6 CHAPTER SIX- THE UNRAVELLING OF THE DREAM

Jamaica – 1990’s

Lisa’s mom had broken the news to her that for a number of weeks she could not find her nephew, Mathew. He had left for work two Fridays ago and had not been heard from since. His two ‘confederates’ as she called them were also unreachable and all she heard was voice mail on their cell phones. However, considering her brother being a contractor with several projects island wide, he had probably sent his son and the two cronies to some god-forsaken site that had no cell phone coverage. As usual, her brother’s dealing were always so ultra-secretive, but she was concerned that she had not seen her nephew. Her gut was telling her something was wrong. Damian was a secretive fellow and she recognised similar traits in her daughter, Lisa. It was so frustrating dealing with Damian and the so called workers that always seemed to congregate around him. To her they looked like thugs. However, she gave him the benefit of the doubt.

The Christmas season was fast approaching and Damian Thompson, the leader of the Cancel Dem Gang, was preparing their fundraising strategy to ensure that the numerous treats would have been successful. Having been educated at Jamaica College and obtaining 9 subjects at the Caribbean Council Examinations and Three A Levels, he had intended to pursue his dreams of becoming a Doctor. However, the streets got the better of him and he had become involved in the Gang as a ‘shotta’ and had worked his way up to the top of the outfit. The education he received at the University of the Streets had far outweighed what he could have gained at any formal university. However, he still had his regrets; he had dreamed of respectability and status in the society along with fame and fortune. Instead he was a contractor and had become entangled with the politicians, police and making a living on the streets. He was a meticulous person that paid attention to detail, allowing him to always be one step ahead of the law, never to be fingered in any criminal misdeeds.

While he had committed numerous shootings, robberies and even a few killings, his name was never called in relation to these crimes in the courthouse. He had fame and a considerable fortune that was saved in his aunt’s name in the event that the Anti Gang or the team from MOCA paid him a visit. His name was whispered in the business places in and around Spanish Town and its environs. He wanted none of this life for his children, but he needed a trusted lieutenant and based on his motto that blood was thicker than water only his sibling could be his right hand. The trade of meat for guns had recently netted him a small cache of arms and bullets that he sold or rented to those who were willing to pay cash.

The thought of someone being hurt based on the sale of a bullet or a gun had long dissipated from his conscience as material things cannot be destroyed, but should only be transferred from one owner to the next. A person, when posed with a threat to his life, had a right to defend it, but not to give it away unnecessarily. Therefore, in his mind, based on his principle, every well thinking person should not seek to prevent the transfer of material goods even if being forced to do so at the point of a gun or knife. Only idiots resisted and as a result they deserved what they got. It was better to be robbed today and be allowed to work tomorrow to be robbed again another day.

Killing had to be justified in his outfit and any man under his supervision that killed another without permission was punished with the death of someone close to him. Based on his reasoning, he saw no reason why Mathew was in police custody with bullet wounds and clinging to life by a thread. He had not authorised any operations on that Friday, especially with those new weapons that he had just received from Haiti. The weapons were untested and had not yet been certified for use. There would have been hell to pay for the disobedience of the operating procedures. His son was in the hospital and the two goons that were his left and right arms could not be found, but worse the weapons valuing over one million Dollars were unaccounted for. The store keeper had already lost an eye for issuing the weapons, even though he tried to justify that he was being instructed by Damian’s own son Mathew.

After all rules were rules and what would the society come to, if rules were not being observed; there would be chaos and anarchy. He had paid good money to his informant in the police force for a copy of the statement and police report that was filed by the man who was responsible for shooting his son. The name of the shooter was never fully disclosed to the media, but Damian had all the details in his hands including a copy of the files from the Gun Licensing Authority. He had dispatched a team to do reconnaissance and provide a fulsome report. He knew almost everything about the family, as he had someone going through their garbage at nights, posing as a mad man. The life as a gang leader was not easy, as he had multiple stakeholders to appease. The safety and welfare of his employees was paramount to him and he had health plans and benefits along with doctors, nurses, pharmacists and lawyers that were kept on retainer. He was sure that running the Outfit was similar to running a company listed on the stock exchange, but came with much more risks.

Based on the report he received from his team, Jaden McNamara had been seen talking to his niece, Lisa and whether by coincidence or not, Jaden was on the scene of the shooting. If he, Damian, could not catch the person responsible for shooting his son, then someone else would have to answer for their actions. However, he would not let his sister know what had happened to her nephew. As far as the family was concerned, he was a successful contractor that had remained true to his roots and stayed in his community and employed several misguided young men and women. He contributed to the local economy and paid his taxes in the form of property and other taxes. He faced the same challenges of managing men and women, setting targets and achieving the corporate objectives just as much as any other legitimate company. The burden of management was heavy on his shoulders especially when combined with the pain he felt from the circumstances in which his son was currently in. As a father he was scared, but as the leader of the Gang he was the brave general that was not afraid to take on the world. Vengeance had to be served and this time he had to do it himself, even if the whole world found out.

