The Panty Thief

The panty Thief

This is not a joke and if you ever come across any true resident from any ghetto and they don’t have a panty thief story for you they are not from the garrison.
It was still a mystery as to what was taking place. It was almost like magic and Tulan panties went missing again and this was not a laughing matter; but, I had to laugh because Yulan aka Aunty Bubbles who was Tulan older sister, had warned her, the words that came from her lips was (“mi tell yuh doh heng dem out but yuh nevah wha hare”) I told you not to hang them overnight, but you don’t listen. Now this was said because the panty thief would strike overnight when we all would be sleeping and be gone before daybreak. The Murray sisters were always the main targets too. Tulan the younger sister of the two was a light skin short hair netball player with the smile of top model but the attitude of a ferocious mother Lion. She was well educated, but didn’t care much about that advantage she had above most girls her age because she was all about her sports. On the other hand, Yulan was more affectionate and concerned with her intellectual growth and had her head fixed in her books most times, but just as beautiful as her sister with the same complexion. She had movie star looks and was always busy studying, even though she also took time to play the sport of netball. But, like an On and OFF switch, her heart could become that of an executioner. They would regularly brag about how they trash the other teams under the ackee tree in backyard when they won the netball games. But, someone else was doing the bragging now at their expense, the infamous panty thief. In the ghetto the laundry system is an outdoor setup; an outside pipe and washing pans (bautpan) was always available for us to wash our clothes in, either with our hands or a clothes brush, this was a wooden brush with thick straw like bristles. For drying, we would reuse the old cable or phone wires as a line, we attached it from tree to tree and hang the clothes on it with some wooden or plastic clothes pin that we purchased from Chinese wholesalers Downtown, for the simple fact that we couldn’t afford to buy washing machines and dryers so we made well with free sunlight. This was what gave the panty thief the advantage to go about lifting the girls much needed underwear and leaving them upset upon the discovery of what had happen overnight. So, after carefully calculating, we figured out that the thief must have been someone close or studied the wash pattern of the girls because like most tenement yards we had a wash schedule that went like this, each family had a day. The yard I lived in housed three families and each family would pick a day and on that day, you and you alone was allowed to do your washing. But on the other empty days, it was a first come first serve deal. But even with this system, we regularly still had arguments in the yard about whose day it was to wash and what not.
The thief obviously knew that Wednesday was the Murray’s day and devised a plan to go undetected throughout the night and take what is not theirs. We all assumed it was a man because the thought of another woman stealing them was crazy. But then again you can never underestimate the boundaries of the human mind. We then concluded that if it was a man, indeed he was  kind of a pervert or something.

THE PLAN

So we came up with all sorts of bright ideas to flush out the panty thief over the days to come, but the one that made sense, was just to keep the lights on during night so if anyone was heard moving around in the yard we would be able to spot them. That plan died with the sunset. It was a logical thought, but one that would have sent most of the adults living the yard to jail rather than actually sending the panty thief. Here’s the reason why, in the ghetto nine out of ten families lived below or right on the poverty line. So, with low income paying jobs, we weren’t able to keep up with every surging Jamaica public service (JPS) electricity bill and because of this our light was disconnected by the authorities, and when this was done we would illegally bridge  ( steal electricity ) directly from the light post. But this was dangerous. So, it would usually be done by someone who knew how to properly do this or else someone could end up being electrocuted or have the house burnt to ash. This was how we got our electricity and we created a system on how not to get caught doing this illegal act that helps us to survive, it was like clockwork and accurate, we would use the stolen electricity during the day; so the police wouldn’t realize if lights were on because of the natural sunlight and shut down as soon as it was getting dark so the illuminated bulbs wouldn’t give away the scheme, this was also another advantage the panty thief had. It was back to square 1. But, Aunty Bubbles came up with a plan that was bound to work. She decided to ask our next door neighbour Ms. Smith to allow her to ( bleech ) stay up past the regular sleep hours and watch all-night from their kitchen window that has a clear view of our backyard, to catch this mysterious panty thief in action. The plan was to wash all the panties they had, even those that never needed to wash and fill the line with panties. This was done to ensure the temptation and habit the panty thief had was bound to kick in and lured them out and just like that the panty trap plan was launched. So, on the following Wednesday, the Murrays washed and the lines were littered with panties of all various types seamless, thong, G-string, French cut, Bingo and more that their British family members would send for them from the United Kingdom, Bingo was the big ones the really big ones the grandmothers and old ladies would wear. In patience and anxiety we all watched the sun set and the moon rise just to see how effective this plan would be, much like a regular night everyone showered and settled in for bedtime so nothing would look suspicious if the thief was watching, but with quick movement and those netball reflexes Aunty bubbles flashed over the neighbors fence and into the house setting up watch right by Ms. Smith’s kitchen window with a wide and clear view of the clothe lines, as the night drifted along the yard slowly went to silent, the only thing could be heard was the mongrel dogs barking, they belonged to no one and roamed the streets at night looking for food, but unbeknown to the panty thief Aunty bubbles was in stealth mode watching like a hawk looking for a rewarding meal after a long day of hunger. Hours passed and It was about midnight, the wind blew the ackee tree as the branches sway and cast shadows but there was a unusual shadow being cast this wasn’t the shadow of a the tree but of a person and like a ghost in the night the shadow came from outside passing the light post that we used to bridge the light and swiftly passing the walls of the house sliding around the back with a slight hesitation and quick look the head of a man was peeping out checking with the eyes of perversion if anyone was awake or in the backyard, and like a ninja he disappeared in the dark, not seeing a clear face Aunty bubbles was torn apart that he must have seen her looking through Ms Smith French windows somehow, and left but just as she was about to reveal her location and give up the hunt the panty thief was back with bag in hand to store the items he so much desire to have, he must have went to survey the rest of the yard when he disappeared and so it was, he began removing the clothes pins one after the other while sniffing the panties as if he went down the line, the moon light was his enemy this night because it gave his face up like a picture from a polaroid camera, when his face was announced by the reflection from the moon Aunty bubbles was blown away and had to catch her breath several times, she said, she was left in dismay and lost for words, out of all people it was the least of whom we all suspected, it was a Rasta man who was also a known singer and music producer at the time, he lived about 3 house down from us “a wha kind dread dis man” Aunty bubbles said in her mind ( dread: the term sometime used to refer to a rasta man because of the dreadlock hair but not of the faith ) but being the person who she was she had another plan other than screaming out and allowing him to run away and not be held responsible for his freakish fetish crime.

