Curfew

Mac’s mother (affectionately known as “Momma”) was a real character, a rather forbidding matriarch until you realized that she had a heart of gold. Momma seemed to feed a small army – a large number of people wended their way towards her house throughout the day to be given a plate of food. However, I noticed that many wended their way for an entirely different reason, and when these non-eaters arrived Momma would hustle from the kitchen in a rather mysterious fashion.

One day I asked Mac about his mother’s frequent disappearances, and that’s when I found out that she was a bit of a pirate! There was a room built under the front porch where Momma conducted a brisk business selling contraband, which seemed to consist of whisky, cigarettes and Carnation evaporated milk. This selling of contraband was supposed to be a secret – very “hush hush”, but judging from the steady stream of customers the entire island knew about it.

On December 7, 1979 a group of rebels carried out what was to be a “no bloodshed” coup on Union Island. Unsatisfied by the neglect of the Southern Grenadines by Cato’s government, they protested his victory at the polls by taking over the island’s government buildings. The uprising was quelled fairly quickly, but a state of emergency was declared and a dusk-to-dawn curfew imposed. This curfew raised a good deal of local consternation because it was imposed close to the start of the traditional “nine mornings” festivities, and the handful of tourists on the island wondered where they would go to have dinner each night. At that point in time Mac’s was simply a bake shop and closed around 3:00; being home by dusk would not be much of a hardship, but I would have to sneak out well before dawn to start the day’s baking!

During the confusion surrounding the Union island uprising a rumour circulated that the police had raided the club house at Industry, digging up the gardens in a vain attempt to find hidden arms and ammunition. I had no way of knowing whether or not this rumour was true, but Momma certainly took it to heart. She figured that if the police were searching for smuggled guns they might look for OTHER smuggled items as well, and her paranoia grew by the hour. Mac and Nolly were enlisted to help, and the contraband under the front porch was removed and hidden elsewhere. When I got to Family Hill that afternoon Momma proudly showed me where she had concealed her “stash”, and I had to laugh. Taking up a good portion of her bedroom was an old sea chest, now filled with whisky, cigarettes and Carnation evaporated milk instead of sheets, pillow-cases and bed spreads.

“Momma, if you were the police raiding a house where is the first place you would look in this room?”

Momma looked at me silently for a very long time, then walked away.

Mac was late getting home that evening – it was well past sunset and he had therefore violated the imposed curfew. Covered with dirt, Mac scowled at me and said;

“Thanks a lot!”

He was furious. Momma had taken my comment about the sea chest seriously, and had made Mac dig a large hole in her back yard. He then had to move the contraband from her bedroom and bury it, filling the hole he just KNEW he would have to dig up again. Sure enough, when the excitement died down Mac had to retrieve the whisky, cigarettes and Carnation evaporated milk and he was NOT a happy camper!

I don’t recall how long the curfew lasted, but I DO know two things for sure; Momma’s “stash” was never discovered by the authorities, and more than one baby was born nine months after the dusk-to-dawn rule was imposed!