Roving with Lalah - Memorable encounters in Martin, St Mary

The man rubbed the apple vigorously on the left leg of his trousers, the way a bowler might attend to a cricket ball before delivery. While the display might have bordered on unseemly, Winston, the washing machine repairman from Albany in St Mary, insisted that the only truly clean apple is one that can reflect sunlight.

"Only so it sweet," he said as we stood beside each other outside a colourful fruit and vegetable stall at a place called Martin, near Albany.

"When it nuh clean clean, it have a bitter taste," said Winston before taking his first bite of the apple. He closed his eyes in apparent satisfaction. His jaw moved up and down, left and right as he devoured the fruit purchased only moments earlier. The stall's operator, a slightly greying fellow with lazy eyes and a friendly disposition, stood nearby watching the man and his apple.

He asked me if I wanted one as well. I opted instead to partake of a large orange that had caught my eye. He reached for it, whipped out a small knife from his shirt pocket and, within seconds, I was delving into a juicy orange with the same look of pleasure present moments earlier in Winston's eyes.

I paid for the orange and stepped outside with Winston by my side. Together, we walked along the roadway. I asked him what he knew about this place called Martin.

"Well is a big likkle place, yuh know," he said. "It have nuff people, but dem more live like into di hill part dem. Since dem build di highway now, yuh don't really see di people dem ef yuh don't go into di middle part."

No hanging around

Winston cleared his throat and looked behind him.

"Mi really nah tarry still, 'cause mi ah hear seh is like one house up inna di middle part, duppy inna it," he said. I asked him who told him that.

"Is a young girl who sell over Primrose shop," said Winston. "She tell mi seh some man was doing some work on a house in Martin, right on di hill, and is like a duppy teck a piece of old iron and box one of di workman dem," Winston said, nearly whispering now.

I chuckled. Winston didn't.

"Is a serious something, yuh know," he said. "Mi hear seh di workman was really ah fool 'round a woman whose husband dead last year. Him people dem tell him dat him mustn't do it, and see it deh now."

I asked Winston what the man did after his alleged encounter with the duppy.

"Den weh him fi do?" Winston asked, his eyes wide. "Him took off! Him run weh from di place!"

I thought I noticed a slight stumble in Winston's gait and started wondering if he was in control of all his faculties. I looked him over and asked him where the house that this incident was supposed to have taken place was. He pointed to our left.

"Right up on di hill. A brown-colour house. Is the only one right there," he said.

"Anyway, mi gone leave yuh," he added and hobbled away.

I stood alone at the side of the road in Martin for a few seconds. I was contemplating going to look at the house. But wouldn't that be silly? I mean, of course the whole thing was one big mix-up. Perhaps it was all just a trick played on the gullible Winston. That's right. It was all a trick.

I wish I could say that I then headed back to my car and drove off leaving all this talk of phantom attackers behind. Unfortunately, I can't. You see, curiosity got the better of me and, within a few minutes, I was standing in front of the house that Winston claimed was the scene of the most unusual incident.

Looking for duppy

I looked the place over. It was little more than a shell, really. There were pieces of metal and wood strewn about. I saw an old television set near the front and a plastic bottle on a window sill. I tentatively moved a little closer and stuck my head inside. Then, I heard a sound behind me.

"Ehm."

I turned to find a man with a towel on his head.

"Who yuh looking for?" he asked.

After introducing myself to the man, who told me his name was Dave and that he lived nearby, I related to him the story told to me by Winston. I chuckled at the end, poking fun at how silly Winston was to have believed such malarkey. Dave laughed out loud.

"But ef yuh look into it, one fool meck many," he said. "For see it deh, him tell yuh bout duppy and you deh here and ah look fi duppy too! Heh hey!"

I didn't think it was that funny.

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

Photos by Robert Lalah