True Story: Allan first brush with death

I was about three years old, a happy go Lucky child. At that stage of my life, my world was perfect. I had need for nothing more, I had two parents who loved me dearly, four sisters, and two brothers who also loved me and thought I was a cool little brother, and they treated me like such; and being the baby in the family, I was the center of the attention.

Life could not have gotten any better but it did. my cousin Merle, came to live with us. Merle was mother's sister daughter. Now there were serious competition for my attention. My favorite sister Charmaine and my favorite cousin Merle, was always in competition to do things for and with me. I was also their get out of the house free pass. I am going to take Pearson (the name, I was commonly called until I began school at 5 years old) for a walk, I am going to take Pearson to netball. “I was going to take Pearson” the magic words, that got them permission to get out of the house and attend their prearranged rendezvou.

Before becoming a member and apart of the Palmer's clan, Merle was a teenager and was living with our grand mother, in the small fishing vilage of Questelles, which is the birth place of my mother; and my second home.

 At that stage of Merle’s life, My mother’s mother; our Grandmother, Courtney Jack, who was getting down in age and could not give her the type of Supervision and the type of attention a growning teenager required. As a result, my mother; Merle's auntie, having four other girls, thought Merle will fit in perfect in our home; as a result Merle Came to live with us. To me, Merle was another big sister; Mother loved Merle like her own daughter and treated her the same, as she did the other girls.

One day, Merle asked for permission and was granted permission to take me to the beach. We left home Merle and I and about a block into our walk to the beach, Merle stopped and called Marcina, one of her school friends. We waited for a while then Marcina joined us. On Marcina’s arrival we continued the short journey to the beach. By this time we only had to walk a half of a block to the beach.

I loved the sea, I was always anxious to go to the beach and into the water. However, when we got to the beach, Merle and Marcina took a seat on the sand, and they became involved in a conversation. They chat and I sat and waited on my opportunity to join the others, mostly older children, who was there already enjoying the water.

After waiting for a while, I went to Merle and I asked her, “when are we going to the Sea?” Merle replied, “I will take you into the water in a little while”. As a result, I went back to play in the sand, while Merle and her friend continued their conversation. Not sure how much "real time" had elapsed from I first asked Merle when are we going in to the sea, however to an anxious child, it seems like a pretty long time. As a result, I went to Merle once more, interrupting her conversation with her school friend, she said wait a little while, I will take you into the Seawater in a while. By this time, I had heard that several times before. I went back to playing in the sand by myself.

Being bored, with playing with myself, and with a heightened anxiety from watching the other children having fun, running around, jumping in and out of the sea, I want to get in on the fun. I went to Merle once more and I asked her, when are we going in to the sea. By this time Merle have became tired of hearing me asked the same question over and over again, said to me; go on into the sea if you want to.

That was all I needed to hear, in my juvenile mind, unable to swim, I thought all will be well. I did not hear anger, frustration and I did not hear sarcasm in Merle's voice. I did not know what sarcasm was. at that age, I was unable to distinguish between them. 

I only understood words and their means. Interestingly, in some cases, even adults cannot fully distinguished between, anger, and or frustration when expected; unless the words used directly address a particular issue; therefore understanding sarcasm for a lot of adults is like earning a collage degree.

I anxiously wanted to join the other children who were enjoying the sea. Immediately, I ran full speed into the sea. My little feet got caught up, in the wave that had just washed up on the sand, My feet was swept from under me, which resulted me to fall over belly first, into the water that have just, washed up upon the shore, to bathe the sand. I made a big splash but it did not hurt. As the wave returned to the sea, it was like a man's hand, that held onto me and dragged me into the deep end of the sea. I tried to resist the water but, I was unable to.

I was too weak and too small to contend with the violent pull, and the force of the retreating sea. I tried to regain my footing, but I was unable too stand up. By this time I was in water that was too deep for me to stand in. my head remained under water all the while. By this time, I had gulped down one or two mouths full of sea water, trying to breathe whilst under the water. I did not know what to do or what was happening. But, I knew this was not good.

I could not remember this happening to me before, all of the other times, I went to the beach and enjoyed the sea. This was so because, those who took me to the beach, were always with me, while I enjoyed the water. They made sure I was always safe on the sand, where the wave came up and washed over me; or when I went into the deep area I was in their arms or hands, whatever the case maybe. 

