JEROME TEELUCKSINGH - SHOCKING NEWS

Jerome Teelucksingh is from Trinidad & Tobago, in the Caribbean. His short story ‘Cricket in the Caribbean’ was published in the Caribbean Writer and ‘Pastor Tries to Save The Environment’ was featured in the anthology Jewels of the Caribbean. In 2018, he published three short stories in Tuck Magazine.   His poetry have appeared in magazines and journals including the Poetry Box, Taj Mahal Review, Journal of South Texas Studies, San Pedro Review and Diálogos

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SHOCKING  NEWS
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​            ‘Mister stop hurrying, or I will cut your nuts.’ Janice swung the cutlass and split the coconut for the customer to consume the soft jelly. There was a long line of persons who wanted to enjoy the coconut water and jelly. Some brought empty containers to be filled with coconut water.
Her job demanded precision and dexterity. There was no room for mistakes.
She was the lone female vendor of coconuts at the Queen’s Park Savannah in Port-of-Spain, the capital of Trinidad and Tobago. This job allowed Janice to meet many tourists. Also she made friends with the joggers and those who regularly enjoyed a leisurely stroll during the early mornings or late evenings.
In 1981 one of the foreigners Janice met was Pauline Jogie. Pauline was born in Scotland in 1961. Her father, Chris, was an Indo-St.Vincentian who was born in the Caribbean in 1935. Her mother, Sylvia, was of mixed ethnicity and born in London in 1934. Her mother was a university lecturer at the University of London whilst her dad was a musician. Sylvia’s father was Scottish and her mother was Irish.
Pauline was not sure how to identify herself. In terms of citizenship, she was British. With respect to her ethnicity, it was difficult for her to establish a distinct identity. Her surname gave her the identity of an Indo-Caribbean but her light-skinned complexion and British accent made her appear White.
In 1977, Pauline spent two weeks in Kingston, St. Vincent. She wanted to escape the winter but also to meet cousins, aunts and uncles who she never knew. She stayed at the Cobblestone Inn. The experience was an eye-opener for Pauline who lived a comfortable middle-class lifestyle in England. She visited relatives at Layou and Bambarou and was horrified to see them surviving without running water and indoor toilets. When Pauline returned to Scotland she began sending money to these relatives in St. Vincent.  She decided that every year during the winter months she would visit a Caribbean island.
‘Good morning madam. I would like to purchase a coconut.’
‘Water nut or jelly?’
‘Water would be fine.’
            Janice began searching the pile. She found a large coconut and began trimming
the top of it. Janice gave the coconut and a straw to Pauline. She then used an old rag to
wipe the cutlass. ‘So how long are you spending in Trinidad?’
‘I’m renting in Westmoorings for four months. The winters are so cold and dreary in Scotland, and I usually choose a warm place to spend a few months. Next month I plan to witness the Carnival here. Have you ever participated in Carnival in the city of Port-of-Spain?’
            Janice laughed. ‘Of course, I regularly participate in Carnival. When I was younger I would wear costumes depicting the moko jumbie and blue devil.’
Trinidad’s Carnival is an illustration of acculturation which occurred as a result of the cultural influences of the French and slaves. After the prohibition of Carnival, during the Canboulay celebrations, the Blacks included characters from Trinidad’s folklore. These included the phantom, Papa Bois, diablesse, loup garou, and soucouyant. Blacks also introduced dragons, imps, clowns, robbers, bats and devils. Interestingly, the fun, sanctimonious display and satire juxtaposed with the monstrous characters reflect our personal struggle with good and evil.
            ‘I’ve never heard of those characters,’ said Pauline.
            Janice began cutting other coconuts for customers. Pauline handed the empty nut
to Janice who flung it in a growing pile. The well-known Notting Hill Carnival
celebrations in Britain began in 1958 when Claudia Jones, an Afro-Trinidadian activist
and writer, organized a Trinidad-style Mardi Gras at St. Pancras Town Hall. One of the
prominent individuals involved in Notting Hill is Lawrence Hill. He is a Trinidadian who
migrated to London in 1959, and believed that Carnival creates a togetherness among
West Indians and places Trinidad and Tobago’s culture on the map. Today the
celebrations at Notting Hill are considered the largest in Europe.  The well-known annual
Caribana Festival in Toronto, began in 1967 as a community heritage project to recognize
Canada’s centenary. Caribana, a version of Trinidad’s annual Carnival, attracts not only
Caribbean-born persons but other ethnic groups who enjoy the jovial atmosphere with its
music, food and costumed characters.
