All I want for Christmas is a CG motor bike
He sat on the ground in the darkness, knees drawn up and hugged by long, muscular arms. It was a position of choice; one that he could hold for hours without moving. He was enjoying the gloom; the pitch black nothingness of which people seemed so afraid.If only they knew what comfort one could derive from embracing the black void, he mused. If only they knew how all the senses became so attuned and acute in an undisturbed, friendly atmosphere.
As if on cue he closed his eyes, willing himself to concentrate on every sound: his own breathing; the noises of the city; the ambient sounds of the night. English was his best subject and even though school was a thing of the past he remembered his teacher asking him to read a passage that had a particular poignant sentence: The night is dark, though the stars shine. So succinct, he reflected.
At first, darkness seemed to be claustrophobic and compressing but as he became habituated to the solitude, more and more he sought its influence. And, strangely enough, the acceptance had its benefits and advantages.
He looked around. Having developed remarkable night vision from constantly living in a house without electricity, he could see every object clearly outlined in the spacious oval room and even beyond in the corridors that snaked into the rear.
A key turned in the lock. Another one. And then a third.
The adrenaline immediately began to pump in Stevie’s veins. Gone was the dreamy casualness as he crouched in the shadow of the double-paneled blinds.
The 19-year-old was transformed. That special visceral thrill was back. And not even those who thought they knew him well would guess that their genteel school mate had a multiple persona -college valedictorian; teacher; soldier; and now…specialist thief on the way to becoming a permanent member of the ravishing CG motor cycle gang.
A shadow morphed into the amiable gold miner his workers addressed as “Boss Man.”
Gavin flicked on the light switch and greeted the clearly startled man with: “I was in the bank this morning when you withdrew a lot of money. I trailed you back here. Give me your gun and the money.”
The miner stammered: “I paid out all the money.”
Gavin walked over to the man. Without an utterance he put his gun to the man’s head and pulled the trigger.
There was no immediate recoil.
Just one sound…click.
“You like Russian roulette?”
Tremors of fear rippled back and forth throughout the businessman’s body like wavelets repeatedly rebuffed by a levee. He glanced at the young man who held the key to life or death and saw no expression in his fathomless eyes.
“Don’t shoot me man. Here is the gun… and the money is in the safe.”
Indeed the money was there and in the same backpack that was stuffed while in the bank.
The teenager nonchalantly took the bag and the holstered gun and said casually: “Forget you ever saw me. Tell the police I had on a mask. And always remember you have a family that you love. We had you under surveillance for a while.”
Gavin walked to a nearby lamp post and removed a battered-looking CG look-alike. Cool, calm and collected, he revved the throttle once then cruised down Vlissengen Road towards his gang’s headquarters. The celebrations would go on into the night and morning and by the end of the day he would no longer have to sing his woeful ditty – “All I want for Christmas is a CG 125 motor bike” or the less plaintive one – “I would do anything for a CG motor bike.” He would now have his own and he would have graduated to the highest level of the gang’s totem pole.
The Honda CG 125 is a commuter motor cycle that was made by Honda of Japan. It was in production from 1976 to 2008. Then it eventually moved to Brazil and Turkey. It’s the bike of choice for the young thieves in Guyana. A veritable scourge it is and one that the local police must work overtime to quickly eviscerate.
There is nothing more heart-rending than having your savings snatched from you and having to look on helplessly as brazen, unconscionable bandits dodge and slice their way to their horizons with audacious dexterity.
The CG125 was developed from the CB125 for Third World markets. Due to the design success, several direct copies of the CG125 have sprung up (mostly from Chinese and Korean manufacturers).
Christmas is a dry run for May 2016. The police must adopt their own “War of the Flea” tactics to dismantle this ubiquitous threat. Robert Taber’s timeless analysis would tell you to keep hitting the enemy here, there and everywhere to disturb their modus operandi. Today’s CG bandits are yesterday’s trunkers. They are getting bolder and bolder. Law enforcement must now be more proactive; not just reactive.