However at the time I was in new and dangerous territory. I did not have the safe guard I always had, I was in the deep part of the sea, of the beach, that was only two short blocks away from my home; unable to swim, by myself. 

While I was in the water, I was dipping up and down, yet my head did not get above the water, I was also gulping down sea water in my effort to breathe. And then, like something out of a old movie, I heard a big splashed in the water, and immediately, I felt a giant hand, came out of nowhere and made contact with my right upper arm, grabbing on to my arm, in the area of my biceps and with one pull, yanked me out of the water.

When I was out of the water, I took a deep grasp for air, through my mouth, automatically I began to cough, while, I coughed water began to be expelled from my lungs, as snat (mucus) ran from my nose, even though I did not have a cold.

Before I arrived at home Mr. Father knew what had happened, as he always did and he was angry. Merle was not his family and therefore was not his responsibility, so he brought the incident to my mother's attention and give her clear instructions. This was the first of the many life threatening experiences that would have add color and flavor to the exciting roller coaster ride that had become my life.

Even at that age, I knew I was in big trouble, I knew if someone did not come and get me, I would be dead. However, I was not afraid of dying, but I wanted to live. That incident burned a place in my memory, and I remember every detail, of that incident up to this point in my life.

BETRAYED - By Chief Strong-Blood

I was about sixteen years old. At this point and time in St. Vincent and the Grenadines history, Roller Skating was the in-thing. I was a big part of this roller skates era. I was also dearly in love, with my first true love Janet. Janet meant the world to me.

The Most High God used Janet to play an important role in my life. After my mother died, my life was shattered and suffered in every aspect of my living. I suffered emotionally, socially, academically etc. My confidence was shot. I moved from a witty, intelligent, talkative child, to a shy timid kid. However, all this changed, when I was fourteen years old; exactly seven years after I lost my dear mother.

There was a drastic and unexpected change in events, that occurred. My life turned around when Janet entered my life and showered me with her love. When this happened, it was like a light switch suddenly turned on within me and expelled the darkness. Now, I was able to shake myself, out of the dazed, I was trapped in; for seven years.

Janet always spoke of and looked forward to, the time when she and the other members of her family, would join, in Janet's case her grandmother in the United States of America. I dread the thought of losing Janet to migration, but it was more than likely, it was inevitable.

I could remember it like it was yesterday, when Janet came to me bursting with joy and overwhelmed with excitement. She was happy and she wanted to share the good news with me. Janet's immigration papers were successfully processed and returned, she was now eligible to travel to and live in the USA. She was just in her early teens and looked forward to a new life, of endless possibilities.

Janet's good news, represented major disappointed for me. For soon, I was going to lose the most important person in my life. I did not want to be a selfish, party pooper, by bringing to Janet's attention, what her exciting news meant for our relationship. I kept my thoughts to myself and I celebrated with Janet. At this juncture, Janet's happiness was most important.

When the reality of how her migration, was going to affect our beautiful relationship set in, and Janet realized, we will be torn apart, she told her mom, she don't want to go to America again; she changed her mind. But Janet was just a minor; she had no say in the matter. Her papers were fixed and she was going to America, weather she wanted to or not.

After Janet left our shores for the USA, I was lonely and I felt lost, so I became consumed with roller skating, it was one of the things, Janet and I spent a lot of time doing together, As a result, I became extremely good on the roller skates. I was able to do lots of very cool things on skates.

Because of my Roller-Skating skills, I received a lot of attention from many girls. However, none of the girls who were interesting in me; were good enough, to fill the void Janet's absence left within my heart. The truth is: I did not want anyone but Janet. So, I ignored all of the female attention that came my way.

One of the things we did as Roller Skaters was: we hanged-out at the Kingstown Netball Center, we often used the hard court at the center; to practice our roller-skating skills and play games on the skates. As a result, we became very friendly with the net-ballers.

It was during this period that I came to know and became friendly with, a beautiful net baller by the name of Bridget Ash. Bridget was beautiful, intelligent, funny; witty and fun to be with and around. I slowly began to fall in love with Bridget; and as I got to know her better, the more I loved her. Bridget began to fill the void in my heart, left by Janet's absence.

I wanted to take my relationship with Bridget, to the next level, but I was not sure, Bridget felt the same way about me, as I felt about her. It has been several years since Janet left St. Vincent and the Grenadines, I kept my end of the pact we made to each other. However, it was just about time, to let Janet know, it is time for us to move on with our separate lives.

