THE entire village of White Sands was talking. Ramesh Hossein had been found murdered. Many people believed he had been killed by an angry villager, but nobody had been arrested.
You see, Ramesh was a thief; he stole anything he could lay his hands on. Sometimes he got away with it; sometimes he got a good trashing from the villagers. He had gone to jail a few times, and each time he returned to the community, it was business as usual.
Ramesh came from a good family. The Hosseins had tried to change his bad habits but failed. They tried counselling, therapy and licks. Nothing worked. They got so fed up with him, that, eventually, they put him out. Ramesh immediately moved into an abandoned building which just needed a strong gust of wind to send it crashing down around him. When it was windy, you could hear the cracking and moaning of the old boards as if they were begging to be set free from the agony of standing on shaky legs.
Ever since his death, villagers began to experience strange happenings. Old Mother Ifill lost her purse with all her pension money that she had just collected from the Post Office. She had just come home, put the purse on the table, and dashed into the toilet to make an urgent but necessary call of nature. When she emerged, the purse was gone. In its place were three Buck Beads. She froze in fear. This was the calling card of Ramesh. Every home or shop he broke into, he always left three Buck Beads. Ramesh’s spirit was still at work in the village.
Tony’s shop was burgled, and three beads left behind. Dianne’s Snackette was broken into; same thing happened. White Sands began to fear that Ramesh was angry about the way he died, and his restless spirit would haunt the villagers for a long, long time.
The Hosseins did a religious work for the soul of their son. They felt guilty about the way their relationship had disintegrated. After the ceremony, strange things continued to happen. At one point, it seemed as if the village was being held to ransom by Ramesh’s Buck Beads. Every time they appeared, people were terrified.
One night, tipsy Harry-the-village-drunk was staggering home late as usual. He was so drunk that he had no thought of spirit or jumbie. Well, as he turned the corner near to his home, something small hit him in the face. The small objects fell onto the road with a clatter. Harry leaned over to see what had assaulted him, and immediately got stone-cold sober. Scattered on the ground around him were half-a-dozen Buck Beads.
With a scream that would make Percy Sledge envious, Harry took off like a jet plane. He disregarded the bridge across the trench in front of his home. That was too far away. The now sober Harry took a radical shortcut: Over water. Some villagers who witnessed this feat swore that the man walked (I mean ran) on water. He got to his gate in record time, and as dry as the Sahara Desert in the midday sun.
As he climbed over the fence, he heard a soft giggle. This gave him more purpose, and he got inside in a flash. Harry started to drink at home only. No more Buck Beads.
Nosey Molly had an even more epic encounter. She heard that Daphne and Stella, her archrivals, were having a big cuss-out. This she could not miss! She had to get all their files! She dressed, and took her purse along too. On the way back from the big ‘buse-out’, she would buy some groceries.
It was indeed a big battle of words. Molly walked to within good hearing distance of the quarrel. Voices were raised like boom-boxes, and expletives went off like a Fourth of July celebration. She stopped in the darkness under a tree on the road and drank in the sweet, spicy vibes.
Suddenly, little pellets began to hit her, one by one. She spun around, but saw no-one. Pellet after pellet hit her, and, eventually, she became worried and stepped out into the light. She looked down, and her eyes bulged in horror. Buck Beads! Buck Beads!
Molly let out a screech that would frighten any jumbie. With eyes wide, mouth open to swallow any unsuspecting night flyer that had the ill luck to fly too close, and hair flying crazily in the wind, Molly jumped as high as her chubby body would let her, and took off down the road, screaming at the top of her very adequate lungs. She left in her wake her purse, belt and shoes.
That night, Molly broke a personal best-record. She actually ran more than three steps. Molly ran clear down to the back of the village, forgetting her house as she flashed by, all the time screaming ‘bloody murder’, and waking the entire village. That cured her gossiping for a while. But now, with the arrival of advanced technology, Molly has gone hi-tech: Face Book, Twitter, Yahoo and others are now her mode of distribution.
A village meeting was called. Discussions centered upon the strange incidents carried out by Ramesh’s ghost. Some people suggested burning the abandoned building so that the spirit would have no place to dwell. The owner, Mr. Parris, said he would welcome the idea, once the villagers would replace it with a new one. That ended talks of destroying it.
Others felt that an exorcism was needed. The Christians called for a special service to drive out the evil spirit. The Hindus and Muslims felt that spiritual intervention was necessary. Eventually, it was agreed that all three would hold their ceremonies on the same day, starting at the same time.
