“All of that traveling to and from Chaguanas eat up my hard-earned money. The last time we worked Chaguanas, I had to raise the cost of jobs and got less clients.”
“New chicks in town always make a hit, so don’t panic,” Effie assured her. “I’m giving you a cut, I tell you. You could buy more sexy outfits and put in a new weave so we will blow away the Chaguanas posse.”
It was 11:15. The sun was making its presence felt. People lined the wall of the building opposite the Royal Gaol for shade. A few leaned against the curved wall of the prison looking expectantly at the gates. Finally, the gates opened and the released prisoners emerged, some moving toward familiar faces. A dark-skinned youth dressed in black jeans, a white Sean John jersey, and gym shoes, and carrying two large plastic bags, strolled through the gates. He wore dark glasses. He took a quick gulp of his soft drink, threw back his shoulders, and swaggered down Frederick Street.
Meanwhile, a young brown-skinned man was walking up the same road. He was dressed for the office in black pants and a long-sleeved white shirt, and his hair was neatly cut. Not far from the prison, his face broke into a smile as he recognized the ex-con and embraced him. “How was your stay inside, breds? How is the life?” he asked as they headed down Frederick Street, arms around each other.
They spoke quietly as they walked. The office worker took the soft drink while the ex-con tied a plastic bag onto one of his pant loops. Removing his sunglasses, the ex-con looked around casually, then placed them in his pocket. The office worker finished the soda and threw the bottle away. They turned and crossed Park Street onto Piccadilly Street.
“I got to go back to work now. I’ll check you later, breds.”
“Sheldon, boy, you hug me up, drain my soft drink, and you leaving me just so?”
“You know if I was holding, Carl, I would give you a purple note, even a blue note, but I skating on passage till payday.”
“I know you have my back, Sheldon. Hold a ten nuh. Later.”
Sheldon took the ten dollars Carl handed him and hurried back to work. Carl walked until he reached the housing development on Nelson Street commonly known as the Plannings. He had lived here when he was younger, but in his early teens his family had moved to Maloney. He still spent a lot of time in his old neighborhood, where he had relatives and many friends. He noted nothing had changed in the last four years.
Marlon spotted Carl from his second-floor window and raced down to meet him. He threw his arms around him, slapped him on his back, bounced his fist on Carl’s chest, and offered his open palm which Carl slapped. “So you just fly, bro,” he said, leading the way to the apartment. Marlon bounded up the stairs two at a time while Carl took the steps singly. Inside, Marlon made a show of dusting off a chair for Carl while calling into the kitchen, “Ma, come and see who here.”
“Carl, God bless my eye,” Marlon’s mother exclaimed, hugging him. “You just come out?” She moved to the door to check that it was locked. “Well, you in good time. I now take off the pot, so you must eat something.”
“Thanks, Ms. Noble. I will take a little taste,” Carl said shyly, shifting in his chair.
“A little taste? Only a little taste of my food?”
“Well, when I pass by my two aunts in the next Plannings, I sure they will want me to eat too,” Carl explained.
“Boy, when last you had good home-cook food? Eat here, eat there, eat all you can. Don’t be shy.”
“All right, Ms. Noble, dish out what you want.” Carl smiled as Ms. Noble bustled over to the kitchen.
As soon as his mother was out of earshot, Marlon pulled up a chair close to Carl’s and spoke in low tones. “What type of piece you want, a nines or a.38?”
Carl shook his head. “I not in the life again. I had plenty time to think in prison, and it not making sense. I plan to go to church.”
“Carl, you was going to church with your mother when you was in the life.”
“I was fooling myself, not the Lord,” Carl said, searching Marlon’s face for understanding.
“This is our way of life,” Marlon argued. “What job you will get? How will you survive?”
“I will trust in the Lord for my survival.”
“You still need a piece to protect yourself,” Marlon insisted stubbornly. “You don’t have to commit any robberies, but you made plenty enemies, and they will be coming for you.”
“I will ask for forgiveness and trust in the Lord.”
“Boy, like they mess with your brains in prison. Like you gone off. Before you reach to ask for forgiveness you will get a bullet. A man must have a weapon for protection in these times.”
“That is the chance I will take,” Carl said quietly. “You don’t know what it is to be locked up for four years. I don’t want to go back there again. I will not go back there again.”
Ms. Noble brought out lunch then and they all ate.
“Yes, Ms. Noble, you outdo yourself today. You have me licking my fingers,” Carl said, eating the last piece of breadfruit with relish. “That was the best oil down I taste in years.”
“The best? Boy, that was the only oil down you eat in years,” Marlon joked.
“True. We didn’t even get that on Christmas Day. One apple per man for Christmas,” Carl reflected soberly. “Thanks, Ms. Noble. I really appreciate that meal, my first meal of freedom. When they tell me I could leave, I bought a soft drink from the prisoners’ canteen. I just wanted to walk down the road doing something natural.”
“You see how it feel to be free again? Just hold on to that and don’t do a thing to end up there again,” Ms. Noble advised. She cleared the table and returned to the kitchen.
“Where you get money for soft drink?” Marlon asked Carl.
“The authorities give me my money for good behavior and prison work.”
“So what is your plan now?” Marlon asked.
Carl rose. “I’m heading to Maloney after I check my aunts.” He called goodbye to Ms. Noble as Marlon unlocked the door. Marlon followed him downstairs.
“So what you going to do when that money run out? I can give you a parcel to sell to start,” Marlon offered.
“Marlon, you don’t understand,” Carl said, raising his voice. “I finish with that life.” He left and headed for the apartments on Duncan Street.
Carl walked slowly, savoring the old neighborhood. The cracked pavement and garbage strewn in the drains was just as he had remembered. The noise from the corner bar was as raucous as ever. Small children peered from windows to relieve boredom. A pack of dogs rounded the corner after a bitch in heat. A young woman strutted down the street toward him wearing a tiny tube top and a short denim skirt. Carl thought something about her looked familiar. They passed, and both turned at the same time to look over their shoulders. They recognized each other, and slowly walked back examining each other’s faces. Carl searched his memory, then blurted, “Effie!” Before him stood the teenage version of the little girl who had lived in the apartment opposite his aunt. He had no sisters and had sometimes regarded Effie almost as a little sister.
“That is you, Carl?” Effie almost shouted. “I heard you was inside. It’s good to see you. How long you come out?”
“This morning. You didn’t go to school today,” Carl commented, observing Effie’s outfit. When he had last seen Effie, she was excitedly telling everyone she met that she had passed the Secondary Assessment Examination for a “prestige” school. Carl remembered the joy he had felt at her success.