Narrated by Slippers
After di river rescue, everybody deh pon cloud nine. Bubbles floatin like royalty, Shoes stop lie ’bout saving him, and Socks finally calm down — until him overhear Lady Dee on the phone talking ’bout:
“Mi just might perform a likkle set… pon di farm stage.”
Perform?
Mi ears perk up. Trevor pause mid-chew. Even Bubbles float to the front of the tank like him waan hear more.
Next ting mi know, Lady Dee press out her orange shirt, cap straight with the “DR” glisten in the front, and humming some roots tune under her breath. The flyer on the table read:
“Live Pon Di Land: Reggae From Di Roots — Featuring: Lady Dee”
Mi seh, “Mi a come.”
The show deh set up on Miss Zilla farm just up di road. One piece a plywood stage under the almond tree, string lights blink like dem unsure, and three old speakers hum like them remember better days. But mi swear — di vibes electric.
Yam boiling. Peanut roasting. Peanut man already vex. And a likkle youth in mesh marina hook up wires to a battery like him channeling lightning.
Mi crew roll deep: me, Socks, Shoes, Bubbles inna him bucket, and Trevor — somehow rocking a straw hat like him is production crew.
Lady Dee get mic check. Then…
“GIVE IT UP FOR… LADY DEE!!”
Mi tail lift. Mi chest swell.
Lady Dee step on stage, grip di mic like royalty and seh:
“From di hills of St. Bess to di heart of 876 — mi bring truth, riddim, and vibes!”
Then di chune start — slow one-drop. Echo chamber tun up. And mi swear… she shell it.
“From Di Hills” – Lady Dee (Live Pon Di Farm)
(Roots reggae chune inside the show)
[Intro – spoken]
Big up di steel horn inna di tree…
Run di echo chamber…
Now hear mi story —
Straight from Kingston 20 to England… and back to yard!
[Verse 1]
Mi rise from di clay, from di hill, from di hurt,
Barefoot truth walk first inna dirt.
Mama seh, “Hold faith, plant seed, let it work,”
So mi chant through pain till mi voice start burst.
Mi nuh come from hype — mi come from real,
One drum, one soul, one handpan meal.
Vinyl a spin while we stir pot still,
And mi lyrics dem grow like bush in di field.
[Chorus]
From di hills mi come,
Where di zinc roof talk when di cold breeze run.
Where goat and gospel and bassline meet,
And every likkle youth waan plant dem beat.
From di hills mi rise,
Through storm and trial, tears inna mi eyes.
But mi still deh yah pon di speaker wire,
Wid di whole farm yard lift higher and higher!
[Verse 2 – Personalised Verse]
Mi born and grow a Kingston 20 —
Dancehall nights and dumpling plenty.
Then mi hop pon plane, mi gone a foreign,
England breeze but mi yard still darin’.
Over deh mi meet mi crew:
Slippers bark truth, and Bubbles stay cool.
Shoes and Socks flap joke every day —
Mi swear mi pets come wid vibes fi play.
But guess what?
Mi meet Trevor long before di bush —
Him walk inna mi Kingston yard bold like cush.
Now him deh pon farm like starboy goat,
Bleatin in rhythm while mi hit each note!
[Bridge – Echo Bounce]
Echo chamber, run dat tone,
Steel horn loud inna mango zone.
Mi carry mi story, mi carry it home —
Yuh cyaan clone dis soul.
[Chorus – Full Energy]
From di hills mi come,
Where zinc roof talk when di cold breeze run.
Where goat and gospel and bassline meet,
And every likkle youth waan plant dem beat.
From di hills mi rise,
Mi cross ocean, mi cross sky.
But now mi back where mi belong,
Singing mi truth — mi voice, mi song!
[Outro – Spoken]
Slippers deh yah.
Trevor sidung front row.
Shoes and Socks a back up vocals.
Bubbles still bubbling…
From Kingston 20 to England and back —
Mi story a chant through sound system crack.
Lady Dee. One mic. One message.
Still rising.
When she done, whole yard up in cheers. Peanut man throw one shell inna di air like him salute. Socks crying. Shoes shouting “Encore!” Mi just bark once and smile — proud like mi help write di lyrics.
Same mi. Same shoes.
But tonight, Lady Dee sing her truth…
And all now di hills still echoing.
Coming up next:
Episode 9 – Scene 1: Di Goat Who Wouldn’t Tek Orders
Trevor feel famous now.
Start act like him run di yard.
Mi seh, “Boss? More like bossy.”
And when Socks call strike…
Di yard split inna two.
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