Craigville was a new and developing housing area. Many new home owners had bought land and built their homes. Some had already moved in. The houses were at different stages of construction, while many were yet to begin. There was no electricity, water or telephones available as yet.

Soon problems began to surface. Building materials were disappearing regularly. Someone was stealing from others to build his own. Whenever sand, bricks concrete blocks or steel were bought and stockpiled in preparation for the start of construction, a mystery unfolded. As soon as night set in the stocks would dwindle steadily. There seemed to be no answer to this.
Norman had bought his piece of land and started to develop it. When he bought his first load of sand, half of it was stolen. The same thing happened to his concrete blocks. The latter went bit by bit. Angry and frustrated, he vowed to do something about it. This resolve saw him visiting an Obeah Man.
After listening to Norman’s predicament, Papa Giddings recommended that a Spirit Guard be placed on Norman’s property. The client readily agreed. The price for the services was thirty thousand dollars. The next night they both visited the burial ground and a special ritual was performed. Next day an excited Norman headed for Craigville. Nobody was going to steal his material any longer. He smiled to himself in satisfaction.
Sean was a hustler/junkie. He stole and sold anything he could get his hands on. Aged thirty -five, he had been to jail several times for breaking and entering and larceny. If you wanted something in particular, all you had to do was ask Sean. Many of the new builders wanted cheap material and buying from Sean was much cheaper than any hardware store. His services were in constant demand. Sand, bricks, cement, fittings, nails and zinc sheets were procured and sold for a ‘small piece.’ He stole from stockpiles or stripped unattended new houses. Sean was making a good living in this trade. That is, until tragedy struck.
He got a large order for sand, bricks and cement. Sean immediately went to work. He had earlier noted a new stockpile of these materials. It was as if it had been placed there especially for him. That night the thief decided to start with a quake of bricks. Filling his container, he put it on his head and moved swiftly away. He was a strong man and accustomed to this type of work.
As he walked into the dark night, he heard voices nearby. Two people were chatting. He stopped in the shadows and waited for them to go by. Nothing happened. Puzzled, he continued on his way. Again the two voices started talking. He paused and looked carefully around him. There was no one there. He shrugged and started walking. Somehow, fetching these bricks was harder than he had anticipated. It just seemed to get heavier and heavier.
The voices were back but now they were laughing. What shocked him was that they seemed to be following and laughing at him. The more he walked the heavier his burden grew. Soon his neck and head were throbbing under the unusual stress. He decided to rest. Sean found to his horror that he could not put down the burdensome quake.
He started to tremble and sweat. Although he was a thief and an opportunist he knew a few things about spirits. Sean realised that he was in big trouble. If the bricks fell so would he. He racked his brains for a solution. Then it hit him. He would take the bricks back and hope for the best.
The return journey was like slow torture. At last he stumbled back to the stockpile. He dumped the bricks back where he had found it.
“Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!”
Sean spun quickly around. Two dark shadows were hovering near the sand.
CRACK! PLOW!
Bricks hit him from every conceivable angle. He stooped and protected his head and face.
“YO PLAYING YO HAND FAST!”
Sean admitted to himself that it was true. He also knew another part of his body that was even faster; his feet. With both of them pumping like pistons, he raced away from Craigville, away from construction and far away from stealing.

(BY NEIL PRIMUS)