I did not share my feelings or my plans for Bridget with anyone. I was not going to sabotage my plans for Bridget, by prematurely sharing my feeling about her with anyone, while I was in the process to figuring out, the best approach to let Bridget know how I felt about her, I got some troubling news.

While I was trying to come up with a plan to sway Bridget into my life, Bread-head told me, one of our friends was in love with Bridget and he asked him, to put in a good word with Bridget for him.

When I heard this awful news, I immediately but reluctantly, stop my pursuit of Bridget, I did not want to be the source of any disharmony among the Roller Skaters. Some time later, Bread-head told me, our mutual friend requested, I put in a good word with Bridget on his behalf. To which I agreed.

One evening after the netball game and netball practice ended, I told Bridget I will like to have a private conversation with her. I noticed Bridget became visibly happy, when I requested a private conversation with her. Later Bridget and I excused ourselves from her friends.

I said "Bridget such and such (person's name) is in love with you and he asked me to put in a good word with you for him. Before I could continue, making my case, on my friend's behalf, I noticed tears began running from Bridget's eyes, down onto her cheeks. Through her tears Bridget said to me, Allan how could you do such a thing. Bridget said this over and over through her tears.

I did not know what my beautiful friend was speaking about, I became confused. All I wanted to do, was to help a friend find love, I did not intend to make my beautiful, always cheerful friend: Bridget cry. My objective quickly changed, now my goal was to get Bridget to stop crying and to find out, what I did wrong, so I could apologize to her and correct my error if I could.

When Bridget friends passed us on their way home, they began to make sly remarks, which implied, Bridget and I were romantically involved. Or was on the verge of a romance. However, Bridget kept her face to the wall; she did not want, any of her friends to know she was crying her eye balls out.

I became confused and I began to get frustrated, I wanted to know What I did to my friend so I asked Bridget what did I do. After I asked that question, Bridget made an effort to regained her composers then she said to me.

"Allan; I don't love your friend, I love you, it is you I love. For weeks, I have been rattling my brain; trying to figure-out, how to get your attention, how to let you know, how I feel about you. It is you I want, instead of you coming to talk to me for yourself; you are talking to me for someone else."

Bridget paused for a little moment, then she continued, I have no interest in that guy, she referred to my brother on skate by an unflattering name. We went to school together, If I was interested in him, we would have been together a long time ago. It is you I want, Allan it is you I love; after Bridget said her piece, the sobbing began once again.

I was caught between a rock and a hard place. I loved Bridget tremendously and I just found out she loves me too. But I promised my friends to work on Bridget on his behalf.

By this time, all of Bridget's friends had left, and the dark of night have engulfed us. It would not be right for me, to let this beautiful, heart broken damsel walked home in the dark by herself. Bridget was happy when I offered to walk her home. We slowly walked along the dark star lit streets to her home, just two friends chatting. I enjoyed Bridget's company and every step we took together.

I knew I had to have a conversation with my friends, my brother on skates, the one on whose behalf I was working; but the truth would have crush his already fragile self-esteem. What do I do? I continue to put off the conversation, I knew I should have had with my friend. In all honesty, I did not know how to tell my friends the truth.

As my relationship with Bridget grew into a beautiful relationship, I convinced myself; maybe, just maybe; he will forget the whole sorry episode and move on. But he did not.

It was not to long after, I heard some of my Roller Skates brothers said to me. Our friends, told them, he told me, to put in a good word with Bridget for him and I went and put in many good words for myself and took Bridget for myself. My broken hearted brother was not wrong, to believe that because he was not exposed to the reality.

It was then I explained to my friends, who accused me to my face, of betraying the trust, our mutual friend placed in me, then they understood the situation I found myself in; after I explained to them, I wanted to tell our mutual friend but I didn't know how to break such a news to him. No one wanted to share the sad but difficult reality with our mutual friend. And up to this day, I did not build up the courage to.

Maybe, just maybe; it was/is better for my friend, to view me as the one who betrayed his trust; than to have told him the awful, hurtful truth.

What would you have done?

When I was a teenager, attending the Kingstown, Seventh day Adventist church, a young church member, came to church, one Sabbath, with Jerry curls hair style. An upstanding female elder give her a good talking too about getting involved in worldly activities.

