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The Weather is
The Weather is Feel Good
The author, William Delaney is a London man who is 42 years old and this is his first novel.
‘The Weather is Feel Good’ tells the story of U.S. President Wilson who sees black people as the worst perpetrators of violent crime in America. So he sets out to deal with the so called ‘problem’!
Setting about an elaborate plan of a Homeland in the states of Florida and Georgia and sealing the Homeland behind a wall. But when he succeeds in getting all coloured people to go there, he goes a step further. Shipping them off to Africa, using the African country of Liberia as a Gateway. They can go elsewhere in Africa when they get there!
The title of the book and its cover picture might seem unconnected with the central plank of the novel. Both deal in the abstract of the thesis of the book. The picture; a man who is screaming in torment at what happens to him when he has set up home in the new homeland. The title; some of the book is set in Jamaica where the weather is fine, but it is President Wilson who feels good.
Airports are not very easy places to be. Today of all days was particularly hectic. It was a day it was easy to lose your luggage or more likely, it could be conceived, a child.
The car was in a secure car-park. For two weeks it was going to be there.
Tennessee International Airport on a mad mid-summers day in the height of a heat wave. Oh God as an expletive and as an imploration was one of the more acceptable ones being uttered by people. The queues for taxi cabs outside the airport were reaching a hundred yards long as people were shifting and shuffling bags. Chattering was incessant. In the airport people had been waiting hours for their flights to leave their runways. There was a lot of Black professionals on husband Robbins flight. Dave, Charlotte and James Robbins flight to Jamaica is scheduled to go on time. They get in line. Standing there in line Dave, husband felt so old. For what reason? Running around were a lot of children. Husband felt alien to them. His mind began to wander. A sound,
“I will meet you on the ‘plane.” Husband’s wife had made more friends. Husband was non-committal about meeting new people. His wife though was always talking to people. It was a trait he liked in her. Meeting new people for him made him feel hollow. Husband’s mind wandered again. But not before seeing a man waving at him as the man disappeared through the terminal gate. A jolly looking man. It would seem now he was the man’s new Buddy. There would be a lot of back slapping from now on. Dave bent down and said in his wife’s ear,
“An implacable foe.”
The man must be a dentist. He was.
“What does he do for a living?” People always asked him that. An unconscious question to ascertain class and status.
“A dentist.” His wife said.
“”Why did I feel old?” Dave mused on to the children again. In his head he saw two lines of people. One young one old. The old line was for the grave. The line of people who had outlived their usefulness. Dave can see a mist enshroud these two lines.
Dave blankly stares at his son who is standing just in front of him. Again Dave felt that feeling of being old. Youth was a feeling he no longer felt. James and the rest of his ‘snotty’ friends were pushing him from the line of youth to the line for the old. The line for the grave, he thought again. He was powerless to stop them. James began to talk to an eight year old girl. When Dave saw this he died a little inside. He was in his grave, James and his friends were filling it in. All Dave could do was watch helplessly from his coffin. He felt utterly alone. His life’s work meant nothing. His son had already replaced him in life he felt.
Two policemen came through the airport doors. Two Arian looking fellows. Both had blonde hair, blue eyes and standing over six feet tall. Both had tan uniforms and black boots. Their appearance made them look like clones rather than twins. Both were holding machine guns. They stood talking to each other. One turned his head and pointed and nodded his head. The other policeman nodded in agreement. With hands on their hips they strode over to husband’s queue. People stood afraid hoping it was not them the police would approach.
“Are you Mrs Tate Mam?” One man spoke. Husband stood two steps away.
“Are your children with your parents Mam?” Mr Tate looked on.
“Yes.” She blubbered.
“I am afraid they have been kidnapped.” Mrs Tate’s head fell on to the officer’s burly chest.
“Come with us please.”