             ‘I would like another coconut please.’ Pauline began drinking the second coconut. She wanted to try this one without using the straw. She saw other persons tilting their heads and emptying the nut in their mouths. After drinking it she wiped her mouth with a tissue and handed the empty nut to Janice. ‘I’ve never been to Tobago and would like to visit it.’
            Janice thumped her chest. ‘I am from Tobago.’
            Pauline was surprised. ‘Are there any places you would recommend visiting in Tobago?’
            Passing cars blew their horns to attract the attention of Janice. She did not turn her head and instead casually raised her hand to acknowledge them. These were regular customers who were hurrying to work. Most of the taxi-drivers in Port-of-Spain were familiar with Janice. ‘Next time come here and stay longer so you will be able to see the famous goat race and crab race…in Easter time in Tobago.’
            ‘Why do you think I will be returning?’
            Janice laughed. ‘You make sure and eat the cascadoo fish and you will return.’ Whenever you are in Tobago try some of the pigeon peas, nut-cake and bene-balls.’
            ‘Where are the famous Botanical Gardens?’ asked Pauline. She was a botanist.
            ‘It’s next to the President’s House.’ Janice began to cut more coconuts for customers who made a short queue.
            When there were no more customers, Janice advised Pauline, ‘Be careful of some of the Trinidadians. They are scamps who like to overcharge and rob tourists.’ She scratched under her arm.
            Pauline became worried. ‘How do I recognize these tricksters?’
            Janice smiled. ‘Stay away from people with gold teeth in de mouth and who seem
extra friendly. We need more people in this country who live honest and have morals. I
lead an honest life selling coconuts. My husband is a taxi-driver and also sells in the
Scarborough market. Is Trinidad spoiling Tobago’s tourist industry with their crime and
racism.’
            Pauline brushed her hand past her face to chase away the flies which were attracted to the empty coconut shells. ‘I want to buy a few items of food such as cheese, jam and sausages. Is there a grocery nearby?’
            Janice used her protruding lower lip to point to the adjoining street, ‘Walk up that street and on the right side is Wong Grocery at the corner of Queen and Henry Streets. The prices are cheap.’
            ‘Well thanks for all your advice and time.’ Before leaving, Pauline snapped a photograph of Janice posing by her truck cutting coconuts.
            ‘Yes, nice meeting you and hope to see you again,’ said Janice.
            Pauline crossed the road and began to walk up the street. She passed a bar that had the sign- ‘We sell the best blended rum.’ She adjusted her skirt and entered the small grocery. She greeted the shopkeeper who was chatting with the customers at the counter.
            The shopkeeper was Wong Chin. He was of Chinese descent, plump, had grey hair and was sixty five years old. ‘Morning miss. How can I help?’
            Pauline liked his accent. ‘Good morning. I would like a block of cheese, some
strawberry jam and sausages.’                      
            ‘The sausages are in the fridge near the door, you can help yourself. I’ll get the
cheese.’ Wong went into a room at the back of his shop and returned with a block of
cheese in a plastic bag. He weighed it and wrote the price with a black marker.
            Khaleel Hosein entered the store. He was an Indo-Trinidadian in his mid forties. He was a doctor who recently returned from a pilgrimage to Mecca. He sat on the stool near the counter. ‘Morning everyone. Wong please give me two pounds of flour.’ He took the Express newspaper from the pile on the counter and began to read it. ‘What is the latest news?’
            Wong quickly replied, ‘The police killed three more drug lords in the Rio Claro Forest who were hiding among some ganja fields. They were responsible for the increase in ganja smoking.’         
            Khaleel spent a few minutes browsing through the feature story. ‘Yes, I saw it on television. Crime is very bad.’ He avoided eye contact with Pauline who was waiting at the counter.
             ‘Instead of strawberry jam, would you like to try homemade guava jam?’ asked Wong.
            Pauline never tasted guava jam and was eager to try it. ‘Yes, sure that would be fine.’
            Khaleel stopped reading. He looked at her. ‘I know that accent. I assume you’re British and visiting our country?’
            ‘Yes. I’m spending a few months here. I’m from Scotland,’ said Pauline.
            ‘Oh, Scotland.’ He paused and stared at the outdated calendar on the wall. ‘I never met anyone from that area. Do you like it?’
            ‘Actually yes. The people are very friendly.’
            This was an incentive for Khaleel to continue the conversation. ‘So are you a researcher? On a business trip?’
            Pauline smiled and ‘Just holidays to avoid the winter.’ Khaleel nodded and continued reading the newspaper.
