The rage of the ‘Baccoo’

By Abdool Aziz
IT WAS June 5, 1956. I came in from school for lunch. Just as I sat down to eat, a missile landed on the old zinc roof. Lots of dust fell onto my plate. I thought it was a baby coconut falling from the overhanging palm tree. I rushed outside to investigate. I saw no one, but still I heard the sound again. This was no baby coconut. Someone was pelting. There was no one in sight, but the pelting continued. With anger and frustration, I left for school.

On my return, my sister–in–law showed me the metal dust that fell every time a missile struck while I was away. I climbed up to the roof. The missiles were solid stone. These granites were not found in our area. No construction was in progress. The road was made of red mud.

My father was taught to deal with ‘Baccoo’ spirits. It is said that these spirits constantly pelt your house if angered. I questioned my dad on the concept but he shrugged it off. We called the police. A day and night surveillance was launched – no success. One security officer sat in the coconut tree benefitting from a panoramic view of the surrounding but there was no sighting of the perpetrator. One night, a rock got him on his forehead.

He hustled down and abandoned his job. All were scared. We had to evacuate the premises. It was big news: ‘Disgruntled Baccoo pelting Master’s house’. Many gathered to hear the stones hammering the house day and night. We begged our father to appease the devils. He said it was not his Baccoos. The police pulled away. The estate security deserted us and we were at the mercy of the unknown. We hired a few scouts. No one saw anyone pelt, the unseen spirit was the culprit.

We went down hard on our dad. We threatened to leave if he didn’t control these evil monsters. My sister–in-law decide to return to her native Pomeroon. Then it stopped suddenly. I went up the roof again and gathered a basket full of stones. I showed it to my dad. He smiled and walked away I shouted “Your dirty devils did this!”

One day I was cleaning out my sister garage. I came upon a bucket filled with stones. They looked similar from the one taken from the zinc top. My mind went into overdrive. Was my sister, the culprit? But how? She was short, quiet and fragile. Perhaps it was one her sons or husband. I confronted her. At first, it was total denial. I pressed on and the truth emerged. She was the ‘human’ baccoo. She told me she was jealous of my sister–in–law, that she suspected an affair between her and her husband.

Those bricks were meant to agonise her and send her back to her parents. Well, it did accomplish its goal. Now I was puzzled, how she did it from such a distance and so accurate and invisible? She demonstrated how she threw the rocks and hid behind the outhouse. No one could see her. A diminutive, slender lady accomplishing such a dastardly feat. I guess when Satan is in you, you achieve the impossible. Jealousy is a formidable force, and it was an unfounded rage.

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