Desmond Mc Cauley, also known as "Chow Ming" grew up in Bottom Town which is formally known Rose Place. I never knew Desmond's parents, but I heard stories about his father, who had die when Desmond was still a young child. Fowl play was suspected but it was never proven. I am not sure how old Desmond was when his father die, if or how well he knew his father. However, Desmond never spoke of him and I never asked.
I am not sure at what stage Desmond's mother migrated to the United States of America, to seek out a better life for him. However, by this time Desmond was about fourteen years old; he was forced to grow up, basically on his own. Of course his mother sent the expected barrel and subsistence to his Grandmother, with whom he lives, but socially, Desmond took care for himself; he dealt with his own problems.
Although Desmond did not have the daily hands on support and consistent intervention of his parents, On hind sight, Chow Ming was one of the most discipline youth, I have ever met. Desmond was always in the mix, yet, I have never seen him smoked; not even when Rasta was in and smoking weed was the thing to do. When all of his peers were liberally using obscene (dirty words) languages; Desmond's choice of word was a hybrid: FECK, translated into the continuous tents: Fecking. It sounds like a dirty word and it is used in place of the F-note but it is not a dirty word.
When we all thought it was fun to steal Bonadie and Baisden Mangoes and other fruits, Desmond never did and did not participated. As a matter of fact, just a mere suggestion of going onto those properties, was always a good time for Desmond to excuse himself.
I was still struggling with my mother's death, as a result, I spent a lot of time with my father, It was my place of security. Daddy was always there, I asked him all sought of questions. at that time, I was only allowed to go within a block unsupervised. It did not matter because I had my father, I also had my brothers and sisters; but they did not, do not has the same value of a parent. It was from my father I learn strength, brutal honesty, fearlessness and the love of words.
My father respected everyone but he celebrated no one. He had many people around him, but he had about five people in his inner circle, the council of these guys he listened to but always made up his own mind. My father words was my constitution, I adhere to it with no wavering. And I also understood his silence.
Example: Once one of my father's sister enticed me to join Odd Fellows children lodge, she said "your father will be proud of you, because he was a leading member of the lodge". She also told me not to tell my father until I had joined. This was easy to do because, I wanted to make my father proud. However, when I broke the news to my father, without saying one word; immediately, I knew he did not want me in the lodge. That was the beginning of the end of my days as a junior Odd Fellows.
By this time, daddy was encouraging me to go around the bay-side, to look at the guys in the playground play soccer. For some strange reason, I had a difficult time fitting in. I was a very trusting and honest child, all I wanted was: to be a part; but most of the older kids in the neighborhood, subtly slammed the door of friendship in my face. Most of them spent their time trying to device ways of injuring me, without being held responsible for their actions.
Once, I stood with my peers, on the outside the playground watching the older boys play soccer. While standing there, I felt a blow to my head, after which there was an eruption of laughter, followed by the sound of heavy metal colliding with the pave street. I turn around ready to return the favor to the person; to see the metal portion of an old shovel on the ground beside me, and my friend Raymond standing behind me looking lost. Raymond had a mental handicap.
Honestly, the end result of this incident like all of the incident in my life, was an act of divine intervention. The reason for me concluding so was as followed:
I did not feel the blow to my head only a weight,
I was not rendered unconscious from the incident
I did not suffer any adverse effect from this very serious and life threatening incident.
Raymond was my friend and I knew he would never do that vicious or violent act on his own accord; however, everyone had a good laugh, as they, relived the event they had Just witness. They walked behind me mockingly, pretending to be holding the handle-less shovel with both hands, the raise their hand over their heads and swung their hands forward in the same manner Raymond supposedly did. They did a fast moving almost trembling movement of their open hand, palm face down from side to side, to demonstrate the shimmering or vibrating movement of the shovel after it had bounced off of my head.
I don't know how that blow did not knock him out (render me unconscious) they jokingly asked as they all laugh uncontrollable. However, I was not rendered unconscious. They did not care that the incident could have given me a serious concussion, broke my neck or leaved my with some other or some permanent serious injuries. For them it was fun and they all laughed up a storm.
By this time, Chow Ming had developed a bad tasted for the way I was being treated. When I go around the bay, the older young men always enticed me to play football with them. While I was playing, they only pass the ball to me when it was convenient and in such a manner that made it easy for their friend to viciously cut me down injuring me. Each time I was bad play and was injured, Ming will often become upset almost to throw blows, he will pick up the ball and attend to me until I was able to walk off the field, to the displeasure of the other players.
Each time this happened, Ming will put his hand over my shoulder, in the same way a big brother will, in order to get me to stop crying; letting me know that everything will be OK. After which he will walked me half way up the block to my home and say don’t worry with them go home; taking the ball with him; refusing to give up the ball and no one dare try to take the ball from Desmond regardless whose ball it was.
This happened on a regular basis; as a result, and in order to try and protect me from the other guys, who were always giving their best efforts to injure me, Desmond ensured that I played on his team. By doing so, he took on an added responsibility, now he had two responsibilities. The first was to play his game and the second was to look out for me, ensuring that I was not injured.
