Duppy Business

“The dinner ready!”

The sound of my mummy’s voice was like a bolt of lightning breaking up the darkness that had started to form. None of us had even noticed because we were too busy building and cooking in our lean to zinc house. It was a typical Jamaican summer evening for us. All of the kids, Kirk and Greg (my brothers), Charlene and Trecia (my cousins) and me, were outside playing in the yard. We always played until we were called in for dinner.

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Hearing my mother call, for the second time, made everyone sprint to the house. Nobody never waan (want to) get a beating. Everyone ran to the house, except me. I was notorious for taking off my yard slippers while playing and then not being able to find them. Tonight was no different. Actually, it was worse because I was having more trouble than normal finding my slippers in the darkness that had suddenly descended. I felt myself starting to panic because it was now pitch black and I didn’t like being alone in the dark. By the time I found them and put them on, everybody else had made it inside. I ran as quickly as I could toward the house.