Tickapuss' greatest wish for Red Light

On a lonely, winding road that leads to Red Light in the hills of St Andrew, I met a man called Tikkapuss. Now that is a strange name and when he introduced himself, I couldn't help but chuckle.

Astonishingly, Tickapuss, who got the name from friends years ago because of his burly stature, sees nothing funny about the moniker.

"Ah name, like how some people name John and some people name Mary. My name just more outstanding," he said.

Tickapuss can be a little intimidating. His aforementioned size, his tendency to grunt between words, and that smell of smoke that follows him around all combine to create a bit of a disagreeable character. If you're patient, though, and careful not to ruffle his feathers, he can be fairly tolerable.

We met as he was pushing a wheelbarrow full of cut-up tree branches up the hill.

"Mi was helping a man fi clean out him yard. Him woman was living into 'Merica and she coming home, so now him have to clean up di place, else she will cuss him out," Tickapuss explained.

I asked him where he was taking the branches.

"Up pan di hill. Miss D big son use dem fi meck coal. Mi going to see if him will buy dem from mi," he said.

SPEEDING BUS

Beep! Beep! A minibus full of passengers sped around the corner and passed us on its way down the hill.

"Claffy!" Tickapuss exclaimed. "Dem ever ah speed pon di hill and dem don't even know seh dem Waterloo might deh right round di corner. One turn dem turn and dem done fah."

I could hear the sound of a roaring river in the distance and because it had rained the day before, the air was particularly fresh. I asked Tickapuss if he enjoyed living in the area.

"Well, yes and no," he said, stopping to rest for a moment. Tickapuss parked the wheelbarrow and used his palm to wipe sweat from his forehead. "More time if yuh have likkle money inna yuh pocket, yuh can gwaan hold a vibe. But sometime yuh want likkle enjoyment and likkle vibes and nothing not up here to do."

I asked Tickapuss what exactly he was being kept from doing.

"Like when yuh want to eat piece ah Kentucky chicken. Look how far yuh haffi go fi likkle chicken and chips. Good God, man! Every day yuh haffi get up and ah eat pure salt fish so. Ef ah nuh dat, den yuh only have 'bout two place fi buy food. But no Kentucky," said Tickapuss.

The man seemed pained. I joked that had I known he harboured such strong affection for the fast-food restaurant's offerings, I might have brought some with me. I laughed after I said it.

"Don't joke bout dem ting deh, man," Tickapuss warned. "Mi nuh run joke wid food."

Taking the hint, I moved the conversation to other matters. I asked Tickapuss what day-to-day life was like there.

"Yuh have business people and schoolers who live here, yuh know. All manner of people," he said. "It have a vibe when it ready. Like, yuh can sleep sound 'cause yuh can hear di river water and man nuh really bruk people house up here. It alright, man. Di only ting it missing is likkle Kentucky chicken."