            Gregor Fareed entered the store. He was dressed in school uniform. He
was a Syrian who was a Form Six student of Fatima College. Fatima College was his
third choice of schools he wanted to attend. When he wrote the Common Entrance
Examinations he neither qualified for his first nor second choices- St. Mary’s College and
Queen’s Royal College. ‘Good morning everyone. Mr. Chin could I get a bottle of
Satchmo and a nutcake please? He sat next to Khaleel.
            Wong reached into a fridge with glass doors and offered him the bottle. ‘Here you go. That will be 25 cents.’
            Gregory paid him and opened the bottle. He sipped it and glanced at the headlines of the newspaper. ‘Did you hear that the nurses are planning to strike? They want more money and better working conditions.’
            Khaleel stopped reading and looked at Gregory. ‘Really? ‘Everybody feel that the prime minister could just get up one morning and give everybody a fat raise.’
            Gregory nodded and smiled. Pauline was not interested in politics but she knew
the important role of politicians in assisting the people. She began browsing through the
food shelves.
            Khaleel told Gregory that Pauline was a tourist from Scotland. Gregory looked
suspiciously at Pauline. He did not know what to tell her. The topic of food was always
on his mind. ‘Miss you must try the bake and shark being sold near Maracas Beach.’
            ‘Okay. I will try it soon,’ replied Pauline. She sensed that Gregory did not like foreigners.
            Khaleel reached into his pocket and withdrew a crumpled piece of paper. It was a list of items his wife wanted him to buy. ‘Wong I almost forgot… give me two packs of Red Seal margarine, three tins of Klim, Milo and Ovaltine. And also five soft drinks and two pounds of saltfish.’
            Wong took the paper from Khaleel and went to the back of the store for the items. Gregory removed the paper from the nutcake and bit a piece off. Khaleel shouted to Wong who was still in the back of the store. ‘Yeah Wong, add to that list– two packs of salt prunes, toolum and a tambran ball.’
            Wong heard him and responded in a feeble voice, ‘Okay.’
            Gregory threw the empty bottle of juice and wrapping in the pigtail bucket next to the counter. This served as the shop’s dustbin. ‘Mr. Wong, when you’re finished please give me a bottle of mauby and a Smilk.’
            ‘Okay.’ He placed the mauby and Smilk on the counter.
            Wong returned from the back with items and placed them in bags. He gave Gregory the mauby. Khaleel moved two bags to his side of the counter and paid Wong.
            Pauline asked, ‘Why do people vote according the race rather than issues such as
good governance or less corruption?’
            Khaleel scoffed. ‘Voting for issues! That will never happen in Trinidad!’ Gregory sipped the mauby. Wong had missed most of the conversation and began to place the items Pauline wanted in a brown bag.
             Gregory’s parents were financial supporters of the ruling political party. ‘Yes, my
uncle who own the Syrian cloth store on Frederick Street says the same thing. Did you
hear that last week Sylvia died?’
When Wong heard this news he dropped the tins he was putting into the bag. He
looked at Khaleel to see his expression. ‘Is it a rumour? How did she die?’
            ‘A vein burst in her head. That is what the doctor said.’
            ‘When is the funeral?’ asked Wong.
            ‘Tomorrow. They are cremating her by the Caroni River.’
            Gregory had a forlorn expression. Wong shook his head. ‘That was one of my friendliest customers.’ He had a sad tone in his voice. ‘Doctors in Trinidad always killing people, and it seems that going to the hospital is like going to the funeral home.’
            Gregory disposed of the empty bottle and before returning to his seat glanced
through the shop’s window. He saw a familiar face approaching the shop. ‘Look
how Janice coming down de road as if she saw a zombie.’
            Khaleel peeped through the window. ‘She is real trouble.’
            Janice entered the store and wildly waved both hands in a hysterical manner. She screamed, ‘THE PRIME MINISTER DEAD….’ Her face was flushed and she began gasping for air. Khaleel, Pauline, Wong and Gregory were shocked.   
            Khaleel guided her to a stool. He tried to calm her but it was futile. ‘What? Slow down. The man was ninety years old, everybody have to die.’          
Wong switched on the radio. There was a newsflash about the death of the
prime minister. He increased the volume. Everyone, except Janice, moved closer to the radio. The announcement soon ended and the station played an old calypso on the recently deceased prime minister.  
            Wong shook his head and began wiping the counter with a damp rag. ‘Life will become more difficult. The economy will suffer.’
            During the newsflash Janice had regained her composure. ‘The prime minister was like Moses...he lead us from British colonialism into the promised land of freedom. He died so young. It is true what they say, that the good does die young. And look how he dead so close to Good Friday and Easter Sunday. That is a sign that he was our messiah.’