Seems like I always get in some kind of confrontation with people in uniform. On the island during the revolution, sometimes at night all the electric on the island went off. Some say it was because of the inadequate power station. Others say it was because the army wanted to practice for an invasion. Well one night I was visiting the small city and was walking back to my village when suddenly the street plunged into darkness. It was pitch black except for the millions of stars. I got to a place called The Round About in a place called Tanteen, Luckily I was used to walking there so I was not having trouble maneuvering my way around The Round About. Then, in the dark I heard footsteps running towards me. I stopped to look around and felt something hard hit me in the back. I fell forward, landing in one of the flower beds in The Round About. My heart was beating so hard I bet it moved the mud I was laying on.
“What you doing out here?” a female voice said.
“I walking home. What the hell you doing?” I replied.
“You better shut your mouth!” the woman screamed, and I felt the muzzle of an AK rifle pressed against the back of my neck.
I started to sweat. “You just wait till I get up. I go bust you ass.” The second the word “ass” came out my mouth, I knew I had said the wrong word. I felt the muzzle of the gun trace down my back and stop between my butt cheeks.
“You have a smart mouth. Who is you people?” she asked.
“You know Sprinter? He me family,” I said, really shaking now. I felt the gun removed from my butt cheeks.
“Boy get up. Why you did not tell me you is Sprinter’s family? That man good looking for so.”
I stood up, dusting the dirt from my pants. I thought, damn, I just had this woman put a gun in my butt cheeks and now she was talking about Sprinter like he is some Adonis. I tried to see her face, but it was too dark. I cussed under my breath. I was tired of hearing how good looking Sprinter was. See, he was what you called a “Sagabuoy” on the island; that means “player” in this country. I remember when I was younger, there was one summer Sprinter would go to work at eight a.m. By eight-fifteen, he would bring home a girl. “Breakfast”, he called her. Midday he would come back with a different girl: his “lunch”. And when he got off at four p.m., he would bring home another girl: his “dinner”. I wish I could have seen her face. I wanted to know if she was breakfast, lunch, or dinner. As I walked away I heard her shout, “Tell you Sprinter I said hello.” I walked away cursing