He always ensure that I was a part of the game by passing the ball to me, then ensuring I passed the ball back to him, before anyone with bad intentions, got the opportunity to bad play me. I learn to listen to Desmond’s instructions while on the field and when I did; I was safe. I listen for that friendly voice of cautions, shouting: "Pearson out!" That only meant one thing: I was about to be viciously tackled. Instinctively I will jump to avoid injuries, while maneuvering the ball with the bottom of my feet. I often avoid the tackle while remaining in possession of the ball; which was kind of cool and make the attacking person look silly.
It was a habit of all the guys to leave the playground and bring their game onto the streets in front of where we lived; where my father operated a shop, along with my father's shop there were two other business there, there was Mr. Roberts Shop and Cornelius Cadogan AKA Douckles also ran his tailor shop in the said area also; there were the Douglas’ house, the John’s house, the Jack’s Place, which was enclosed by a wooden eight feet fence; Miss Menellva’s house which was enclosed by an eight feet wall; however Ms. Menellva’s house was on some three feet stilts at the back. The stilts elevated her house and cause the windows and most of the upper part of her house stand above the wall; and there was the Russell’s tenement.
After a while, my father began to call the police whenever, the guys came up from the playground to play on the pavement in front of our home. I can remember one day, I was sitting in the shop with father, as I watched and enjoyed the guys as they raise the ball. Then the police came and they all ran. I was kind of disappointed that he called the police. My father recognized that I was disappointed by his actions.
He used that opportunity as a teaching moment and in so doing, he start a conversation. He said to me, "you think I am a bad person for calling the police?" I did not respond in words; I just push up my shoulder with and raise my eye brows indicating I am not sure what to think. However, I did not like the idea of him calling the police on the guys. Then he asked me a few question, he said "when the kick the ball and they break our window, or Ms. Menelva’s window what do they do?" He used our home and Ms. Menellva’s home because these were the two houses that were most affected.
I thought about daddy's question for a while and then I answered, they normally take up their ball, then they all run. Then my father asked me another question: "have anyone of them ever come and take responsibility or say I am sorry?" I said no. It was then I began to see why my father did what he did. Then he said, Ms. Menelva is an old woman, she don’t work anywhere, but when they break her windows; she has to find money to buy the replacement glass and putty; then she have to pay someone to replace the glass. Do you think that is fair to her? I said no. immediately, I began to see everything in a new light, and I knew that my father's actions were right.
Later that day I went around the bayside and no one was on the playground, no one was playing soccer. I was told that everyone was in the newly vacant room in one of Russell’s bayside tenements. As a result, I found the room and I went into the room. All of the guys were gathered there chatting including Desmond. These were the older boys in the neighborhood and all attended secondary school. I on the other hand, was still in the lower primary stages of school.
As soon as I entered the room, one of the older boys began to pick on me. Your father is an informer he said; as he began to make his case against my father. Your father is the one who calls the police whenever we are playing soccer in the streets" he continued. I looked at him strangely because I was shocked at the statement he made and the anger he displayed. I was of no threat to this guy, but I will not allow anyone to criticized my father for doing what was right.
I said to the older angry young man whom I knew very well; I don’t care what you say, my father is right to do whatever he did. Speaking about him calling the police. This made the fellow even more angry; he cold not believed what he was hearing, then in anger he declared: "and the man supporting his father's actions."
I had no one to defend me, my father was no where around, and neither were any of my big brothers; however, I was defiant in my defense of my father and my father's actions. My father is right to do what he did, I fearlessly said again. Then in haste the older guy, got up from where he was sitting, and he sprang over to where I was. he was angry with hand raise and ready to throw blows.
However, before he could get to me, out of nowhere, Desmond with cat like reflexes got to his feet, and sprang in front of his very good friend; creating a protective barrier between me and his angry friend and in a fit of anger he declared, “You cannot hit the man; You want the man to go against his own father. I don't know why, but, standing bravely in defense of my father struck a cord with Desmond whose father had prematurely die some years ago.
He has a right to defend his father;" Desmond declared; squaring up his friend, Chow Ming's left foot was forward, his head hanging slightly down and turned away slightly to the right, while still keeping a visual on his opponent, his hands were tensely hanging to his side. Later when I get to know Ming much better, I got to understand what this posture meant. It meant I don't want to fight, but if you insisted on pursuing that course of action I will. Chow Ming not being a man of may fighting words paused for a while; as his friend began to remind him that he also had to run when the police came on my father's request. Desmond declared in as serious tone: "run or no run; friends of no friends; “you cannot hitting the Fecking man as long as I am here."
Then he said Pearson (the name I was known by as a child) lets go, we left the room and he put his hands over my shoulder and he walked me half way up Queen Street, as he did many times before; then he said to me go on home. I had the assurance that no matter where I was; as long as Desmond was there, I was safe. After that period; I became the little brother Desmond never had. When he was going to the evening shows (Matinee), he will asked if I wanted to go with him; after securing my father’s permission and money to pay my way, he will take me to the movies to watch chines - Kong-fu movies, Desmond also rushed for my ticket (in those days it was a literal fight only for the strong, the fit and the skill to get ticket for the movies).
Later, when I was able to take care of myself. I returned the favor by taking Noel Fox Also Known As: Buppas as my little brother, taking him to the movies and to the beach with me as Desmond often did for and with me.
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