Smitty was an older gentleman. Weathered and still in great shape. He was a tiler and the tiling business though good to him was starting to wear him down a bit. But he never turned down a challenging tiling job. Smitty was well known for his meticulous work and honesty. His reputation preceded him and he doesn’t remember having to solicit work. All his work came from referrals and it was plentiful.
Smitty worked on many houses across Barbados and on many construction sites. Often, when Smitty had time, he sat around the village and shared some of the more amusing encounters he had either with owners or the other workmen. It was quite awhile since Smitty shared a story, so the young boys were troubling him for a story. Smitty finally relented and decided to share one of his funny stories.
“Awright then, wunna win,” Smitty started. “Now dis story is bout somebody wunna know gud.” Smitty continued. “I en calling he name, but as soon as I tell wunna de story, wunna gine know jes who I does be talking bout.”
Smitty settled in to tell the story, in the meantime, he asked Mrs. Branch to mek up some sardines and salt bread for the boys. Usually, when Smitty entertained the boys, he also fed them. “Mrs. Branch,” he said, “mek sure ya put some mauby fuh de boys too.”
“Awright Smitty, it soon come now,” Mrs. Branch replied.
“Well, we wuz working at dis rich man house and we had nuff nuff work,” Smitty started. “Now I does work by me self. But we wuz at de job fuh four straight days when de plummer run into trouble. I dohn get into dem kinds a problem,” Smitty said with pride, as he continued the story. “Well, de plummer come to me an ask effin I cud help he. I say to he, en who gine do me wuk?”
“Den de plummer ask me, effin I know anybody dat cud help he.” I said, “man yeah, I can get me boy tomorrow to come en help.” So I went down by me boy after getting done fuh de day and told me boy, “man I got some wuk fuh ya tomorrow. Meet me at Todd’s Corner at 8:30 am sharp.” Smitty said, he boy was delighted to get some work and promised he would show up.
Smitty continued telling the story as the boys’ interest grew. But they just wanted Smitty to skip to the end so they could find out who he boy was. Plus de food was calling dem names.
“Now, I pick up my boy at Todd’s Corner right on time jus as we talk bout it,” Smitty said. “We drove together to the site. But I knew my boy had a reputation.” Smitty looked at the boys and pointed his finger, “boys, looka! He had dem sticky fingers. So when we was going down de road to de rich man house, I tell my boy, “now look, you know you got sticky fingers. I bringing you fuh a little wuk. Don’t mek me face shame,” Smitty counseled he boy.
“Man no, no Smitty, I does respect you,” my boy said to me. So I tell he, “I gine trust you, but dese is some very important people and ya got to watch ya self.” My boy try to convince me he en gine do nuttin foolish and I wanted to believe he. Well, we got to the site and I introduce my boy to de plummer. The plummer was glad fuh whateva help he cud get, cause he was so far behind.” Smitty stopped telling the story briefly and he had this far away look in he eyes.
The boys quickly got his attention, “Smitty, Smitty!” They asked, “wuh happen next?”
Smitty continued the story. “It was a awful day,” he said. “It rain an rain, an rain and de work got hold up even further. My boy says he has to go use the bathroom. I was nervus. I didn’t want my boy nowhere near dese people house wid out somebody watching he. So I give in and leh he use de people bathroom.” Smitty sighed. Then he continued, “as soon as he come out, I ask my boy, effin he did touch anyting. “No, no Mr. Smitty, “I wunt do dat especially after de talk we had.” “Ok,”I says, “but leh me tell ya, if I fine one ting missing ya gine catch fire in ya tail, I tell he.”
As the weekend dragged on, Smitty boy was parading around the village smelling like a proud fowl cock wid some new cologne. No body in de village had ever smell anything so rich. Smitty said, “I smell dis rich smelling cologne on my boy, but I didn’t want to accuse my boy of nuttin. I figure one he family back in the States must be sen he a barrel.”
The boys immediately figured out who Smitty was talking bout. The boys simultaneously shouted, “it was Hansolight, it was Hansolight, wuznt it Smitty?”
Smitty paused again in the middle of the story. He was feeling shame, cause he was feeling dat Hansolight let he down, but he didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Smitty continued with the story as the boys eyes lit up with excitement. They wanted to find out how the story ended.
Well, Smitty said, “I picked up my boy at Todd’s Corner Monday morning at 8:30 am sharp, jus like we talked about on Friday. As soon as my boy get in de car, I cud smell dis strong cologne all over he clothes,” Smitty shared with disappointment in his voice. “But I had to go back to finish me tiles, so here I come, up to dese rich people house. As soon as we pull up, the owner called my boy into the house, said he had something he wanted to discuss wid him. The house owner took my boy into de house, straight to the medicine cabinet, open de door, and there it was. “ Smitty said.
“What! What!,” the boys asked with impatience. “Wha happen next?” they asked.
Smitty got a little smile on he face as he went on with the story. “Well, the owner went to get some of he cologne fuh church on Sundy, jest to find de box neatly on de shelf, but de whole bottle of cologne gone. The owner asked my boy, ‘now tell me, did you take my cologne?’ ‘No suh, not me,’ my boy asnser the owner. De owner got real mad,” Smitty said, “and he started to tell my boy off.”
“You must be tink I foolish!” We cud hear the owner yelling. “Dis is a real expensive cologne and you en even got de gud sense not to come up in my premises smelling fresh of muh cologne.” My boy started to shake at he knees. Next ting we hear is “wax! Wax!,”
“Murdah, murdah, he trying to kill muh!” All we cud see when my boy come out de house was de pee running down he leg and he two huff pelting like a scared racehorse at de Garrison.
The owner followed my boy out de house carrying a bull pistle in he hand. The owner turned to us and tell we dohn evah bring dat stealing raggamuffin back heh again. By dis part of de story, all de boys was rolling on de grung in uncontrollable laughter. Smitty finished the story by telling de boys, “wunna always got to be honest, dohn steal, en dohn mek wunna parents shame. Now leh we eat and pass de hotsauce.”
Author: Stan Brooks, PhD