It has been a few weeks since I visited John at his farm; life happens, people get busy, and we put things off for another time. Well, that another time was today; there was this strong urge to visit my friend. Strange things have been happening in these parts and I wanted reassure myself that he was okay.
The drive up was uneventful. The old truck coughed and sneezed a time or two, but safely brought me to John’s gate.
It was either he heard the truck or knew that I was coming; he was right outside, seemingly waiting on me. A padlock and a strong chain were new additions to the gate — a gate that could be kicked open with strong boots.
John saw me looking at his recently installed security measures and said, “Strange times, my girl. You never know.”
“But John, they can jump the fence; they can enter in places where there is no fence. That lock will not stop them from coming in.”
“It not to stop them; it to tell dem that I not on de farm and p’haps dey cud come back later.”
Ï did not ask John what he meant by that statement. I do not ask John what he means by statements I do not want the answer for. Times were strange indeed. Farmers were being attacked and robbed on their farms. Two were even murdered.
“This is why I came to check on you. I wanted to make sure that you’re safe.”
John face twisted into a grimace of a smile. He helped me down from the truck and we entered the gate and made our way up the path to the farm’s gazebo, University of John.
“One of de farmers who dey kill, he was yuh family, ain’t so?”
“Yes, and I knew the other one quite well. Remember I used to work in Agriculture.”
“Contracts, boy. Contracts.”
“Contracts, John? What are you talking about? Someone was paid to murder them?”
“Yeah. Dey agreed on de plan long before dey came here. Dey sign contracts.”
“What are you talking about?” This time I really wanted to know.
John looked at me a bit hesitantly, as if unsure whether he should explain himself. He knew many people do not understand this thing and John wasn’t into too much explaining and arguing.
“Ilis. Before we come here, we kno how we goin’ die. We kno our killers, we kno de time and de place. We choose it. If we want to live a good long life an’ die wid a smile pon our face, we wud choose dat. De ting is, we fugget once we reach here. We start livin’ an we fugget everyting; it was meaning to be that way.”
My eyes bugged out. “You serious?”
“Yea, I jus hope dat I was smart enuf to pick de long, happy life option cause life pon dis planet sweet no eff.”
Me: “John, what language!”
“But is true!”
I. Trudie Palmer
One Love