About a month or so latter that same, upstanding female elder came to church wearing a Jerry curls hairstyle, just like the one young lady she gives a talking too had. Not one word of criticism was hauled at her and that upstanding female elder never apologize to the young lady.

Sometime later, one Sabbath, the Superintendent wanted to spice up the Sabbath school program with a skit. The skit was about the woman with the issue of blood. They had people to play all of the parts except the part of Jesus.

They came to me, and asked me to play the role of Jesus. They were convinced I will make a good Jesus. To which I agreed to play the part of Jesus. The same upstanding elder passed by and saw our last minute rehearsal, she said:

"I am not comfortable with someone being Jesus, I think, you should just have the voice speaking the words of Jesus. You can stay behind the curtain and say your part".

Everyone agree Allan is not Jesus it is just a dramatization of Jesus. She said I know but I don't think it is right. Since the upstanding female elder overruled the youths, and the upstanding elder is so petty, I said I am not going to participate.

I went back to my seat, only to see the skit with, with a pink skin youth, playing the role of Jesus; as I was too. Wow! That same Sabbath just after the pink skin youth had just finished playing Jesus, I heard him in a casual conversation, in the church yard, with some other church youth, his age; he was flinging out fucks, like it was the word bless.

What was interesting; this upstanding female elder was black as night. I wondered to myself, what about me that was offensive to this lady? Was it my beautiful, golden skin, that looks like the skin of the so-called Jesus or was it the fact, I came from St. Vincent: Nazareth (Bottom Town)?

Opinion Please!

A very bitter sweet meeting.

She was one of the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and by far, the most beautiful, East Indian woman I have ever seen to date. She was no older than twenty-five years old. With beautiful skin that perfectly reflected the florescent light that filled the room, her beautiful face, filled the room with a special glow, I have never seen before; and her hair that draped, was long, black and silky; which extended down to her belly button.

She stood naked in my presence, her nude body, was now glued to mine; it was a perfect fit, as both of her arms encircled my waist, in a tight grip; as the right side of her face pressed firmly into my chest.

I felt the rapid pounding of her heart as it beat. Its strong, rapid and heavy beat gave the impression, her heart was trying, to leap out of her chest. Her heavy breathing, could be distinctly heard and I felt the rise and fall of her chest, which accommodated her breathing. I could also feel the heavy shaking of her naked body, as it trembled in a lopsided embrace.

The beautiful lady found the sense of security she needed, glued to my firm, strong and erect body and my presence represented a place of safety for her; and rightfully so.

My hand hung by my side, I refused to touch the beautiful, naked woman, who was now glued to me and occupied my presence. If I held her in my arms, for that brief moment, at this point, it would have been the right thing to do; but I could not bring myself to hold her; because it felt wrong.

Not because I was angry, with the woman or because I hate her, but because I experienced a level of discomfort with the situation, I found myself in; I was put on the spot. Maybe if there were two layers of clothing between the woman and I, it would have been different. How did I find myself in such an awkward situation, You may ask. Let me tell you how.

It all started, while I was on duty at Central Police Station, in Kingstown, St. Vincent and the Grenadines. I was urgently summoned to the station's office by Corporal (Cpl.) Evans. Cpl. Evans informed me, there was a report of screams that came from an apartment in Arnos Vale, in the road opposite Woods Tyre Shop.

Cpl. Even said to me, Mr. Quow called and instructed him, to send me to Calliaqua Police Station, to pick up the CID personnel, to go and deal with the matter. This incident was in the Calliaqua Police District.

I must say here, there is no lawful jurisdictional district in St. Vincent and the Grenadines, however the policing districts are their for management purposes. The members of the Royal St. Vincent Police Force: has the powers of arrest, in St. Vincent and all the island, that makes up St. Vincent and the Grenadines.

At the time I was given this instructions, the ten to six (10:00 PM to 6:00 AM) beat and patrol team, that patrolled Kingstown, was being parade in the yard at Central Police Station. In that lineup there were two senior constables: Letson Seaton, and Nero. These were two highly intelligent, intense and courage police officers.

I have seen first hand and I knew what Seaton could do. Seaton was the officer who within four hours; of working with him, shaped and fashioned the way I policed, throughout my policing career. I knew, with these two guys, together, there was no incident we will not be able to resolve.

