SOME years ago, over the Christmas holidays, a friend and I visited our tailor to get ready for the Boxing Night party. Our tailor was our regular tailor; we called him that, and he was honest enough to tell us that he was packed for overseas, so we were ready. We saw a small crowd at his place. Some were guys we knew; others looked like relatives. As we approached, I saw some females who looked even more like relatives. A bigger guy that we knew blocked us as we edged up the step, so we queried, “Wha going on, boss?” The big brother looked at us. “Deh got a problem, but hang around, yuh gon get yuh stuff. Ah know the two of yo.” “Wait! Deh break de man place? A mean, everybody know that he was flying out over the holidays.” The old boxer said, “But something else happen, youth man.” “He brother kill he self?” We both were shocked.

We had no answer. “Wha?! Fuh wuh?” “We ent know. Somebody feel that he expected to fly out too.” “I can’t believe it, but they was joking up to two, three days ago.” “Things happen, youth man, all the time. Don’t fret. Just now, when the Babylon come, yoh gon get yuh threads. Don’t freak out, just chill.” “Suh he brother deh?” “Yeah, deh carry he to the hospital.” “Fuh wha?” “Just fuh run some checks. He try fuh tek he self out now he brother gone foreign. Leh we stay pon the bright side and wish de pray.” “Fuh real.” We shook our heads and, after a long time, prayed for real… “Ah know alyuh and the tailor man does keep tight records. Leh we just pray inside and always inform yuh people whey we going when yuh left the house. Learn from how we’re feeling now?”