He was a young man, but his children were hungry, and he didn't know what to do. He walked the streets that night, trying to see the sky, but even the stars were blurred by the polluted mist and the lights that hung like sentinels from the wooden beams at the side of the road. What was he to do? A young baby, only five months old, and another four years old, and a wife who was now to be the only provider, a basic school teacher. It damaged his pride. As he walked he looked at the houses. He lived in the inner city in the West Kingston area. The people knew him and he knew them. He knew and feared the gunmen and the gangs that seemed to stir up the many quarrels and fights, but he stayed far from them, fearing for his life and, lately, fearing God.

The store had closed down. He had worked there for seven years. The money he earned had fed him, and then his family, as they came. But there seemed to be no way forward for him. No jobs that he could get because of his address, no godfather but the local don, who would probably get him into line with the others and he would be his hired slave for life. Killing, taking, hiring, transporting. As he walked, he prayed, 'Dear God, pull me from this hell, this huge roaring bonfire.' He saw one of the gang members grinning, his face pocked and shiny with sweat, his teeth laced with gold fillings. The gunman leaned against a wall looking at him. Dave hated to kill a chicken. He knew the gunman, someone they called Gold-teeth, killed without mercy. He knew he sniffed coke, but Dave sped away from that as he would from a storm; no, no, no, never that, not with a baby of five months, one of four years and a wife to attend to; never that.

He walked up to his apartment and stood at the foot of the stairs. He lived on the second floor in one of those high-rise buildings that the Government had built cheaply. He watched an older man approach him. It was a church brother. Dave had recently started going back to church. Brother Jones held a scandal bag in his hands. He held it out to him.

'Come,' he said, 'you and you wife can eat this. The little boy too. Mi brother carry it from country for me.'

'Thanks, Brother Jones. I really need it now.'

Brother Jones smiled at him and walked back to his own apartment. Between them there was an empty lot circled with barbed wire and full of rubble and hard dirt. Dave walked up the stairs with the bag in his hands. Although it was late, he hoped that it was something that he could cook now. He was hungry. He went up and opened the door.

Sharon was breastfeeding the baby. She looked up at him. 'What happen?'she asked.

'Brother Jones give me this. Say we can cook it.'

'Some porridge in the pot on the stove,' she said.

'All right, good,' Dave said thankfully. He was happy that Sharon did not seem to resent his joblessness. While she was at work he took care of the baby. But he wished that it was not like that. He took the things out of the scandal bag. A breadfruit, some red peas, two heads of cabbage. 'Good, we can cook some of it for Sunday dinner tomorrow. We have to take time. Save as much as possible for another day,' he said.

Dave ate the porridge and lay on the bed. Things could not go on like this. The idea came slowly. The bag of peas and the empty lot beside them. Maybe he could try a thing or so. He knew he would be ridiculed, but he had to try something.

Next day, he attended Church, then took a machete and went to the empty lot. He cleaned away the rubble. He took the garbage and put it in a garbage can at the side of the road. Gold-teeth watched him, grinning,

'A wha you a' do, man? he asked.

Dave ignored him. The sun was hot and he was tired, but he cleaned the lot that day and began to dig holes in the ground. Children came and mocked him. Brother Jones came and looked.

'Is plant you going to plant something?' he asked.

'Some of the peas,' Dave answered, straightening his now tired back

'You think it will grow there? The earth so tough.'

'Me haffe try, Brother Jones. Nuh work nuh deh.'

Dave planted a handful of peas and watered it every day with the baby's bathwater. The peas grew. He tried to get manure but got grass instead. He mulched the ground to keep the moisture in. The peas grew. People came and looked at it. Dave knew that if he did not keep watch he might not be the one to reap it. Meanwhile, he took care of the baby and Sharon shared her small salary with him.

When Dave reaped the peas, he kept some; the rest he took to the market. He sold the peas and decided he would plant callaloo next. He bought the seeds and planted them. The callaloo grew. This time he didn't have to take it to the market. People came and bought from him. He started an account at a credit union. Gold Teeth not longer laughed at him. Children no longer mocked him. Instead they began to beg. He gave a little but saved some.

'But man, you a' go on well,' said Brother Jones. 'What you need is a bigger piece of land, like in the country. Relocate. You growing fingers good.'

Dave thought about it.

For two years Dave cultivated the tiny piece of land. Some others followed him in other allotments. But Dave still thought about the countryside. He knew so little of it but he felt compelled to get out into the fields and closer to the trees. He read books about farming that Sharon helped him get from the library.

One day Brother Jones came to him.

'I have an idea,' he said. 'Hope it will be all right with you.'

'All right, Brother Jones,' Dave replied. 'Tell me.'

'Mi aunt died in the country. Leave a four-acre plot with a little house on it. Her children gone overseas. Them say if somebody would rent it and farm the land. Maybe even buy it later on. Them not really interested in going back there to live.'

'Where the land?' Dave felt excitement pulling at his heart strings.

'Near a little village in St. Catherine. Place call Ginger Ridge.'

'When me can go look at it?'

'How bout Saturday? Then Sharon and the children can come. Maybe we can get Porky taxi. I tell

you, let me check it out. It all right

with you?' asked Brother Jones

'If it all right with me? I think is God send you. Mi finger them just itching fe plant.'

That Saturday the taxi took them up into the St. Catherine Hills. Dave had scarcely seen land and trees and grass and animals like that before. It had been rare for him to travel out of the inner city.

The house was in need of repairs and the grass needed cutting, but Dave saw the bananas, the avocado pear trees, the breadfruit trees, the small coffee grove, the cacao trees and the cultivable land. He looked at the hills that surrounded him like a protection from the world at large. He saw the blooming immortelle that the villagers called motel, and the many plants and trees that he came to learn about later. He turned to Sharon and she was crying. They were happy tears. The children were running around in glee.

'Sharon could try to get a job at the basic school and raise chickens in the backyard. It won't be easy, but Dave, you could work for other farmers when it hard for you. And you hardly have drought up here. Could raise few goat too,' said Porky, who was sold on the idea.

And so Dave became a farmer. He rented his innercity flat on which he still had a small mortgage and the rest from the rent, along with Sharon's job, helped them get over the hard times - for there were hard times sometimes. Later he bought the house and land and expanded the farm, buying land close to the stream that ran close to the village.

They had four children and they prospered.

One day Dave stood on his verandah and looked at the Juan de Bolas Ridge which stood, a tall mountain, in front of him. He felt a surge of joy and gratitude and he thanked God for the goodness of life.

- Jean Goulbourne