I said Cpl. Evans, "this is a waste of time, and resources, if there is someone in distress, why would you have me drive passed the incident, which is about two and a half miles along the road way, proceed another, two and a half miles to Calliaqua Police Station, to pick up two police officers and return to the incident. When you have two bad-ass police officers, in the person of Seaton and Nero available right here right now.

These two men were experienced police officers; with a wealth of police knowledge and experience. I said to the Cpl. "Cpl. Evans, I know what Seaton can do. This doesn't make any sense."

Cpl. Evans replied to me, "this is what the officer say. I am only following instructions." "I said to the Cpl. That is why you are a Cpl. of police; the authorities know you are responsible and can make responsible decisions, you should make this call right here right now". Cpl. Evans insisted, he said: "I am follow the instructions as it came from the Superintendent Osborne Quow."

I understood the seriousness of my responsibility as a police officer, and I took my responsibility serious. Silly things like this, got me pretty worked up. But being a mere constable; I had no power to change anything but to do as I was told. Follow the instructions of my senior and Cpl. Evans was my senior.

However, I knew someone was in distress, who was in distress, I did not know, what was the nature of their distress; I did not know. My only concern was to get to the scene as soon as possible; to bring some form of relief to the person, from whatever distressed they were confronted with.

I could not help but to say to myself, how could these people be so irresponsible, This was disturbing on many levels. As a result, I drove the police vehicle, like it was an airplane; in my mind, there was someone who needed me to. I got to Calliaqua in very little time. Even the two police officers were surprised I got there so quickly. When I saw the two police officers, I was sent to pick up; to deal with the incident, I began to fume. However, I held my peace.

With the same level of urgency I got to Calliaqua, it was with the same level of urgency I drove back to Arnos Vale with. I drove at such high speed, the male police who was assigned to CID, who sat in the pinion driver seat, held onto the dashboard of the vehicle to brace himself as the female police officer braced herself by wedging her knees into the back of the seat in front of her.

When we got to the scene of the incident, I was still angry, about everything, I decided, I am not getting out of the vehicle, then I was reminded, the possible victim had nothing to do, with the poor police administration and the assignment of the force's personnel. So I accompanied the two officers from the Calliaqua Police Station, to deal with the incident.

We were met by the landlady, the person who made the report. She met us at the gate and directed us to the place from which, she heard the screams. The landlady also informed us of why she called.

She rented the ground floor of her house, to an Indian lady, who worked with the United Nations and was on assignment in St. Vincent and the Grenadines, and attached to the Agriculture Department on an UN sponsored program. It is not customary, for the young lady to have guess, at her apartment, because she was new here and she didn't know anyone. However, tonight screams were heard coming from her ground floor apartment, then the screams stopped suddenly. The landlady also told us of her failed efforts, to contact her Tennant.

I stood in the background, while the two police officer from the Calliaqua Police Station, dealt with the issues. The C.I.D officer began to knock on the door, I said to him, don't knock on the door, you are not a visitor. Pound on the door and let whoever is inside know the police is out here and instructed them to open the door.

When the C.I.D officer followed my suggestion, the door was opened by a naked male. I immediately recognize the familiar face: of the man who answered the door; and so did the CID officer. Snowy was the naked man that answer the door.

Anyone who knows Snowy, knew Snowy was a vagabond and was always in entanglement with the law.

The CID officer: "Snowy what he is doing here?

Snowy: I came to spend the evening with his girlfriend.

The CID officer: where is the lady who lives in this apartment.

Snowy: "She is in the bedroom relaxing," Snowy confidentiality replied.

CID officer: tell her the police is here and we will like to speak with her.

All this time Snowy was still naked and took up a position in from of the corridor that led to the bedroom. Also, the three police officers, were in the house, but we stood in front of the door that led into the apartment.

Then Snowy emerged from behind the corridor with a beautiful naked Indian lady, which he held extremely close to him. The lady was asked basic questions to find out, if she was in any danger, the lady answered all of the questions in the affirmative, clearing Snowy of any wrong doing.

Although the lady answered the questions, she did not really answer any of the questions. She shocked her head yes and or no, her lips moved in a manner that qualified the head movement, but no word came from her mouth. Now Snowy began to accused the police of interrupting his evening.

The CID officer and his female companion were satisfied, this incident did not required police intervention. I was somewhat convinced like my two colleagues were, but something was wrong, I did not know what was wrong. But something with this scenario did not sit well with me.

