Leonard Winter

I met Daryl Gilbert while we were undergraduate students. I can't remember vividly, how we met, but, we became very close friends afterwards.

It was 2009. Photo kettle had just been launched and its noise was in the air, everywhere you go. It was a remarkable breakthrough for any web and mobile application at the time. I later joined photo kettle in April 2011. As it was, photo kettle was initially designed to help friends and loved ones keep in touch and to make new friends from all over the world.

In less than two years, photo kettle became a household name amongst everyone alive.

As at 2004, I left high school, it was almost impossible to reconnect with old class mates and childhood friends. In that year, we had our graduation send forth but I stayed at home that very day. The reason was that, I didn't prepare myself to attend the ceremony. I didn't get new outfit to wear. I felt it was going to be an extra financial burden on my parents, So, I played the mortal kombat ultimate video game throughout that day.

Being absent at the send forth meant, I wasn't going to have the opportunity at least to exchange contacts with my classmates. Six years later, photo kettle made that reconnect a reality. Over eighty percent of my class mates were on photo kettle as long as I could remember their names.

I had also added Daryl to my friends' list. As usual, profile checking was the thing to do when a new friend is added or a new friend request is accepted. At least, you want to know the history of your new friend or acquaintance. So, Daryl's profile read Leonard Winter high school, St. James metropolis.

Well, his high school was in St. James metropolis. I just forgot about it (forgot?

Not the name of the school anyway), because, I never dreamt of coming in

contact with the school neither do I have intentions or plans of going to St. James at any time. I had been raised up in a local community in Mona's harbour. I did all my schoolings in Mona's harbour.

We had graduated from college eight years after. I was preparing for my

wedding. In fact, the wedding date has been fixed and my younger brother

supposed to be my best man. We were looking for an accommodation to give us shelter from wednesday's night to the evening of the wedding day. Nobody was coming to mind.

I remembered, I could at least contact my former set mate, Leslie Ashkel. He had been with us in the same college, but in the faculty of sciences.

As a result of transportation cost, I had chosen him as a substitute for my best

man. In the cause of our conversation for the wedding preparation, he had said he resided in Dennis Melford boulevard, St. James metropolis.

Well, I'm not a St. Jamesian. I didn't grow up there. But, my fiancée had said,

Leslie was our best option to accommodate us. I had contacted him earlier on concerning the need at hand. He agreed to be of help.

We boarded different transit buses from Mona's harbour and Gilmont city

respectively, my younger brother and I. We met at Brad's town around 07:38p.m

on Tuesday. My fiancée would later catch up with us. My phone's battery was almost flat. The journey from Gilmont city to St. James metropolis lasted almost ten hours. On getting to Brad's town, I had called Leslie severally and he wasn't picking his calls. I got frustrated, and I thought maybe he doesn't want us to come to his house. He later picked up and told me to start coming. At that time, my fiancée had joined us. Together, we set out to go to Leslie's house.

We got to Leslie's residence about 08:27pm. He wasn't back from work. We sat outside the premises of his residence. It was a three storey building with blocks of two-bedroom flats on each floor. We were there for the first time, So, it was difficult to locate his apartment. All the descriptions we made to the children we saw in the premises; could not match the person we were looking for. We became confused, it seemed we got to the wrong place.

Nevertheless, the address he had earlier sent bore a resemblance of the residence of a friend of my fiancée's. She said, she had been here before. The wife of this friend of hers, had just delivered a baby girl, a couple of months ago. I had requested we go and see them while we waited Leslie's return. She objected, stating that the friend was out of the city for a job and that the wife isn't acquainted with her.

It was the most stressful journey I had embarked on, all my life. I was so

exhausted. I wished I was at home at that time. I had access to a comfortable bedroom, water closet, food at my disposal. I could eat whatever I can lay hands on. Here I am, so famished; having an understanding that I won't get the comfort I needed that weekend. Well, these are things we do for love. Our wedding had been slated for that Saturday. Beside me, was my younger brother, Shane. I could see the rage on his face and shoulders, I saw his arrogance and pride. He had been brought up with a silver spoon. Too much comfort, I thought. We discussed about the neighbourhood and what we had seen. How people brag about what they are and what they have.

Hearing them speak, you'd think they live in paradise; like they were living in

heaven on earth.

Here comes the man we have been waiting for, brother Leslie. He was an average height man in his early thirties. Round head, plump and a face like that of a buffoon. We exchanged pleasantries and a brief introduction of my company was made.

"Welcome Sir," I said. "This is my fiancée, Katy Hanks and my younger brother,

Shane Bishop. Guys, this is, brother Leslie." He responded with a handshake

with Shane.

We went upstairs to his apartment as he led the way. The environment was

unkept. As we walked up the stairs, on their veranda, I saw children clothes that

looked like rags hanging on a rope line, tensioned on two nails which were

fastened to a wall.

Finally, we got to the door that led inside the house. It was secured with an old-

fashioned burglary proof. One he had mastered how to open (Same I found

difficult to lock the next day). We got into the house, a short corridor from the

entrance led to the sitting room. Before the sitting room, on the left was a toilet

and bathroom. Mehn! the house was untidy (a poultry wasn't as untidy as it was). The curtains were very dirty like the they've never been washed in the last six years. Towards the window facing the opposite street, was a book shelf with all the books unarranged. The cushion in the sitting room, was so moist like it had been a combination of dust and sweat percolating into it over the years. I tell you, there was no trace of ambiance nor aesthetics in the house. My God, how can somebody be this careless (do I say, care free?), I thought. I wasn't much of a fashionable person, but I couldn't be this indolent to allow my apartment become very unkempt to this point.

Well, we've gotten to know where we will be spending the next three days till

after my wedding day. It was time for my fiancée to leave for her parent's house in the other part of the city. She thanked Leslie for accommodating us. We all stood up and left.

It was about 09:28pm now. We had taken the tail gate as we walked my fiancée to the major road. While we walked, my fiancée and Leslie dominated the conversation (may be because, they had both been raised up in St. James Metropolis. I felt bad or may be jealous. This woman was going to be my wife); they should have also carried myself and my brother along.

It was late that night. So, we couldn't get a clear view of the street while we took

that walk. We were to leave for Albert's town in the afternoon the next day. We

had to know where to get a bus that will take us to our destination. Early the next

morning, I decided to take a walk from the head gate down the street. It was a

long walk. I hadn't taken any meal for breakfast.

On both sides of the road, were lock up shops (many of which the owners were

yet to open for business). At other points on the road, were women selling fried plantain cakes, some were selling yam and potatoes. Vehicles started plying the road with heavy traffic as the day broke more. As I continued walking, I had felt I should turn back and find my way back home. But, I walked on, since I had a goal to know where that road terminated. There where vehicles coming from a sharp bend ahead of me.

I had thought, may be the road had ended there and then, a commencement of a differently new road. No, it was a continuation of the same road I had started my walk initially (this, I got to know as I approached the bend). I continued walking, observing the neighbourhoods as I got passed each building. The keen eyes of onlookers as if they had seen a foreigner.

While I looked onward and forward to reach my destination, there was a building with protruding fence and the gate was not in view immediately. As I approached the end of the fence, I managed to look at the gate, behold it was Leonard Winter High School. Waw! This must be the high school, Daryl attended. Truly, I was this excited! Who would have thought on a day like this, I'll get to see and be at where Leonard Winter was located? "This life", I said to myself. What a coincidence! I should have taken a selfie, as an evidence Daryl, should see.

I got to the end of the road. Its exit was leading back to the express way at the rear and in front, was the bus stop we had alighted the previous night.