Pause….
This would probably be a good time to put a little context into the backdrop of this time in my life up to the present. I was then living in Santa Barbara California with my wife who had only been my wife for a couple of years after living together for nearly a decade. We were married (in the nude) in a river in the mountains behind Santa Barbara at a place called Pendola Hot Springs where we were living/camping with a group of people and both collecting unemployment. I had extensively traveled outside the country but mostly during my years in the service. I liked (and still like) to be in control of all situations as much as possible. I was also a career student at Santa Barbara City College where I was working on my third 2-year degree living mainly off my GI Bill money and working some part time jobs like the Security at Santa Barbara County Bowl. During much of those ten years previous, I was working as a Cost Accountant and Auditor for a major corporation before having my position “downsized” and going on unemployment. Shortly after this trip, my wife died in an auto accident and I continued by beginning a long and sometimes turbulent courtship with a new lover; Jamaica, that has lasted for nearly 37 years. I have never stayed a night in an All Inclusive. I usually now live in remote, isolated villages around the island where I have no or little contact with tourists. I mostly prefer it like that.
Continue…
As we drew closer, the chest-thumping bass from the twin stack 12” speakers took over the surrounding mountainside. Somehow, it seemed that the laughter and shouting from inside Foxy’s walls provided the lyrics that made that bass line into an alluring melody. I have been in many similar places before this and many, many after but right now this one seemed more important and somehow dangerous in an intoxicating way.

My wife, Gus, inga and the two farmers made their way inside to the end of the bar against the wall while Peter and I stood at the doorway surveying the situation. Up to this time, I had never seen something exactly like what I was seeing now. A couple of dozen men, a couple of women and even a small child were packed into this one room shack that was big enough for a little bar, a few barstools and couple of small tables with domino games in progress. The shouting and taunting coming from those tables was occasionally interrupted by sudden spurts of dominoes being slammed one by one on the table in public displays of dominance. I understood intuitively that this could and sometimes did get out of hand resulting in violent behavior. Maybe that is why I was so intrigued by what I was witnessing.

My wife bought Peter and I a cold Red Stripe each and brought them over to the door frame where we were standing. She seemed perfectly happy with being there so that lowered my anxiety level and I started to just enjoy my surroundings a little bit more. What I really noticed was how invisible Peter and I seemed to be standing there. Especially knowing that he was something of a regular there, yet no one seemed to look our way. Again, this was somewhat comforting and showed acceptance on some level.

The music had been playing from a selection of 45’s behind the bar so after one finished, it took a few seconds for another to be played. It was during one of these lulls in the music that Peter suddenly shouted out something that changed the whole atmosphere and greatly affected my life on Jack’s Hill.

“Do you see this guy, here?” (pointing at me) “He is the best domino player in all of California and we are going to whip someone’s baxside!”

What???