New Kingston face off

I wasn't sure how it was going to turn out, but the whole seamy affair was more than I had bargained for on a sunny Sunday morning.

I had been chatting with 'Bread Man' (who, oddly enough doesn't bake or sell bread) near a traffic light on Knutsford Boulevard in New Kingston for quite a while when up walked a woman wearing a red scarf on her head. She had on a yellow dress and a pair of sandals that had seen better days. She was clutching a soda bottle full with what looked like water.

"But wait," she said, looking at me quizzically. "Look from when I nuh see you."

I didn't recognise the woman so I looked over at Bread Man. All he offered was a mocking grin.

I told the woman she had perhaps mistaken me for someone else. "Cho man, nuh badda wid it," she said, waving her right hand. Then she went silent for a few seconds.

"Eem, yuh have anything can leave wid me?" she asked. I dipped into my pocket and gave to her what I could spare from what was retrieved.

She looked it over with repugnance.

"Dis need 10 more dalla fi buy patty and juice," she said.

Again I looked at Bread Man who, again, did little more than snicker.

I'm not certain where I found the patience, but I managed to tell her, surprisingly calmly, that that was all I could give her at the moment.

She muttered something to herself then walked off.

It was here that Bread Man decided it was time to intervene.

"Heh hey! She tek ah set pan yuh mi bredda!" he quipped.

Bread Man, a vendor of strictly meatless soups is a regular in the New Kingston area. He lives in Kintyre, but journeys to Knutsford Boulevard to sell his culinary creations to the relative few who pass through the area on Sundays. He told me the woman's actions that day were nothing new.

"Every Sunday she come out here come beg beg," he said.

Before the woman had interjected, Bread Man and I were talking about how different New Kingston seemed on a Sunday. With only a handful of people moving about, it was like you could see more of the place. During the week it's a congested, fast-moving business centre. On a Sunday, everything seemed to be moving slowly.

"Yeah man, dat's why mi ongle come out here pon Sunday day time. Di inna-di-week business too much fi me," said Bread Man.

After spending a few more minutes with him, I decided to take a walk down the road. It was a bit of a thrill having nearly all the sidewalk to myself. I passed a man with shifty eyes washing a car with dark-coloured water from a bucket.

"Ah one big stone mi ah go lick yuh wid!" someone shouted.

Unexpected interruption

It was an unexpected interruption. I could see from where I was that further down the road a commotion was unfolding. Curious, I hurried my steps. Seconds later I was at the scene. It appeared a heated argument was taking place between a man wearing a black shirt and the very woman in the red scarf who had earlier relieved me of less money than she would have liked.

"Yuh head favah wild grass!" the man shouted, pointing at the woman.

"Gweh from yah! Mean like!" was her retort.

I walked up to an elderly man watching the heated spat from the safety of several feet away. I asked him what was going on.

"Well, it look like seh di woman mussi beg di man a lunch money and she nuh get none; so dem ketch up," he said. I nodded, knowingly.

"Dem a threaten fi lick down dem one anedda wid big stone," he continued.

As the argument progressed, it took a turn towards the profane. The woman in the red scarf described with anatomical specificity what the man should do to make amends for his refusal to give her money. The man in the black shirt, his face swelling with anger, assured the woman he would be doing no such thing and instead related a suggestion of his own. It was not for the faint of heart.

As this was taking place, a yellow JUTC bus pulled up and off walked two women, two girls and a boy. The women wore wide-brimmed hats and carried umbrellas. The two girls were wearing long white dresses with stockings and the boy had on a pair of black pants and a white shirt. The children were clutching Bibles.

The women in the hats appeared shocked when they heard the words of the two engaged in verbal battle. One covered her mouth while the other hurried the children to the opposite side of the road.

The elderly man who had explained to me what was happening, suddenly spoke up.

"Ay man!" he yelled, apparently to the fellow in the black shirt.

"Done now and mek she gwaan. Ah smaddy pickney to yuh nuh!" he shouted.

The woman in the red scarf, who by all accounts should have been grateful to her new-found supporter, instead looked even angrier.

"Gweh! Mi nuh need nobody fi talk fi mi! Mi look like mi have lockjaw?"

The elderly man who had gone out on a limb in support of the scarf-wearer seemed astonished.

"Kip weh!" he yelled.

"Ah shoulda lef yuh meck dem lick yuh dung! Ol' mongrel!"

Where should Robert go next? Let him know at robert.lalah@gleanerjm.com

Feedback

The following are feedback to last week's Roving with Lalah.

Dear Robert,

Big story, my brother. Expertly written as usual.

- Hill

Dear Robert,

I could just picture you running as if you had the Superman tights on and a big 'S' on your chest! Hilarious! I look forward to your weekly stories, so please keep them coming.

- Erika

Dear Robert,

God bless you for your writing. Makes my week. Keep it up.

- Torah

Dear Robert,

Keep on doing what you are doing. Your articles are great. I read them every Tuesday morning. God bless and, again, keep up the good work.

- Denise