“He that troubleth his own house shall inherit the wind:

and the fool shall be servant to the wise in heart.

Proverbs 11:29

Name:

Dwayne Foster

Aliases/Archetype:

• Froggie Digitall/Mister Digitall
  • Bridge Mcguyver
  • Monkey D Froggie
  • Victor Pendragon

• Dee Rage
  • Pandora Dragones
  • Dark One
  • Raazilla Firefox

• Sirius D
  • Doctor Foster
  • 29:11 aka The Master
  • Will Of D

Birthday:

26 January 1982

Age:

38

Gender:

Male

Height:

187cm (6”2)

Weight:

70 kg or thereabouts (11 st)

Hair Colour:

Black

Eye Colour:

Brown

Blood Type

O+

Element Proficiency

• Air
• Earth
• Fire
• Water
• Light
• Dark

Family Members:

• Dorothy Foster – Grandmother
• Earl Henningham – Father
• Claudette Foster – Mother (Deceased)
• James Foster – Brother
• America Foster – Sister

A short Story…

I was born on 26th January 1982 in Central Middlesex Hospital,to Earl Hilton Henningham and Claudette Elizabeth Foster. We lived in a 2 bedroom flat within a house on the Nightingale Road, Harlesden in Northwest London.

I went to Harlesden Nursery (which is now a Busy Bees nursery) situated just at the front of leafy Roundwood Park home to the exotic bird sanctuary. Roundwood Park is where I witnessed a peacock for the first time and sparked my love for all things nature.

I then went to Furness Road Primary School for a time which I remember but nobody else did. Little me would dwell with mum and dad for about four years until my mother Claudette left unceremoniously after a breakdown in the relationship with my father, Earl.

Mum moved with me into a 2 bedroom flat within the estates along Griffin Close, Willesden. It was a two bedroom flat on the lower ground, quite small, my rectangular box room lay to the right of the front door.

The whole of the estate was a child’s dream with doors and stairs that connected to the upper levels, a park lurked invitingly just around the corner next to a low bridge where you could watch the Jubilee Line train go by. Jim, a young Irish man apparently came with the flat and he would live with us for the next couple of years.

I liked those days in Willesden. During the day I attended St Andrews and St Francis Catholic School which was just a 10 minute walk from home, every day ritually we would stop at the Edward’s bakery on the Willesden High Road (which is still there…to this day!), to pick up a Branson Pickle and Cheese sandwich and a Cadbury’s Chocolate Milk drink.

Not long after, the three moved house again. This time to the top floor of a 4 storey purpose built unit of flats situated on Kilburn Park Road, Kilburn.

It would have been another lovely home had it not been for the series of unfortunate events that were about to transpire. Claudette and Jim had been dealing and making a fair amount of money in ‘high end’ product from the days spent on Griffin Close.

Those highs, had now come home to roost as they both embarked on a drug and drink filled existence. This ended the relationship, obviously.

But what it didn’t end was the relationship between my mum and getting high. With Jim now out of the picture, the realities of being a single parent to a hyperactive and always hungry child started to set in.

Claudette was spending less time at home and would often be away for a number of days, presumably due to her frequent drug induced binges at her ‘friends’ house.

On such occasions I would be left to my own devices which would usually involve getting into idle mischief on these mean streets. In those days my mother had given me a key to the flat by which I wore on a piece of string around my neck.

At times with no food to eat in the house I would venture out on to Kilburn High Road and head to the local supermarket; Safeway, to ‘go and pick a packet of souuup, boy I had to pick a packet of soup’. Never mind.

I was actually quite an accomplished thief mainly because I had to be, or I didn’t eat. Primary delicacy was that of chocolates, sweets and treats, in that order.

With my crew of beady-eyed delinquents we scattered in to ‘procure’ these items, bringing them back to one of the many empty offices in an abandoned building in the central part of town.

Those heady days came to an end one day when the motley crew were raided in what would later become known as ‘the chocolate and sweet siege of 1987’.

I managed to get away, being super fast and very short in those days the police just couldn’t keep up as I meandered my way through the maze of many offices to freedom.

Claudette on the other hand would not fair so well when confronted by the long arm of the law. I was out playing in the park across the road when I saw her being escorted from out of the flat and into a police car.

By this stage we had been assigned a social worker, Beverley.

Now Beverley was young, kind and quite soft spoken, she would check in with us now and again to help with supporting my mother and so it was her who arranged for me to stay with the next door neighbour until my mother was released the next day.

It wasn’t long after that we ended up moving house again. It was a familiar settings. In fact it was the same flat from which we had first moved from previously, so for me it was back to old friends and the adventure playground that was Griffin Close.

For my mother it was back into the heroin induced arms of her lover man Jim. There was a cult figure on television in those days called Jimmy Saville; disgraced figure as the public at large would come to find out decades later. He had a show called Jim’ll Fix It, although it became startlingly clear to me decades on that with our Jim instead of fixing the situation was making it far worse.

My sister and I have this thing by which we classify the occasions in which shit gets real as ‘The Day’. Now ‘the day’ can be typified as meaning any given day or scenario that has life changing repercussions for all members involved so much so that ‘that day’ will never and should never be forgotten.

Now as it happens I can only tell tell this story through a 6 years old boys lens, the age I was when said ‘day’ took place and as such will lack a lot of probably very important detail.

So short story is that for whatever reason my mother and Jim had gotten into a fight (presumably over some non payment of funds) with two other guys. Never one to backdown from a fight my mother proceeded to hand out them cat like skippidy paps (you know that thing with the paws that cats do) which probably would have won her the fight if she were in fact in a fight with cats.

However the guy she was fighting with must of been in a 6 month training camp complete with Rocky theme music and a picture of my mums face on the punching bag. This meat head of a thug gave my mum a left hook that Anthony Joshua would have been proud of, straight to the jaw.

To her credit my mother held her ground after that punch landed but the damage had truly been done in tremendous fashion. Mums jaw was shattered, doctors had to wire her mouth shut and she would spend the next 6 weeks consuming food through a straw.

That was the day my life as I had known it would change forever. Unbeknownst to me, mum had made plans. One day, shortly after her recovery my mother called a taxi cab to take the both of us to Grandma’s house; destination door number 1, Kingthorpe Terrace.

Now mum carried a bag of my clothes which wasn’t particularly peculiar as I would often spend weekends there. What was peculiar is that it was already Sunday and it was a school night.

My spidey senses tingled as my stomach went into auto pilot tying itself up in knots activating the sense anxiety one feels from a gut feeling.

My mother took me to the front door and we were greeted by Dorothy, she a proud lioness with a strong Jamaican accent wearing rose gold framed glasses and she was also my grandmother.

The two women addressed each other for merely a few minutes before my mother said goodbye to me at the doorway before turning away towards the taxi cab and drive away.

I cried instantly as the deep lying truth that had not been spoken but I knew instantly all the same. I would not see my mum again for a long time.

Next time…

Flames (1990 – 98)