By this time both my colleagues, excused themselves and went back to the police vehicle and took up their place in the vehicle. I stood in front of the door of the apartment still on the inside of the rented dwelling, trying to figure out what was wrong with the picture, I now looked at. On hindsight, I could see several things that were wrong, with the picture that stood before me, in the rented apartment, but in the moment, when it counted; I drew a blank.

I stood there never taking my eyes off the nude couple, I knew I was missing something that was so obvious. I also knew, I could not stay in the rented apartment all night, becoming a nuisance to the couple. I then took two steps backwards, I then turned my body; as if I was turning to leave but my head and eyes remained fixed on the nude couple.

When I turned as if I was about to leave, still observing the couple, I noticed something I did not noticed before. For the first time since, the Tennant of the rented ground floor apartment, came face to face with the police; she exhibited fear.

The lady's eyes opened wide and terror discolored her face, her mouth also fell open, every drip of hope, she had; when the police came, to her aid, was snatched away from her, when I turned away.

I used this as an impetus to call the CID officer whom I knew quite well and by name. I said to him, come and properly deal with this report. I get the impression the young C.I.D officer, who was my senior, was not fully convinced all was well in the rented apartment.

On my request, the CID officer and the female police officer run back to the apartment, when the CID officer, got into the apartment, I told him what I noticed, then he said; using a firm commanding voice: "Snowy let her go."

As soon as the beautiful Indian lady heard, the serious command, which came from my colleagues' mouth, the lady broke free from Snowy's hold and ran a crossed the room, she bypassed the female police officer, and she ran directly into my arms. Her nude body glued to mine; a perfect fit, as both of her arms encircled my waist, in a tight grip; as the right side of her face pressed firmly into my chest.

I felt the rapid pounding of her heart as it beat. Its strong, rapid and heavy beat, gives the impression, her heart was trying to leap out of her chest. Her heavy breathing could be distinctly heard and I felt the rise and fall of her chest, that accommodated her breathing.

I could also feel the heavy shaking of her naked body, as it trembled in a lopsided embrace. The beautiful lady has found the sense of security she needed, glued to my firm, strong and erect body and my presence represented a place of safety; and rightfully so.

My hand hung by my side, I refused to touch the beautiful, naked woman; who was now glued to me and occupied my presence. If I held her in my arms, for that brief moment, at this stage, it would have been the right thing to do; but I could not bring myself to hold her; because it felt wrong. I experienced a level of discomfort with the situation, I found myself in. I was put on the spot. May be if there were two layers of clothing between the woman and I, it would have been different.

I carefully and gently peal the sobbing woman off of my person and I motioned with my head, to the female police officer to come; which she did. I then handed her over to the female police officer, who held her, in the manner that would help bring some level of comfort, which would help in her recovery from the Trauma she had just experienced.

She is still on my pedestal. By: Chief Strong-Blood.

Since I was about three years old, I knew exactly, what I wanted to do with my life. My plan was a simple but a beautiful plan. No complications and certainly no drama.

At three years old my plan was to grow up, get married to Michelle, and spend the rest of my life, making her happy. Even at that tender age, I knew, it was only fair, for me to do all in my power, to ensure Michelle get to feel and experience; the same level of ecstasy, I felt and experienced, when and while I was with and in her presence.

As children, we did not see each other very often, but when we did, it was like magic, and my world was decorated with, joy, peace, beauty and of course love. I cannot speak for Michelle, I do not know, if my presence and friendship generated the same level of ecstacy; I derived from Michelle's presence and friendship.

Then suddenly, my perfect world of childhood love, was struck, with a might sledge hammer, severely fracturing my perception of who my Michelle was; however, the love and affection I had for her never changed even onto this day. The proceeding is the account of how Michelle won my heart.

My mother's name is Verina, Mother was affectionately known by villagers as Tan-tan. Mother was born and grew up in the small, costal village, on the leeward side of the island: of St. Vincent and the Grenadines. The name of that village is Questelles. Mother was number thirteen of fourteen children, my grandmother Courtney had; which was simplified with three set of twins.

By the time I was born, my parents would have been married for more than twenty six years. Upon tying the matrimonial knot, Mother left the small rural village of Questelles, and she moved to the capital: Kingstown; where her husband: Hamilton, prepared a home for her.

At this time in St. Vincent and the Grenadines history, I speak of the time, Michelle and I connected, there were no public transportation system, as it still is today. However, private citizens purchased large truck like vehicles, with a bear Chassis, upon which, a large wooden cabins were built and within the wooden cabins, long sprong covered wooden benches were placed. These buses travelled from several main points across the Island to the capital Kingstown.

