The night is cold; the scattered stars highlight only the unfathomable depth of the Heavens. The full moon glows remotely in the eastern sky, and is concealed, then revealed, then concealed, then finally revealed again, by sluggish, grey clouds. Indiscernible leaves shake quietly in the draught. The whisper of their constant rustling is punctuated by the shrill cry, and answering response, of two croaking lizards. Sun-dried trees glow faintly, copper in the moonlight against the matte-black hills looming in the near distance.
The sounds of the night ebb, and flow. Islands of expectant quiet, when Nature seems poised, waiting for the next sign, meld into soft affirmations of life. The muted whispering of wings spread in flight signals the passing of a solitary owl. The continual rustle of invisible crickets and the lonely whistle of a hidden toad, mask imaginary footfalls. Half-forgotten stories of ghouls, are suddenly remembered and embellished with variations on the theme often heard in the evening news. A mosquito whines, stridently, inviting its mate to dine. A distant dog howls. Another dog, close by, growls; two others bark. Everything coupled, everything paired, everything as it should be. A sand-fly feasts hungrily on human flesh; an answering slap; nature, at war with civilisation.
The azure sea-scape on the face-plate of a mobile phone blazes; signalling a summons. It is the fifth for the evening.
"This is Michael. I'm sorry I'm not able to answer your call just now, but if you leave your name and a brief message, I'll get back to you as soon as possible..."
"Where the hell are you Michael? I have been waiting here for over an hour-and-a-half...I am sick of this! I am sick of you! Why don't you learn to answer your fucking cell phone? You're supposed to be an intelligent man...You know something, let's not bother with this anymore... you've wasted enough of my time... I won't die without you, Michael; so just sod off..."
And all the while a garden water-feature plays merrily with carefully-placed sculpted stones nearby. The occasional shiny SUV speeds its way along the nearly deserted street; homeward bound. Sporadic laughter, the loud moans of a newly-wed couple locked in a passionate embrace, and distant television sets blare the fact that their owners have some semblance of a life.
***
Meanwhile, across town, in a comfortable penthouse apartment overlooking New Kingston, Michael lies in his bed, snuggling with a companion, in the spot where the woman had hoped to be. He knows that it will be futile to tell her that he has made a choice at last, and that she is not going to be it. They both know that the woman is pretty, and that she is a perfect lover. They both know that most men would want to be with her; that she will land on her feet, but that she is not really his type; too whining, she is.
He likes strong, independent women, who stand on their own two feet, who insist on making life for themselves without the help of the men who come by. He likes women who can stand toe-to-toe with the boys in the boardroom, who play tennis and golf, who like to watch football, who are not afraid of lizards or heights. She is none of those things.
He likes women who don't roll their eyes if he cracks one little dirty joke; who have no problem with swearing a good one if the car tyre blows out in the middle of the night, during the rain while on the drive home after a night out with friends. He likes women who keep themselves in good shape and who are healthy, without being too prissy about it. The woman on the other end of the line is very prissy.
She nags, and bitches about other people. She likes to speculate about other people's sexuality. She expects him to pick up the tab all the time, and she doesn't ever return the favour. She doesn't cook, ever, or want to have children. He has even seen her be unkind to the security guard at the gate of his office! He had to reminded her that the man was just doing his job when he asked her to whom she had come. He had to remind her that it was for this reason that he was paying him.
Most of all, he really does not like women who cheat on their husbands. There is something wrong about that. He has come to that conclusion after two wives have caused him to have to start over again in life. The damn Jamaican laws say that the spouse gets half of everything after five years of marriage regardless of who cheats! He is not about to let that happen to him again! If the woman on the other end of the line would cheat on her current husband with him then it is conceivable that she would cheat on him too, he reasons. He will just stick to the old boys' club from now on. Way more to his liking anyway if he's honest with himself.
