THE village of Bounty lay along the sea coast. It was a fishing village and most of its inhabitants depended on the sea for their daily bread. Most of the men were either fishermen or boat captains. Many of the women sold fish in the small marketplace. A few were expert weavers of the seine nets used to catch fish.
With a population of just over 75, Bounty was tiny compared to the adjoining villages which were agriculture settlements. Trade between them was an important factor in their continued existence.

As in every village, there were a few odd characters. Austin was the village drunk. It didn’t matter what time of day you ran into him, you could be sure of one thing, he would have quite a few drinks under his belt.
Then there was Balram the bellow. He was loud and often hilarious. He knew and understood only one tone: very, very loud. The truth was that he was half deaf and just didn’t hear how loud he sounded.

Then there was Sybil the local gossip. If she stopped to chat with you, watch out, by the next day some ugly rumour would be circulating about you.
Last but not least was Mr. Stephenson. He was 70 years old, bald and had no natural teeth. He had dentures which he only wore for special occasions. At all other times, he could be seen smiling with a mouth that looked like that of a Yuman Snub Nose Monkey.
Old Stephenson had gained notoriety because of a confrontation with his neighbour Mr. Kallicharan. They both quarrelled over the ownership of a duck. Both advanced towards each other ready to do battle. At ages 70 and 75, the fight was brief. Halfway through the scuffle, Kallicharran bit Stephenson
“Aaaaahh!:

It was not a serious bite because ol’ Kallicharran had most of his teeth missing except two way down to the back of his mouth. In agony, Stephenson shouted to his wife.
“Beryl! Beryl! Run quick and bring me teeth. Kallicharran just bite me an a wan fo bite he back.”
The neighbours parted the warring, exhausted parties before any lethal damage could be done.
After that incident, the two old guys resumed their strong friendship. This was sealed over plates of duck curry. Yes, you guessed it: That same pesky duck.
They were both fishermen and often pooled their resources to make a catch. Fish was scarce and the catches got smaller and smaller.

One day the two decided to join forces and go fishing. After an entire two days at sea, they returned to shore with only three fishes. Two small ones and one big one. They were very disappointed and exhausted. It was late at night when they made their way home
They were both tired and their old bones ached. They sat in the bushes on the side of the road and rested. Both were well within the shadow of a large tree.
Along this dark stretch of road came three brothers. They were very wayward and were often guilty of cruel pranks and mischievous acts. Their father was unknown, their mother had died and they were left with their grandmother who was too old to control them. They had now become delinquent.

There was Victor the fifteen-year-old and Ron and Nicholas the 10-year-old twin.
They could be heard from a distance shouting and cursing. All three were sharing a cigarette. This noisy bunch stopped to smoke. They were accustomed to prowling at night. Very often they had helped themselves to anything left lying around carelessly. Just then the two old fellows decided to discuss the sharing of their small catch.

“We got three a dem, not too bad.”
The trio froze.
“Well we gon tek one each a de smallies.”
“Ok.”
The twins were quaking in their boots.
“We go gat fo split de big one in half!”
It was Victor’s turn to break out in cold sweat.
“De big one gon taste better dan de rest.”
“All does taste same way.”
The three small figures clung to each other looking wildly around. They expected some kind of demon or jumbie to exit the bushes and gobble them up.
“All right partner. You tek de head. We gon bus he down and tek out de guts before we divide he in two.”
The three are too petrified to run. Knees were knocking and tears flowing.
“Wat about de small ones? We gon save dem fo later. We can’t get too greedy.”
“Leh we start now.”
“Na! Later. We got plenty time!”
That’s what they thought. Three terror- filled pairs of eyes totally disagreed with them.
With howls and shrieks, three speedy travellers took off. They made good use of the next 15 minutes and got home earlier than usual leaving two bewildered senior citizens gawking at each other in fright.
Crying, shouting and praying, they ran like the wind and reached home safely much to the surprise of their grandma.
At dinner, that night granny placed a large dish on the table. Guess what it contained?
Three fish.
One big and two smaller ones.
The boys immediately lost their appetite; they just could not remove a bizarre picture from their mind, ‘Three For Dinner.’
They fled to the safety of their rooms leaving granny mighty puzzled.