Residence of all the villages that were not close to the main road that wines it's way through the hills, mountains and valleys, had to walk to the main road, to catch the bus to and from their destination.

A trip to Questelles had to be properly planned. Because mother did not just go to visit. However, she also took packages for her mother, her other siblings and others who expected and looked forward to her visit.

Although mother left Questelles some thirty years earlier, and she visited several times a year, each time we visited, it seems like we were visiting for the first time. Everyone was excited to see us, they treated Mother like a queen and us her children, like dignatories. It seems like Mother knew everyone, it also seems like we visited every house in the villages of Questelles, and Clay Valley and they all looked forward to the visit from Mother.

As a child I looked forward to visiting four home, I looked forward to Visiting Mammy, my Grand mother Courtney, who in my opinion, even at the age of ninety years old, was the most physically Beautiful woman I have ever seen. Mammy always had fried fish, that were heavily coated in black pepper, which she used as a preservative; because she did not have a refrigerator.

I looked forward to visiting my Grandfather: Wilfred, who I knew; genuinely loved me, Grandfather: Wilfred, always get me, the best and the sweetest fruits he had on his farm, I also looked forward to visiting Mother Young. This is where we finally get some relief from hours of walking. The visit to Mother Young's home marked the end of our visit to Questelles. Here Mother, Mother Young and Pearlo often sit back and talk while we waited on the taxi or my brother Albert, to come to take us home.

But the visit I most looked forward to, was our visit to Auntie Hoyte's home. Auntie Hoyte is not my real auntie; however, in this case; the word auntie, is a title given to a respected woman within the community. Our grandmother Courtney ensured her children referred to Mrs. Hoyte as auntie, and it automatically transferred to her grandchildren. Here is where Auntie Hoyte's grand daughters Michelle and Lynette lived. I could remember it like it was yesterday, I was about three years old or there about, While visiting Auntie Hoyte's home, by this stage in her life, Auntie Hoyte was quite an old woman.

Michelle, Lynette and I were playing on the floor of auntie Hoyte's living room. We got too close to Auntie Hoyte's center table, which, was neatly decorated with a lot of little ceramic figereans of the people featured in the Nativity Story: Jesus, Mary, Joseph, Angeles, etc. she also had figereans of animals of all types. There was also a mat under the center table, that had an even larger number of these small ornaments. To ensure we did not break any of her dear and precious ornaments, Auntie Hoyte declared children you all go into the yard and play.

We were sitting on the steps, on the out side of auntie Hoyte's house with nothing to do. Because the conversation of children, is often generated around some type of activity. We sat there, fiddling with Michelle girl toys. Then Michelle said to me, "would you like me to show you something you have never seen before." I said yes. Then Michelle declared, "come and let me show you."

I followed Michelle to the northern side of Auntie Hoyte's house, Michelle got down on all four, then she crawled under auntie Hoyte's house and I followed her. Like her Yard, beneath Auntie Hoyte's house was unpaved, the dirt were exposed. Lynette had no interest in going under her grandmother's house and did not joined us.

While we were under Auntie Hoyte's house, Michelle brought to my attention, some little holes in the dry, soft, loose dirt, then she said "you see these holes, some little animal lives in these holes, they are called Back-back Turtles."

I did not know what to think of Michelle's claims, Then Michelle puckered her lips, bend over, and she gentle blew away, some of the soft, powder-like dirt from one of the holes; exposing a small creature. I was amazed, by what was just revealed to me.

I then noticed the creature began to move backwards, as it tunneled it's way beneath the loose soil. Now it was my turn. We spend quite a significant amount of time unearthing these tiny creatures and we looked at them, as they repositioned themselves in the soil.

Then the worst thing that could have happened, at that very moment happened. It was time for us to leave. Mother had a lot of people whom she must visit including her siblings. All of whom, would be disappointed, if the children did not come to visit with her. I did not want to leave. I also noticed, Michelle became visibly upset, when she discovered it was time for me to go.