Meanwhile, almost 25 miles away, the campus of the University of Papine was akin to a ghost town with activities scaled back as a result of the upcoming examinations. Lisa and I walked hand in hand towards the Burger Joint and her phone rang in her pocket.

“Answer it, Lisa, I need to ask you something, but it can wait."

She took out the high end phone and looked at the display and hissed her teeth, "Look who is calling,” she said as she showed me the phone screen.

"Put him on speaker phone,” I said.

“That is rude, but I want you, Jaden, to hear how obnoxious and disgusting he can be. Don't say anything, Jaden, please,” Lisa begged. “Yes, Antonio.”

“Lisa, I am growing increasingly uncomfortable with my observations of the interactions between yourself and Jaden McNamara.”

“What the hell are you talking about Antonio?” she asked.

“I have gotten reports that you guys have been seen having lunch together or sitting beside each other in class. What the hell is happening between you and that little boy from Spanish Town? You two are always laughing or whispering to each other,” said Antonio.

“Am I not my own person, Antonio and shouldn’t I be free to do the things I want to or speak to anyone that I choose?”

“I have invested time and money cultivating our friendship, Lisa Whitman and I will not tolerate another man reaping the benefits of my labour and the worst part about it is that other people on campus have been reporting everything you do to me. We Sharpe men, always get what we see and want and there can only be one man sitting beside you and this is my kingdom, Lisa.”

“Antonio, you are manipulative and narcissistic and the last time I checked my last name is Whitman and as far as I know this is still a free country and that allows me to be friendly with anybody that I chose,” she replied.

“Lisa, I don’t care what you believe. I own you and your family and I will not have you embarrass me on campus by carousing with Jaden. I have planned out our lives together already as soon as we leave college. I will be running the first restaurant in the Sharpe Group of Companies and you will be my assistant.

“Antonio Sharpe, did I ever tell you that I needed charity or that my

family is desperate for your help? I think I am quite capable of finding my own job

thank you.”

“Just listen about the restaurant before you judge, Lisa.

I’ve been there more than once and it’s located on High Street in the cool climes of

Manchester. The restaurant caters to the Yuppies and those who have no

difficulty breaking out their black credit cards and those who want to escape

from the hustle and bustle of Kingston and relax in the Majestic surroundings of a

former Great House. The Plantation, as it is called, reflected the theme of a

colonial era slavery plantation where the slaves provided services at the request of

their masters no matter how sordid; it was their duty to please.

The front office and floor staff were handpicked by Ray and he has fine tastes in wine, food and women. The waitresses are all mixed race with clean, brown skin with the exception of the Maitre D who is an amazon attired in grass skirts and tank tops.

The kitchen is staffed with qualified chefs and cooks from Europe. They provide culinary gourmet dishes reminiscent of the Roman Empire. The VIP Room has no cutlery or fine china plates, but food is served and eaten from the bodies of the choice waitresses. The more exotic the cuisine is an indication of the type of guest that paid patronage to the VIP Room. The colour of the plate matches the meal that is being eaten by the diners. If fish is being served, the human plates would match the meal; if it is dark meat to be eaten, then the chargers would be matching.

Each course is always served on fresh plates and this ensures that the Plantation performs above all expectations. For a fee, the patrons could even be allowed to wash their own plates in privacy. Needless to say, the plate washing room made more revenue than the restaurant. I marvel at the type and popularity of the patrons of the Plantation and the business acumen of my father to have thought about the exclusive VIP Room.

Patrons make their bookings in anonymity and pay with special cards that are registered with one of his holding companies in Cayman. Private booths are provided and themed masks are provided and delivered to their places of residence or selected location in order to protect their identity. Lisa, I have tested out the facilities and have recommended the VIP Service to selected friends and alumni. After all, there is only one way a man would know if the food tasted spectacular and I have tried it several times and with each experience I ensured that I washed and dried the vessels myself. I intend to carry you to the Plantation, to show you that you will be doing the Internship at the Plantation. This will be the stepping stone in launching your career in the Sharpe Group of Companies, Lisa. I am so excited for us, Lisa, and while I knew that the country had more churches per square mile than any other country in the world, I marvel at the patronage of the VIP Room and that it was so over booked.