The next Sunday, all three religious functions were held. There was full attendance, because everyone wanted to be rid of the pesky ghost. When the ceremonies were completed and the faithful returned home, they found that some of their houses had been broken into. There was plenty of Buck Beads to go around. That day, White Sands was a very angry community.
Mrs. Kaladeen worked as a washer woman. She washed for many of the villagers. At 4am, she was up and working. By 9am, the washing was done. She then began cooking for her husband and two children. That day, she prepared roti and curry. After she had finished, she went into the living room and began ironing and pressing clothes she had washed the day before. When this was done, she took a mid-morning nap.
“Mummy! Mummy!”
Mrs. Kaladeen jumped from a deep sleep. Her eight-year-old daughter was pointing to the kitchen, with tears in her eyes. Mrs Kaladeen ran into the kitchen to see what was wrong. There, she got an unpleasant shock. All the food was gone, except one roti! The surviving Roti lay in the middle of the table. In the middle of the roti were three Buck Beads. She trembled, and clutched her crying daughter to her chest.
“Damn you, Ramesh!”
Radica had been seeing Ramesh for more than a year before she gave him the boot. She, too, had tried to get him to change. It did not work. He was happy to sleep with her, but refused to change his ways. Eventually, she dumped him. She was now going out with Kurt, a friend of Ramesh’s.
A week ago, Kurt had bought her a beautiful golden necklace. She loved it, and wore it all the time. She only took it off when she was having a shower. Radica was taking a prolonged shower. After work at the ‘Fisheries’, she was eager to wash the stench of fish off her. After the shower, she went into the bedroom and dried her skin and hair. This done, she reached for her precious necklace and sprang back as if she had been bitten by a labaria. The chain was gone! In its place were three Buck Beads. She began to cry. Ramesh was still making her life miserable.
Old man Sutton did not believe in ghosts. He was not afraid of Ramesh, and had been among those who had given him a good hiding. As a matter of fact, he had beaten him to death, because Ramesh had stolen his hidden jewellery stash. He had tracked him down, confronted him, and killed him after getting back his property. He was convinced that something odd was taking place, and sure that it had nothing to do with Ramesh. He sent for his son, who was a soldier.
When his son, Roy, arrived, he told him all that had taken place. The young man listened intently. He was a Military Intelligence officer, and used to hearing strange stories from errant soldiers. Each time his investigation led to a simple solution. Very often, the soldier had made up the story to hide his own error or wrongdoing. Roy decided to conduct an investigation.
He interviewed every person who had had a strange encounter. They all retold their stories, and answered all his questions. When this was completed, he sat and analyzed all the information. Money, jewellery and other valuables were stolen. Classic burglary. Food was stolen. Now, that was strange! No one had ever seen the ghost. Even stranger! How did they know it was Ramesh’s ghost? This was very odd! One thing stuck in his mind: Old Mother Ifill had told him that she found footprints in the house after her purse was stolen. This was even more interesting!
Roy walked through White Sands, checking out all the buildings. Somewhere in this village, there was a clever thief, ghost or man. He would find out which.
His survey revealed that the only likely place for any such person to use as a base was the old abandoned building. He decided to stake it out.
Two evenings later, he was rewarded with noise and movement in the old building. He crept stealthily forward. The voices were coming from a room on the ground floor. It was the only one with four walls still standing, and a working door.
He slipped silently into the house and drifted noiselessly towards the room. There was light in the room; and several persons, too.
“Okay. Tonight we going for Coleen’s shop.”
“You and Ralph will hit Salim’s Grocery.”
Roy peeked cautiously around the edge of the door, and nearly died of shock. There, standing in the middle of the room, were four teenage boys. What was even more shocking was that one of them was handing out Buck Beads.
As they collected their share of beads, they were laughing in a knowing way. Their plan was an excellent one: Feed off the fears of the villagers. Nobody in their right mind would ever suspect four teenage boys, aged 13 to 15.
Roy stood outside the room, gathering his thoughts. He was angry at the lads, but more angry at the villagers for not realising they were all being duped. Tonight, it would all come to a climax.
Roy silently took off the heavy army belt he wore, and stepped into the room, closing and locking the door behind him. Four shocked faces stared at him as if they had just seen a ghost. He let the belt hang loose, and advanced on the ghostly thieves. Tonight they would wish they were home sleeping.
Wax!
Ply!
Pow!
“Ah! Ow!”
“Ouch!”
Jumbie lash was passing.