From that day forward each day, I asked Mother, when are we going back to Questelles. Whenever, we visited Questelles, I could not wait, to get to Auntie Hoyte's home. On my arrival to Auntie Hoyte's house; Immediately, and even without a suggestion, Michelle and I headed under Auntie Hoyte's house, we picked up right where we left off, from my last visit. This became our trend. Whatever, Michelle and I were doing, when I was so unceremoniously ripped away from my fun with Michelle, the next time we met, like clock work, we began my visit doing the same thing.

Michelle became my favorite person, the one I talk up a storm with, the one with whom I had the most fun. I loved being with and hated leaving her presence. Then Mother got ill and our visits to Questelles stopped. Mother subsequently died. And our visits to the birth place of my mother, got scarcer and scarcer.

After Mother's death, our visits to Questelles took on a new dimensions. Now my big brother: Albert was the one who initiated the visits, the people we visited on these visits, became comparatively limited. Of course we always visited our Grandmother: Courtney, and my mother siblings who lived within the immediate environment, we also visited Mother Young, and my deceased Grandfather's home. There was no time to visit Auntie Hoyte's home so I can spend time with my favorite person Michelle.

Some time later, in my desire to see Michelle, I convinced my cousin Merle, who had just crossed over into adulthood, we should go to Questelles to visit our Grandmother. This was a pretext; so I could get to see and spend time with my best friend Michelle. This was not to say, I did not want to see Mammy, I was always happy to see and to be with my Grandmother, however on this visit, the driving force was Michelle.

When we got to Questelles, I discovered like Mother; Merle knew everyone and where everyone lived, and they all knew her. This made things easier.

For me, our visit to Auntie Hoyte's home was bitter-sweet. We were greeted by Auntie Hoyte, who was happy to see us. When we asked for Michelle, Auntie Hoyte information us; Michelle and Lynette no longer live with her. They are now living in "Town" with their mother. "Town" means Kingstown. Auntie Hoyte gave Merle the direction to her daughter's new residence; then she said to me, "now you will be able to see Michelle more often, you no longer have to come all the way to Questelles to see her, for she is living in Town like you are; it will be easy for you to see her."

This was not as easy as Auntie Hoyte's said. Michelle lived about ten blocks from where I lived, on the opposite side of Kingstown, I was not permitted to go that far away from home unsupervised; unless I was going to school.

Merle promised that we will go to visit Michelle at her mother's home one Saturday after church. When we did, visited Auntie Marrie, Michelle's mother, who operated a liquor and grocery shop, on the ground floor of her house, she told us Michelle was not at home and Auntie Marrie slyly ushered us away quickly.

Although I did not believe Auntie Marrie, however, upon hinesight, when I considered, it was Saturday, Auntie Marrie's busyest day for the liquor aspect of her business; and her Clientele were made up of stevedores and construction workers, a bunch of swearing ruffians, who conducted friendly conversations with each other; where every other word was a swear word; they will also fight at the drop of a pin.

It would not have been prudent parenting, for Auntie Marrie to expose her primary school age children, to this type of rowdy crowd, or to have Merle and I, in such an environment, for a prolonged period.

I did not see Michelle for quite a long while, Then a few years later, I heard a rumor about Michelle. This rumor got me angry, jealous and bitter. I was so disappointed, I did not want to believe what I heard; but how could I not. It could have been malicious; but, I was too young and too inexperienced to tell the difference. I wanted to know the truth, but I was to hurt to even ask her.

I became bitter; but Michelle was never the recipient of my bitterness. Whenever I met Michelle, which was not very often and we became engaged in a conversation, I get that beautiful, special feeling, but I could not let it be made known, although I was bitter, I pretended to be otherwise.

However, at this point, I did not want Michelle making me feel special, I wanted to be left alone with and in my bitterness. I always ended the conversation as soon as it was possible and scurry along my way. I was never rude, obnoxious or impolite, because she didn't deserve to be the recipient of my bitterness.

The only thing I could have done, was to build new, better and even more beautiful memories with someone else. I built some extremely beautiful memories; but the question is: were they better? The funniest thing was: the old, formative, and beautiful memories, and the affection I developed for Michelle refused to leave. I always saw her as special, the one to be placed on a pedestal and there is where she was in my heart and mind.

Today thousands of gallons of water have flown under that bridge, life happened, mistakes were made; reality exist and memories don't live like people do they always stay with you.

On Wednesday 10th of March 2024, I dreamt of Michelle, it was such a pure, and beautiful, dream, I became as excited as I was, when we were children steeped in innocence spending quality time together. I could not allowed this moment to past with out capturing it with words.