Paul H. Williams, Gleaner Writer

Two days before Hurricane Dean, my brand-new laptop was stolen, and I went into turmoil. So, when the news of the impending hurricane hit me, I nearly buckled under. My laptop was gone, and then this unwanted guest was now breathing down my neck. I spent Saturday, August 18, packing and preparing for the fury, and in all the uneasy anticipation, I totally forgot about my loss.

It was during th of the storm, the Sunday night, when it appeared as if the ferocious winds were about to lift my roof, that I suddenly remembered that one of the tools of my existence had gone, perhaps forever. I cursed the storm, the damned thief, and the idiot who let him into my home.

'Dean' subsequently left a trail of destruction, but I had hoped, in my bewilderment, that he would have blown back my computer and my jump drive to me. So, I spent the next several weeks in anger, swearing to the heavens to get my pound of flesh had I seen the robber, a delivery man whom I have seen twice before. Staring at every bicycle rider was now my favourite pastime, and I saw myself in jail several times over.

I didn't report the matter to the police formally, because every time I attempted, a voice said no. However, I spoke to a policeman about it, in a casual conversation. I told some other people about it, reluctantly. I just could not be bothered with the follow-up questions; they were intensifying my anger.

Dead-ends

I did my own investigations and got people to look out for the thief. A colleague of his took my number to contact me should she see him. I got calls of his sighting, but they all led to dead-ends. Yet, at the back of my brain, I knew I was going to get my computer back; but when and in what condition? I couldn't tell.

On Friday, September 28, about 9:00 p.m., I got a call from a young man, who identified himself as the person who stole my computer. Under the strain of meeting a particular deadline, I said, "Who? Yuh mad!" Then I heard 'computer' echoing in my skull, and I shouted, "Where are you?" He said, "Go to ABCand get your computer from Tina. I just want you to get your computer back." He refused to give me details. I went into a tailspin, utterly dumbstruck, yet I was also excited.

I quickly saved the number of the phone from which he called, and called the police. When we went to where he sent me, we realised it was a business place. I called him, and he said I could return the following day. The following day! It was to be my mother's 70th birthday family gathering and no computer was going to prevent me from going. I told the police to let the matter rest until the Monday.

I spent the rest of the night in ambivalence, not knowing whether I should be cautious, or excited about Mama's gathering. Eventually, I kicked the thief and the computer out of my head, and chose the latter. I was going home to see them all, Bum-Bum and Ginger (nieces) and the rest of the players in the never-ending Williams family drama. I couldn't wait to tell my favourite family joke about Mama, Keith (brother) and the red and white polka dot bikini.

Tears, laughter

After a Saturday night of happy tears and raucous laughter, it was a day of basking my black skin on the white sands of Doctor's Cave Beach. Leaving the turquoise waters of the Caribbean Sea was hard, but there was a certain matter that required my full attention. So, it was back to St. Andrew to deal with the source of my discontent.

Monday morning. 10 o'clock. I arrived at ABC only to see a removal notice with two contact numbers. I called the first number several times and got no answer. Finally, a young lady did, but said she wasn't Tina. Tina was working with another company and she had no number for that company.

I called the other number, a man answered. I explained to him why I was looking for Tina and how important it was for me to contact her. I got a number, promptly called it many times, only to get voice messages. I left quite a few myself, wondering whether they would ever be replied to.

Later in the day, a young woman called me about the messages. She said she was Tina's sister, and that Tina was in hospital 'having baby'. Tina was having baby; I wanted my computer. She was apprised of the seriousness of my purpose, and I was told that the laptop was with the police. With the police! Why was it with the police? Cory had sold the laptop to her sister, and in her attempt to get value for money she took it to a technician, who realised it was stolen property. Tina took it to the police, who insisted on keeping it.

'Curiouser and curiouser'

Hiccup, hiccup! For I know that sometimes evidence suddenly grows legs and walks out of police vaults. The matter was getting 'curiouser and curiouser', to use a phrase from Alice in Wonderland. I asked which police was dealing with the matter. She didn't know, but said she would call Tina's boyfriend who would get in touch with Tina since she had Tina's phone, and get back to me. Whom did I kill to deserve all of this?

I called the police, and was told the officer who knew about the matter was on leave. My volcano of frustration was now about to erupt - the rumbling, the rumbling, the rumbling. I left my name and number, and went home to sit in limbo, but not before calling Jasper, the thief. He was surprised, because all this while he thought Tina had the laptop. For some reason, he was glad the police had it.

At home, in my solitude, listening to Louis Armstrong's gravelly voice, I waited for the officer to call. And he did. When he identified himself, my heart raced, not knowing what story he was now going to tell me. It had better be good, for the volcano was rumbling, rumbling, rumbling.

Next week, His Story goes into the mind of the thief, when 'The Anatomy of a Theft' continues.

Location and names have been changed.

paul.williams@gleanerjm.com