For the remaining days of my stay either "Hurricane Matthew is gonna mash up Jamaica" or "Jah no let Hurricane Matthew mash up Jamaica" was the main topic as I signed on at frequent intervals to show Freddy where the Hurricane was heading. I am a "science believer" and all the early information looked like big trouble but as the path drifted East, the power of Jah seemed just as possible a reason as frontal boundries, ocean temperatures and plain bedrock science that spared Jamaica.

The problem is that sometimes disasters need to happen to make people take all the precautions necessary to save lives and property. It was pretty obvious early on the Westmoreland would not suffer much if any damage so the rush for preparations quickly slowed to a "no problem" attitude. The question is that whether the next time a disasterous storm approaches, will people take it too lightly thinking that everytime Jah will protect.

I thoroughly enjoyed my mental wind-down time so much that when I could no longer multiply three-digit numbers in my head regressing to a point that I needed a pencil and paper to add up the cost of three bokkles of juice from Popeye the juice guy who stopped by daily on his scooter that I felt finally able function normally. It has been a week and I am ready to move on to Accompong Town.

I will be returning to Negril on a couple of more occasions this trip before heading back to South Florida at the end of the year. Freddy made me a special breakfast of ackee and saltfish with johnny cakes to send me off with a full belly. I was finishing eating just as Linston pulled up to the cottage. He brought along a scandal bag of Scotch Bonnets for Marshall.

With the past few days being dry in Negril, you might know we start hitting the rain around Little London and saw it on an off all the way to Lacovia where we turned for Maggotty and up to Accompong Town. A couple of hours after we started, we pulled into my home in Accompong Town and wouldn't you know it, Marshall wasn't there. What is it with my friends? Never being home when I get there?

We unloaded the luggage to the verandah and within a few minutes, Marshall came out of the bush from tending his fields. The time between my leaving in early January and now returning in early October seemed like only a blip on the screen of life. Like the current cut at night and when the lights come back on, life continues as before.

I am home where I belong.

"Negril Out! (drop da mike)!