LATRINE CONCERTO

 LATRINE CONCERTO IN  CREOLE MINOR

Leslie was one of my best friends in Primary school. He was big for his age. Strong, with sinewy muscles,  he was a formidable fighting machine. Macho, but yet likable, always with a smirk on his face. I stayed close to him because he always defended me whenever I was threatened, or, bullied by other school mates. 

Besides being the fastest 100 yard sprinter in those days, he was passionate about a game of bumpa ball. Passionate enough to always want to stay at the batting crease, even when he was out. He would shout at the bowler, in a harsh, bellowing voice, softened by the musical tone of creole english, which rushed to our ears.

"Meh nah bin ready!"

Even though we were good buddies, he had punched me a few times on my shoulders, in friendly rebuke,when I refused to bowl, knowing that he was out.

One Sunday, when he visited his uncle who was my next door neighbor, he called out to me to play bumpa ball in his uncle's yard, who was not home at the time.

"Meh guh bat, yuh bowl," he said, laying down the rules of the game.

I wanted to refuse but was too afraid to do so. I bowled until I was tired. In a moment when he had turned to pick up the ball that struck the wickets, I made a daring escape to the safety of my home. In frustration, he started to throw the ball in the air, hitting it as hard as possible. He did this several times, hitting the ball against the concrete wall of his uncle's house, shouting in my direction, with his creole melody..

"Meh guh ketch yuh ah school."

Shortly after, I heard him, calling out to my father who was working in our backyard kitchen garden.

"Nayba, len meh yuh shovel nah.Meh wan do sometin."

Leslie hastily took the shovel and disappeared amongst the black sage bushes in his uncle's backyard. 

Moments later I heard him again.

"Nayba...nayba...naayyybbbaaa, help meh please!"

There was a deep, baritone ring to the voice, full of resounding bass and reverberation.

We scurried over to the yard but we couldn't find him.

My father asked.

"Ah weh yuh deh, Leslie?

The voice came again. 

"In de latrine, nayba."

"Wha happin. Yuh kyant open de door?"

"De door open nayba, but meh deh in de latrine pit!"

My father rushed into the latrine and peeped into the pit. 

"Oh lawd, Leslie, yuh cover in doodie. Ah how yuh fall in?"

"Meh bin try fuh tek out meh bumpa ball wid de shovel but de shovel loose out from de handle and fall in. Wen meh try fuh tek out de shovel, me fall in. Nayba meh han dem too slippery with doodie. Meh kyant get ah grip to pull meself  out! 

In his desperate struggle to get out he became plastered all over with crap!

My father ripped out some boards from the side of the latrine pit and pulled him out with a long pole, with a wad of cloth attached to the end, which he held on to.

Leslie sprinted to the nearby canal, with a bar of soap, and washed himself for a long time. 

Before he jumped into the canal, I shouted towards him.

"If yuh beat meh ah school, I will tell yuh friends dem how yuh eat doodie!"