FROM DREADLOCKS TO BALD HEAD

The morning the Sun rose with the news that the plan had worked perfectly but when the news of the identity of culprit behind the mysterious panty acts was reviled we all stood in shock as Aunty bubbles spoke, the immediate reaction from everyone in yard was to beat the dread because he could no longer be called a Rasta man. Rastafarian in Jamaica is a well-respected religion or lifestyle for some depending on what faction of the faith you would discuss this with, they live with strict principles and respect for themselves and the black consciousness they represent, we couldn’t dare call this man a Rasta man he was a disgrace to the Rastafarian community, not to mention King Selassie the crown Emperor of Ethiopia was one of the central pillar along with Leonard Howell and the honorable Marcus Garvey of the Rastafarian community and origins, these men were priceless to the African diaspora.
So, another plan was put into place this plan was the one to bring justice and satisfaction to Yulan and Tulan for the unwelcoming theft of their underwears over the past months. The dread bite the bait and was tricked into thinking that Yulan had somehow developed feelings for him and was very much in love with him for a while now but wasn’t sure as to how to let him know this due to how he was an older man and she was a young girl, but she couldn’t can’t keep fighting these hidden emotions no more and needed the dreams of sex with him to become reality, so that was the story & plan to get him to come to the house and feel comfortable enough to drop his guard unlike when he was out panty hunting at night. I was the one chosen to deliver the false message about the feelings Yulan had for this freaky dread and with bright smile across my face I never hesitated to say yes. At about 12 pm in afternoon the message was delivered and the dread was happy he even sent me back with a message of his own saying he was going to shower and would be there around 3pm because was going to get a bottle of Guinness and a spliff from Bigga shop then walk down to the house to fix up things (sex), so with sex on his mind he quickly did so and found himself mannerly knocking on the gate he jumped the night before. He boastfully entered the yard with the welcome from Tulan who was waiting for his arrival anxiously, Yulan was standing in the distance at the entrance of the rom door with just a towel wrapped around her but fully dressed underneath because this was the distraction, also hidden from the dread was some of the other tenants who resides in the tenement yard, they were hidden in the room which the dread was to enter for so his desired sexual engagements, this must have been a dream come through for him, from panty sniffing to the real thing. The dread never stand a chance I doubt if he got a chance to see inside the room because as soon as he walked up the steps a strong hand swiftly pulled him in by his shirt and netball jump kick from Tulan completed his entrance in the room, “di dread dead now” a voice from outside shouted and the beating began, from pots to 2 by 4 lumber dropped on the dread he screamed like a baby weaning, Yulan was kicking him like she was teaching someone karate and Tulan made him in punching bag, licks from all angle had the dread confused and dazed while trying run under the bed one of the strong harm neighbors pulled him from underneath so justice could be served and he quickly figured what he was being pummeled for because he said in a guilty voice for pitty (“di panty dem deh in a mi suitcase mek mi guh fi it”) the panties were hidden in a suitcase I will go get them, but that only made the beating increase, after rolling him over and it was certain he was breathless and lost for strength Aunty bubbles tied him the door post and send me for a pair of scissors, tears fell from the dread eyes when I returned, he knew this was the only way he could walk out of this alive, this was how he had to pay for his sins, (“trim di boy”) cut his locks, a real rasta man passing the house said; from the crowd which had now gathered from all excitement and news spread like while fire in the ghetto so everyone was now in front of the yard on Wellington street waiting and watching. The scissors instantly went work and the dread cried out “Jesus Christ” which left everyone rolling in laughter because Rastafarians wasn’t the type of people to call for Jesus in their time need it was more over resented by Rastafarians even though 1 branch of the faith actually acknowledge Jesus as Christ which brings some confusions at times  because it was a Christian thing to do. The dread was trimmed and given 24 hours to pack up and leave the community because he was no longer welcome and so my readers this was one of the many things I saw and experience as I was growing up in Franklyn town, Kingston, Jamaica.