‘It’s dangerous here.’ Wisdom criss-crossed the old man’s face. He sat outside his wooden home, his black face crinkling as he looked up to the sun. ‘There’s a gun murder every week, knife crime and poverty. Some ask for food at a restaurant. If you go, you’ll get mugged. Staff share the spoils. Diners look the other way. Take care.’
An hour later, as I joked with two black guys by the busy main road, just away from a maze of back alleys, a tall man came up. ‘Hey man,’ he said. ‘Have you ever been mugged at Christmas?’
This is serious. His tone is threatening. ‘No,’ I said, hoping he wasn’t serious.
‘Well, you’re about to be!’
I need to distract him. ‘Wow, you’re a big guy. How tall are you?’
‘6 feet 7.’
‘Wow again. That’s big!’
‘Yes, and I’ve got a ******* big knife to match.’ He opened a jacket flap. The blade flashed in the sun. ‘Give me your money, or this is for you.’
My brain changed to overdrive chess-playing mode, seeking a win. I’ll talk with the guys I joked with until he leaves. Butthey blanked me, staring straight ahead as if I wasn’t there. They know this man – they’re afraid. Maybe I should be afraid too, if I can’t escape.
‘There’s no escape,’ the big man said. ‘And I’m poor and hungry. I need food. Come across the road to that restaurant.’
Oh... That wise old man warned about this. ‘I can’t. The ship’s due to sail.’
‘Without you if you don’t buy me dinner.’
I started to walk off. He followed, brushing hard against me. ‘You’ll not get away till you buy me dinner. The restaurant’s only over there. Come.’
Just then, two black guys waved to me and smiled. It wasn’t common to see a white man. Talking to them will buy time to find a way out. The big man didn’t know them. He just stood by my side, waiting for me to leave.
A plan hatched. I’ll talk of Caribbean girls. That subject animates Caribbean men. I waited for the big man to join in. When the three men were truly animated, I slowly sidled a few meters away. Suddenly I ran down a side street, and pelted through deserted back alleys, hell for leather.
I returned to the main road two or three blocks away, and peered back. The big man was dashing angrily in and out of shops, trying to find me.
Safety on the ship felt like heaven.
An hour later, as I joked with two black guys by the busy main road, just away from a maze of back alleys, a tall man came up. ‘Hey man,’ he said. ‘Have you ever been mugged at Christmas?’
This is serious. His tone is threatening. ‘No,’ I said, hoping he wasn’t serious.
‘Well, you’re about to be!’
I need to distract him. ‘Wow, you’re a big guy. How tall are you?’
‘6 feet 7.’
‘Wow again. That’s big!’
‘Yes, and I’ve got a ******* big knife to match.’ He opened a jacket flap. The blade flashed in the sun. ‘Give me your money, or this is for you.’
My brain changed to overdrive chess-playing mode, seeking a win. I’ll talk with the guys I joked with until he leaves. Butthey blanked me, staring straight ahead as if I wasn’t there. They know this man – they’re afraid. Maybe I should be afraid too, if I can’t escape.
‘There’s no escape,’ the big man said. ‘And I’m poor and hungry. I need food. Come across the road to that restaurant.’
Oh... That wise old man warned about this. ‘I can’t. The ship’s due to sail.’
‘Without you if you don’t buy me dinner.’
I started to walk off. He followed, brushing hard against me. ‘You’ll not get away till you buy me dinner. The restaurant’s only over there. Come.’
Just then, two black guys waved to me and smiled. It wasn’t common to see a white man. Talking to them will buy time to find a way out. The big man didn’t know them. He just stood by my side, waiting for me to leave.
A plan hatched. I’ll talk of Caribbean girls. That subject animates Caribbean men. I waited for the big man to join in. When the three men were truly animated, I slowly sidled a few meters away. Suddenly I ran down a side street, and pelted through deserted back alleys, hell for leather.
I returned to the main road two or three blocks away, and peered back. The big man was dashing angrily in and out of shops, trying to find me.
Safety on the ship felt like heaven.
Especially when I heard stories from other passengers. A man approached one lady with a large pair of scissors. 'Stand still, or these are for you!' Naturally, she stood still. He then cut the strap off her shoulder bag, and walked away with it, swaggering. Another lady took a taxi to the other side of the island. He drove to an isolated spot, and said, 'It'll cost you $500 to get back to the ship or you don't get back!' She only had $200, which he took. He returned her to the ship just before it sailed so she had no time to complain to the police.
Hell can’t always be helped. Sometimes, if you're lucky like I was, it must be escaped from.
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