The artistic entertainment offered is first class at the Plantation and it is surpassed only by the epicurean delight that the executive chef is able to dream up. Marketing and procurement of supplies are handled by a handpicked team that has an eye for detail that matched the exacting and extremely high standards of the group’s COO, Ray Antonio Sharpe. Only platinum-selling artistes are invited to display their trade and the usual financial rewards are usually traded for a few meals in the VIP Room and he ensures that the gender is appropriate to match the artistes’ desires. The morale issues are never a problem as the details of patronage are secretly recorded to ensure that in the event leverage is required, that it is available.

My father told me about one of his exploits at the restaurant. He showed me the tape of a lady named Marsha Martin whom he had invited to the Plantation. I saw her reaction to the VIP room, and despite her initial protest she actually enjoyed eating the droplets of molten chocolate from around the shaft of Pierre’s pedestal for her dessert. He knew she was married and her husband, Dominique probably would not have participated or approved, but he had her under his spell. He claimed that she relished licking the base of the phallus which only made it produce more molten chocolate from the top of the rigid pedestal.

Dad planned out everything and he told me how his manhood rose as he thought about Marsha’s tongue playing joyfully with his pedestal and that his white cream would explode all over her face. However, he just wanted to see how kinky she could be and he had formulated a plan on their trip to Bimini next week. He told me that he hoped that his son would become the man to take over the Group of Companies and based on what he had been hearing, the boy was a chip off the shoulder. There is no other restaurant in the country that could match or outperform the Plantation based on the decadence and the cuisine offered and when combined with the ambiance and the service provided by the scantily clad staff. My father said he was also proud of the fact that I was doing well in school and would become the manager soon.

So, Lisa, my dad has worked hard building out the Plantation and had spent a significant amount of money to restore the Great House and then to retrofit it for a Restaurant. The location is spectacular as it offered a breath-taking view of the country side and the town in the distance. The long, palm-lined driveway provided the desired appeal of exclusivity and seclusion. These factors ensured that his business model was spot on.

The build out of his business plan also entailed a high end hotel that catered to the fetishes of an exclusive clientele that had become hooked on the VIP Room and wanted to extend their time and wanted a truly unforgettable experience. Sex was selling and he knew the whole world was buying and his connections allowed him the choice selection of fresh goods passing through the Island’s illicit ports. A mixture of Latin, European and African girls who wanted a chance to immigrate to the Big Apple were only too happy for a short stint and a bite at the Plantation. This facilitated his motto of providing the freshest cuisine that the world could provide. It did not matter that he was participating in human trafficking, but rationalised it to creating an opportunity for everybody to make a living even if they had to use their bodies to do it. While I am not fully cognizant of all the operations behind the scenes with the Plantation, I am confident that in a few short months I will be the man in charge and that you Lisa Whitman would be by my side.”

“Antonio, the plans sound nice, but are you sure I am the right fit for that place?

It sounds so hedonistic.”

“Just promise me to have an open mind, Lisa; and I am confident that after this talk Jaden McNamara would be history after this weekend, if all things held equal.”

“What do you mean, Antonio about Jaden being history; didn’t you hear what recently happened to Jaden and his father?”

“Yes, Lisa, every one by now heard about Jaden’s misfortune; by the way, am I on speakerphone? Please take me off speaker.”

“Anyway, Antonio, I have to go; so, we will speak later.”

“Jaden, did you hear all of that?” Lisa asked.

“Yes, I did, Lisa. It seems your boyfriend has your life all planned out for you. What are you going to do?”

“Jaden, there is a lot I haven’t told you about me and I am not as fortunate like you to grow up in a home with both parents that are professionals with a nice life.”

I could see the sadness in her eyes as she spoke and I reached forward and touched her hand softly and said,

“Hey, Lisa, I am your friend no matter what and we have lots of time, and my background does not matter, you are what matters.”

It was my first romantic gesture and I watched as her spirit soared as if my words had soothed her fears.

“Jaden, you surely do know how to make a woman feel good; where have you been all my life?”

“Hah,” I laughed, “oh in the shadows watching you go by like a statue.”

“I wonder what gave you the courage to step forward.”

“You were the first to say something, Lisa; I was still too afraid and spent time rehearsing a speech, that it turns out I never needed.”

Lisa pulled me forward and downward and kissed me softly on my cheek and my cheeks turned a fiery reddish blue.

“Jaden, what is that sound?” she asked as she released me.

“Oh, that is the sound of my heart pounding in my chest.”

“Wow, imagine if I had missed and kissed you on the lips, Jaden!”

“You would probably have to mop me up off the floor,” I replied.

She laughed and laughed and it sounded as if it was coming from the pit of her stomach.