Night Calypso by Lawrence Scott

the mooring rope knotted to one of the pylons on the jetty. He was the great trickster.
    â€˜Thank you, Ti-Jean. What would I do without you, boy?’
    â€˜Fall in the water.’ The idea always wreathed Ti-Jean’s face in smiles. His laughter coincided with the disapproval of Mother Superior who did not take the chivalrous crutch, but chose instead the arms and shoulders of two of her nursing sisters to hoist herself out of the launch onto the landing stage, then up the steps to the jetty.
    â€˜Ti-Jean, you should be in line for school. Doctor, you encourage this boy,’ Mother Superior said censoriously.
    Ti-Jean lowered his eyes, and then smirked mischievously.
    â€˜I do. I do, Mother. Look how well he is,’ Vincent protested.
    â€˜You know what I mean. You know exactly.’
    â€˜I do. I do, Mother.’
    â€˜You are incorrigible. And who is this boy?’ She looked at Theo.
    â€˜This is the boy that Father Dominic has sent to stay with us.’ Vincent put his hand on Theo’s shoulder. He was not sure what details Mother Superior had had.
    â€˜Oh, yes, I remember. Well, I hope you have him in hand. Let’s hope he can teach Ti-Jean some discipline.’ The two boys eyed each other. ‘And we’ve got a meeting today, Doctor.’
    Ti-Jean was quickly saved from Mother Superior’s admonishments by Sister Thérèse. ‘I’ll see to him, Mother.’
    â€˜Good morning, Sister.’ Vincent had not noticed Sister Thérèse on the launch in the confusion of disembarking and the sudden rain. ‘We’ve got an appointment this morning to take those stitches out.’ Vincent tilted his Panama hat and smiled at the young nun. He could seem a dashing figure in his white shirt, khaki pants, and his Panama, shading his dark brown hair and wide dark brown eyes.
    â€˜Good morning, Doctor Metivier.’ Her dark eyes shone.
    â€˜I hope Sister Luke has been keeping that wound clean and dressed. We don’t want tetanus or septicaemia spiriting you away. We must take the stitches out today.’
    Sister Thérèse looked at Mother Superior as if for permission tospeak, and then answered. ‘Yes, Doctor, once I’ve seen to the children.’
    â€˜Then you’ll see to me? I mean, I’ll see to you.’ Vincent liked to tease the young nursing sisters. He felt that this troubled nun needed some humour in her life. It was also a way for him to get along with the nursing nuns. The doctors always teased the nurses at University College, where he had been a houseman.
    This kind of banter got Vincent a severe, reprimanding stare from under Mother Superior’s eyes, while Sister Thérèse was tugged away by her sleeves into the procession of nursing sisters; she in turn, tugging Ti-Jean along.
    â€˜Sister!’ Vincent called her back. ‘Theo, come, you go with Sister Thérèse and Ti-Jean. Is that okay, Sister?’ Theo was hesitant.
    â€˜Come, Theo.’ Sister Thérèse put out her hand. ‘Let me show you our school.’ The boy relented, looking over his shoulder at Vincent for reassurance.
    â€˜Go along, Theo. I’ll see you later.’
    â€˜You not hear the trouble, Doc?’ Jonah stood by Vincent after tying up the pirogue. ‘You know Singh talking to the people. Singh think he is Uriah Butler. They say he walking barefoot all over the place. Like the Creole, Cipriani, he rousing the people.’ Jonah was alluding to the French Creole and the black labour leader, Butler, who had been imprisoned for inciting riots in thirty-seven down South, on Sancta Trinidad. The riot which had caught like a cane fire had not burned out. He knew that it still caught fire in the mind of Theo at night. It was also burning in the mind and heart of Krishna Singh, the pharmacist.
    Vincent made his way to Mother Superior’s office between the rows of huts which reminded him of the dilapidated