JOE ‘n DE SPECULATOR
Purpose: Coming of age in the face of tragedy
It was a normal morning in the village with calm winds and a blue sky providing a beautiful backdrop for the view across the lush green landscape towards Chalky Mount and St. Andrews. In the distant view was a small opening between the hills where you could see the gentle rolling waves falling against the coral sand in St. Andrew.
Village children, mostly boys between the ages of 11 and 18, played a mixture of games in the street with improvised sports equipment. Some of the boys were playing road tennis, a game that is a cross between lawn tennis and ping-pong. The boys would cut a large piece of chalk from the hill near Todd’s Corner and draw a court on the street a bit larger than a ping-pong court. Using rackets made from a piece of wood about eight inches in diameter and a standard tennis ball, they played games with scoring up to 21, like ping-pong. Another group of boys played cricket in the street using an old Coca-Cola box for the stumps and bats made from the ribs of a coconut limb or piece of wood. But with all the fun and laughter, this would be no ordinary day.
While the boys were having fun and being competitive, a familiar sound and smell disturbed the morning air, announcing exactly what and who was coming. It was Crumpsa! Children shouted warnings to each other and, quickly, the children cleared the street for fear they would get run over. Everyone in the village had a nickname and it was usually tied to something unique about that person. Crumpsa gained his name because he would grind his teeth very loudly and constantly. He was a fierce looking man of stout build, mean-faced, and dirty-looking most of the time. He also smelled like animals because he was a speculator. As a speculator, he bought malnourished animals, paid a small amount for the animals and then sold them to other folk for a profit. His 1948 Chevrolet Fleetmaster had no backseats so he could transport the animals and the inside of the car was filthy, smelling of animal waste. Crumpsa also smelled like the animals, so the children avoided him and he carried a long butcher knife for protection. He was known to have used it on occasion, so the children were afraid of him.
Crumpsa was getting old so he needed help with the speculator work and hired Joe to drive for him. Joe was a quiet, peaceful man, but he also suffered from some mental health problems. The kids teased him occasionally because he was different, but he never retaliated. Joe was the only one in the village that would even dare drive for Crumpsa. On this particular morning, when the Fleetmaster returned, Crumpsa was driving and Joe was out of sight. He was lying in the back of the car where the animals normally were. Crumpsa opened the door, pulled Joe from the car and laid him down in front of him and then Crumpsa started to leave.
One of the children saw Joe was injured and asked Crumpsa, “hey, wha’ you do to he?”
“Mine ya business and get away from me before I stick ya,” Crumpsa growled through his grinding teeth, and looked menacing holding his knife.
Soon the other children heard the commotion and came over to investigate. Joe was moaning, his eyes glassy. He could not walk and his ankles were swollen. Several of the boys carried Joe to his house while others tried to detain Crumpsa. But Crumpsa started the car and tried to run over the children standing in front of the car, but they weren’t having it!
Suddenly, one of the boys shouted, “come le’ we get he!” and several boys went to the back of the car and lifted the back wheels off the ground. Others gathered some large rocks and pieces of concrete blocks, and propped the car so it could not move. Crumpsa exited the car with his knife and chased the kids, but the car was already on blocks and he could not go anywhere. They kept him occupied while waiting for the police to arrive.
Once the commotion was over, some of the children went in to attend to Joe. He looked scared, his eyes were distant, and he was moaning in terrible pain. We learned that Crumpsa had beaten him days before, had broken both his ankles and left him to die. For some reason, Crumpsa had gone back to get Joe and bring him back to the village that day. Taking turns, we cared for Joe every day for three days but, despite our efforts, he died. I am sorry, Joe.
We learned that day to be more compassionate towards others who needed care, especially the mentally ill. But we also discovered the meaning of courage when we, as children, took on a brute and helped bring him to justice.
Bajan Hotsauce story : Written by – Stan, edited by Jeanne