.”
    Even though she was right, I wanted her to
feel guilty for jumping to a dirty presumption like that. I raised
my voice to seem really hurt about it.
    She looked back at the camera, grabbed it up.
I yelled,
    “Put down the frigging camera nuh!”
    "Mi see one button that mi never try
yet.”
    “Put it down!”
    "How you getting so vex?”
    She pressed the button. Nothing happened,
pressed again, a red light blinked. Pressed again, nothing,
continued, pressed again.
    “Pinky put down the camera nuh! My God you
persistent. Mash it up, mash it up, ’cause is that you want
do.”
    She put back the camera down once more. I
shook my head in disgust and vented,
    “Sometimes I wonder if you really are my
sister.”
    “If me and you a sister? You trying to say
that you better than mi Lee? You think you better than people
through you go College and live on hillside?”
    Something turned inside me. Although I was
sick and tired of this same argument, I was used to it because no
matter what we talked about it always ended up here. Nothing
new.
    “No Pinky, why you always bring uptown into
everything? Why you would even think that sluttish thing about your
OWN sister?”
    She didn't seem a bit perturbed about her
presumptions. She answered with no emotions towards my
feelings,
    “’Cause that is how uptown gal stay... Think
any of you easy?”
    “Hug and kiss my ass Pinky! Just get the hell
out the bathroom and don’t let the damn door knob hit you on your
way out. Hsst. You getting mi