Nice time in Yallahs

Now, whoever thought it was a good idea to give Mr Pepsi a drink of rum before dusk, certainly didn't have the best interest of his fellow Yallahs, St Thomas, residents at heart.

Mr Pepsi, a greying, but surprisingly sprightly chicken-jerker from the area, is apparently known to be something of a talker. And when he gets his hand on a drink, well, he doesn't shut up.

I found all this out on a recent Friday afternoon while standing outside a patty shop in the community. A man was across the road holding a cup and talking about something or another with great animation. It was a woman standing next to me who explained what was going on.

"Lawd, ah who go give Pepsi liquor so early?" she said, with genuine concern in her voice.

"Anytime him start drink from so early fi him mouth set pan spring fi di rest ah di night," she said.

The man started doing knee lifts for no apparent reason, all the while continuing his monologue which, by this point, I figured out had something to do with the pros and cons of using handmade brooms to chase away stray cats.

I asked the woman if such a display was common. "Yes man, cho!" she said, before storming off in the opposite direction.

I walked over to the side of the road where Mr Pepsi was still executing his diatribe. There I met a man with uneven eyebrows who asked me if I was interested in purchasing a quarter of a chicken. I declined, but asked him how business was going.

Early hours

"It early, man. We have at least two more hours before the crowd come down wicked," he said, smiling. The smoke from the drum of chicken he was standing over suddenly rose, hitting me square in the face. It was not unpleasant.

Two other vendors, who were preparing chicken and pork at similar stations nearby, came over. They told me that Friday night in Yallahs is quite a big deal. Music is played, meat is jerked, and general merriment is the order of the day. One of the men, a short middle-ager called Robert glanced at his watch. "Is bout two now, mi need fi run go home go hold a fresh and come back," he said.

"Tell Prento fi watch di drum fi mi."

With that, he was off.

The other men chuckled when he was out of sight.

"Him hear seh Charlene ah come tonight, man, so him haffi meck sure him clean," one of them said. The laughter got louder.

It caught everyone by surprise when Mr Pepsi intervened.

"Ah tell unnu seh mi have five shilling and di man have di goat fi sell me," he said, emphatically.

The others ignored him. Mr Pepsi took another sip from his cup, then walked away, apparently disappointed by the lack of engagement.

A large truck pulled up in front of us. Honk! Honk! The driver stuck his head out the window. He was a large fellow with pointy ears. "Which part di sound ah string up?" he asked. Someone pointed down the road and the truck drove away.

The chicken-jerker with the uneven eyebrows did an odd little dance as he poked at the meat in the pan before him. "Yes man, nice time soon start."

I told him I unfortunately would miss the festivities, because I had to get back to Kingston. He hissed.

"Yuh can come ah Yallahs and lef before night?" he said.

"Yuh ah joker! Yuh can gwaan. Nuh feel nuh way still, just meck better plan next time. Yallahs sweet ah night time. Yuh must come back and know it one day," he said.

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