The man called back when he said he would and asked if I could come the next day. I had a hard time understanding his thick Barbadian accent. No, no he said. I will come to you, does that work? Oh, yes, of course, thank you. He had something to take care of on my end of the island.
The next day the man came to my house. He was old and was missing several teeth. He had brought a string and immediately attached it. He played the guitar and the music filled the whole house with beauty. I gave him twice as much as he had asked for compensation. He said he liked the simplicity of our home. We chatted. He stayed on and played some more. My husband came, said hello and left the room again.
The man looked at a print on our wall. I said it was from Jamaica, where my husband is from. He said he liked the wood that our furniture is made of. Was that your husband? I answered yes. Beautiful, he remarked, and I knew he commented on the different color of our skin.
As he was leaving he said he liked my personality. Then he asked me what I thought about the monkeys. I said they used to take all the fruit on our papaya trees. I said I love this area. He asked me if I had met Jesus. I understood what he meant and answered yes, although I give it a different name. Where do you go to church? I placed my hand on my heart. He again said he liked my personality. Don’t loose it.
I thanked the man, said I appreciated his help. I closed the door. After a few minutes he came back with a couple of pegs for the guitar, in case we’d loose one. I thanked him again. Drive up close to the gate when you exit, I said. It will open automatically.