Innocent on the run. Part 40.

Ricky went back through the street market to his digs. His clothes had been washed and ironed and he changed into them. It was nearly dinner time and he washed and combed his hair. He wondered how long the gang in Galveston had waited for him to reappear again, and smiled to himself now that he was safely out of their clutches. The meal was ready and Betty called up the stairs to him. He was the only guest and Betty had spoiled him. There was Jamaica Pepperpot Soup, a thick combination of spinach, pig's tail, garlic and onion, thickened with coconut milk. This was followed by fried fish, with flat hotcakes, smothered in butter. The main course was roast pork with rice and peas, and yams baked in the skins, dripping with butter. After eating this assortment Ricky was stuffed, but Bette insisted he try some fruit as well. He leaned back after his first decent meal in a week and thanked Betty very much. `How long you stayin'?' she asked. `I don't know,' he replied. 'I have to report to the consul tomorrow at eleven. They're trying to send me home to the U.K.' `Why, what you done ?' `My ship sailed without me, so they have to send me back as a Distressed British Seaman.' `Oh, well. You can stay here long as you like. I got plenty of room.' 'Thanks, but I don't know if I've got enough money to stay very long. The consul might give me some money, but he didn't seem to like me very much. I wouldn't like to ask him for any favours.' `You don't need no money here. I'se glad of de company. Since my ol' man died an' me boy got married an' moved out, I been lonely. Never thought I'd miss me ol' man so much. He was a lazy good for nothin,' but it sure is quiet without him.' She busied herself clearing the table. `Can I help.' Ricky said, rising from the table. `Nope, you go out an' enjoy yourself. Dere'll be some dancing down on de beaches tonight. Go find some friends and have some fun.' Ricky thanked her and went out. The market traders were just finishing for the day and packing up their stalls. He went back to the beach where he'd been in the afternoon and sat on a bench. There was a stall selling drinks on the promenade and after a while he crossed to it to get a drink. The names were all written up on a board and were very exotic sounding. He didn't have a clue what any of them were, but there was a noisy group of Jamaicans gathered around the stall and they shouted at him to go for the coconut punch. It sounded good. The glass was filled with a clear liquid and topped off with sprigs of some green stuff, and slices of fruit. It tasted great, just like cool coconut milk. He took it back to the bench and sat down, watching a band setting up their instruments on the beach. They started to play lively dance music and pretty soon a crowd gathered . They shuffled around, dancing in the sand and joining in the songs. Ricky finished his drink and started clapping his hands in time to the music. He felt great. He was relaxed and happy. The world seemed to be a marvellous place, and even the British Consul wasn't such a bad stick after all. If he came along now, Ricky thought, I'd buy him a coconut drink. He went to the stall and bought another drink, dancing the few yards back to the bench. He sat down and giggled! A Jamaican youth of about eighteen sat down alongside him. 'Take it easy on that juice man,' he said. `What, this,' Ricky said, holding the glass up, 'It's coconut water.' The youth laughed. `Yeah, right.' he said, winking. `What's your, name, man.' `Ricky.' He belched. `I'm Winston. You on holiday, Ricky?' 'No, waiting for a ship to go home.' `Right. Hey, there's a dance in town tonight. You want to go?' 'Yeah, why not.' `O.K. Finish up your coconut water,' he said, grinning all over his face. Ricky emptied the glass. ` Wow, that was good,' he said, sucking the last few drops out. They walked back into the town, Winston chattering away for all he was worth. Ricky was happy to answer his questions about his home town and the lifestyle they had. Winston wanted to go to the U.K. one day and find work, as he thought it was the land of opportunity. Lots of his family had settled in London, working in the hospitals, and on public transport. The club that Winston took him to was in a side street and it was humming with life inside. A reggae band was playing and the dance floor crowded with couples swaying and shuffling around, holding each other tight. Ricky felt great. He started swaying to the music as he got in the mood. Winston shouted in his ear, `You want another coconut water ?' Ricky nodded and gave him the thumbs up. He loved coconut water. Winston gave him the glass of fruit cocktail and he took a long swig. It was hot in the small club, and the smoke was making his eyes water, but Ricky didn't care, he was enjoying himself. The atmosphere was fantastic, with everyone having a great time, laughing and joking with each other. One of Winston's friends came over and was introduced to Ricky as Earl. Earl was a big man of about twenty and he insisted they join him at his table. There were two Jamaican girls on the table, called Doris and Evie. Earl got a round of drinks in and Evie got Ricky up to dance. He tried to protest that he didn't know how to dance, but she got him up anyway, and showed him how to sway around the floor, holding her with both his arms around her waist. She was a tiny little girl, the top of her head just coming up to his shoulder, but she was a marvellous dancer. He felt a little dizzy after a while, but it passed, and he felt better. When they got back to the table, there was another coconut water waiting for him, and he thanked Earl and drank thirstily. Ricky sat down heavily ! His legs felt weak and the room was swaying a little. Winston looked at him, grinning all over his face. ` You alright, Rick?' He asked. Ricky's head lolled to one side. ` Yeah. Fine.' He hiccupped! Earl laughed. `Too much coconut water, man.' he said. Ricky tried to focus on his face and found that the image kept coming and going. He blinked and Earl's face was in focus again. Ricky laughed.`How did you do that,' he said to Earl, and they all roared with laughter. The music got faster and louder, as the band went into a fast jazz number. People were dancing furiously, jumping and gyrating, the men swinging the girls around with their skirts billowing out and their bare brown legs flashing. Ricky jumped up and grabbed Doris. ` Come on, Doris,' he yelled above the noise. ` Let's go.' He was caught up in the mad excitement of the moment and Doris went along with him to the great amusement of the others. Ricky whirled and danced around Doris, copying the dance he'd seen at the party in Port Arthur, all those weeks ago. She loved it. She was laughing and keeping up with his movements, clapping her hands and shouting, `Yeah, yeah. Go, go Ricky,' and swirling her skirt around with her hip movements. He felt marvellous. He'd come alive, and he danced like a madman, inspiration coming from he knew not where. All he knew was that it was so easy to dance free and uninhibited, and he made the most of it. People were stopping what they were doing to watch him, and laughing at his frantic movements. It was great fun, and when the music stopped, the dancers went back to their tables, sweating and panting for breath. Ricky collapsed into the chair, and drained his drink, as the others clapped him on the back and applauded his dancing. Winston put another drink down in front of him and he raised the glass and drained it in one. `My shout,' he said and tried to get to his feet, but his legs weren't working properly, and he sank back into the chair. `Sit down,' Earl shouted. ` Fred Astaire don't buy drinks !' And he went to the bar and came back with more coconut water. ‘Thanksh,' Ricky slurred. `Cheers,' Earl said, and they all raised their glasses and drank. `Ish good. Thish stuff.' Ricky said, holding the glass up. The others roared, finding Ricky's drunken state hilarious. He laughed along with them, not knowing what the joke was. The four Jamaicans got up to dance and Ricky watched them on the floor, having a good time. He was feeling dizzy again and the heat was making him feel sick. He tried to get up from the chair, but he staggered sideways and fell, knocking the drinks off the table which smashed to bits on the floor alongside him, drenching him in alcohol. The last thing he remembered before passing out, was that he had to get up again, but he couldn't. Copyright Deric Barry. 2005.