"Irwin." Her voice sounded sweet calling my name, but I knew it wasn't.

I looked up from my slumped place in the chair on the verandah of my aunt's house. Nodelyn was my sister and my warden in this beautiful hellhole.

One mango tree presided over the red roof of the house and an ackee tree blooming over the blue-painted zinc awning coated with the dirt of the passing hurricane season that waved us goodbye.

The garden in front of our verandah grill was green with pride, with dew-blessed flowers populating the length of the wall in greed for the sun.

She stood next to the light pine door wearing a yellow blouse and brown tights. Her rotund figure made my lanky body look worse than the cheap skeleton props laying across the floor of a Halloween party.

She looked out through the metal grill mesh that held us, prisoner, in this locale we called Berry Hill. Nodelyn scratched the faux hair on her head, yet made a frustrated moan.

We were nestled in Bottuleaf, the eastern section of Berry Hill. Kids played along the street. Neighbors gossiped in glee. The trees shook in avid joy to the life's blood of the planet flowing around them.

My home…

No…

Sometimes I forgot.

This was the prison my father placed me in. Promoted to me as a quiet community, it was a place that would have settled my tumultuous ways.

It was not quiet here, just silent.

I breathed out and said nothing, least she noticed me, but I was elated. They couldn't catch me after I put in an extra mile to avoid them. Now, I had to find someone far from here to sell a laptop to.

I quivered, for her eyes burned through my skin.

"Irwin, you don't have anything better to do other than a cock up?" she asked.

I liked the way I lived. Robbing people once in a while and spending the money until I rob somebody else was how I liked it. Go and get ran over by a car big sister and stop bothering me! "Nope," I said.

"Every day you on the street and you can't find work?"

I hated people constantly sitting on my name or my whereabouts like they owned me. They never owned me. My sister was one of many that acted like she had to look out for her worthless brother, me.

What was worthless was working for people. The amount of money they paid you for the amount of work you did was never worth it. Besides, I had no friends and I preferred it that way and friends were the only way to get work in Jamaica.

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"I need links to get a work. You a woman, call up your friends and inquire for me then!" I replied quickly.

She sighed and shook her head in disgust.

I scoffed and looked away from her scrutinizing glare. At that moment, I saw a dark brown-skinned man with short hair, and a clean-cut hairline.

He maneuvered himself in front of our home.

The short and badly in repair wall was all that blocked him from us. His eyes downward, he moved slowly, while taking glances at the lawn between us.

He was trying not to look at us. I looked up, Nodelyn had noticed him as well, but her face was more curious.

Who the hell was he?

He put his finger on his lips as if to say something.

"Can I help you with something? Why are you just stalking our house front suh?" Nodelyn asked.

He finally looked right at her and smiled with a twirl of his body.

"Hi, my name is Malt. I was wondering if I could talk to you." He waved his hands up in an exaggerated fashion. "If you are done talking that is."

I was about to say something, but she beat me to the punch. "Me done talk to that waste of space over there, what do you want Malt?" She said his name with a grin as if she pictured the comedy of a man with that name.

My eyes rolled. I knew what it was like to have a last name ripe for comedy. My name was Pristine for the sake of god. I could have taken my father's name, Johnson, but my father had no hold over me.

"Well, I wanted to talk to him really," Malt answered.

She looked shocked, but I was now pondering where I hid that laptop. Had I hidden it? It was on the bed if not the table.

There was no way I got caught, right? No one ever came to this house asking for me, so that was not possible. I had no friends in Berry Hill.

At least Aunty Riana was not here. But why me? This guy didn't look like a government employee or anything. I watched him as he shot his eyes between us.

"Ah... Listen I don't want to talk about this here. Too many ears you know..."

Nodelyn shook her head. "Yeah, but we don't know you." She looked at me for some signal of sorts. What was she expecting from me?

"I am part of the Berry Hill Assassins, you know, the American Football team," Malt said.

I groaned as Nodelyn widened her eyes. That stupid thing again, no one wanted to join that team, worse me. Death interested me more than that stupid game.

"Oh, ok." Nodelyn looked at me. I was about to shout my displeasure.

"But what I wanted to talk about was the crime I saw your brother do," he said hoarsely, as if trying to whisper.

Nodelyn glared at me with narrowed eyes. I was not sure what to say. Should I have told him to go away, no, if he knew, he would have ratted me out. Why was he here then? Where was the guy I stole from?

Was he around, or had Malt come here on his behalf?

I decided not to overplay my hand. First, I denied it, "I don't know what you are talking about my youth."

He blinked, looked down the street and back at me. Those eyes became like piecing globes. "You are pretty fast, really fast. Me and the other two guys under the tree were shocked."

I remembered now. Back then I passed him and some other guys around Henly Lane, but how had he known? I looked at him, but he smiled brighter as if confident he caught me. Like hell he had, I was not admitting to anything.

Nodelyn moved towards the gate and unlocked the padlock.

"What the hell are you doing? You crazy woman?!" I asked.

She turned and shot me a fierce glare. "Shut up!" She turned to Malt who passed onto the verandah, "What crime?"

He uttered lowly, "He stole a laptop."