Jamaicarunnings Serial- "the Girl from the Lane"

The Girl from the Lane- 13th Installment

The shooting incident in the downtown area had been presented in the media as another politically motivated killing. The reports spoke of reprisals as the youth who had perished at the hands of the gunmen was an area leader from one of the warring communities. There was no mention of anyone escaping the attack. Needless to say, Tony was grappling with thoughts of abandoning his Post Office job as the potential for reprisal for him was significant. However, there would be consequences. After all he had a family to take care of and work was hard to come by in this pre- election period.
Maybe the attack was random. Two young men in the middle of warring factions in downtown Kingston at night were easy pickings for robbers, especially robbers with guns. And speaking of guns… , in the underworld, guns are a precious commodity. Invariably, these weapons formed part of a stash by respective communities, to protect themselves from marauding gunmen from other communities. It was no secret either, that a substantial amount of these weapons featured in robberies with deadly consequences for the victims.
Tony had fought within himself to remain in possession of the 9 millimeter pistol that Errol had handed to him for viewing before he had fallen victim to the gunmen that fateful night.
As the week ran off, thoughts of the attack receded and Tony gingerly made his way back to work. He figured that since the police hardly afforded ordinary citizens any protection, that he would keep the firearm for the protection of his family and himself. He was sure of one other thing… Sheila could never know that he was in possession of such an item.

The three men had been hanging around the precincts of the post office all that afternoon. They had been loitering in the area just outside the Sorting Office when the Royal Mail Van pulled up with its load of letters collected from the out of town mailing centres.
Mr. Johnson indicated to one of the workers to take one of the four wheeled trolleys and clear the bags from the van. Dutifully, the worker wheeled the trolley down the small ramp towards the back of the vehicle. As he slung the first three bags from the back of the van, he observed two men pushing past the guard and onto the sorting floor. One of them raised something from under his shirt and a loud explosion followed. The wooden sorting receptacle shuddered from end to end. Two of its cubbyholes shattered sending the stuffed envelopes flying. Post office workers scattered, some slithering on the floor on hands and knees to get away.
Tony had not recognized the man who was working the table next to him. “Maybe he was new, perhaps a replacement for Errol” He had thought.
The man had a B.O.A.C bag that was never far from his reach. As the gunshot registered, the man deliberately fell backwards from the stool, grabbing the bag with him. The gunman raised the shotgun to re-load its barrel. Tony had rolled under the table. He noticed the man pulling the 9mm pistol from the bag and in the same motion, pointing and squeezing the trigger. The explosion was less sharp and the gunman’s head seemed to explode as he fell onto a bundle of letters. His accomplice had only been a few paces behind him, his right hand under his shirt.
“Rass Clawt,” he shouted, “The damn boy have a gun….” And his jaw disappeared with the explosion as the next shot from the man tore into his face.


There were two or three more explosions from outside the building as Tony sprinted away from the scene. The City Centre police was less than a quarter of a block from the
Sorting Office and the police had obviously engaged the other man on the outside. Tony did not care to find out.

Sheila had sat up all night in expectation of her man’s arrival from work. At first she figured he might have stopped to play dominoes somewhere. Her anxiety grew as the hours slipped by. Despite their occasional differences, he had never slept out of the house. Always, he would come home. She thought about how she had refused his advances a couple of nights before and if this was his way of getting back at her. She had been insistent on condom use as the birth control pills had been causing her to gain weight. Tony was livid, and had stayed out of their bedroom that night and the next two nights. Now tonight he had not come home.
“Maybe I should find another type of contraceptive,” she had thought. “Tonight, I will allow him to go bareback as my cycle is safe right now”
Her neck was stiff from the discomfort of sleeping in the couch. The television was off and she figured that Tony had come in and turned off the set without bothering to wake her. She got up and checked their bedroom, then the children’s. Tony had not come home.

“The word on the streets is that Errol had borrowed the gun to’ mash a work’ and had failed to return it. Guns are not easy to come by you know, and for an ‘area leader’ to lose a gun, it is sending a negative message in the community. Errol was killed to assert the area leader’s authority. They must know that you have this gun Tony. That is why they came to the Post Office.” Big George reasoned. He was the “Top Man” in Jones Town and knew the runnings. Tony had known him from school days and had headed to him after escaping the shooting incident at the post office.
“I can tell you one thing Tony boy,’ George continued, “life won’t be the same for you right now. I suggest that you cool out with us for a while until this situation calms down. It does not help that they lost three more guns in the incident today.”