The Highflyers-excerpt from a short story by Austin Mitchell

The Highflyers

a short story

by Austin Mitchell

             I knew Tony Dillow. That was when we lived in Allman Town on a road called Gresham Road. Tony had a car, I believed it was a Morris Oxford motor car. Tony was a taxi driver and sometimes coming home from the movies at the Carib Cinema I would take his taxi home.

            Tony had a sister, Charmaine, and my friend, Bobby Chew used to be friendly with her. I was at a café on Port Royal Street when I spotted this waitress and sure enough it was her. There were quite a few cafes and bars dotting the waterfront going all the way up to Slipe Road and all the way across to Rae Town and to Marcus Garvey Drive. Kingston had really changed. There were so many vehicles on the streets and people were moving freely about. At this time of night seven years ago you would only find a fraction of the population now on the streets.

            I ordered a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll.  The café was a small one. I was parked on the other side of the street from the cafe. The waitress brought my order and it was Charmaine. She was a tall girl in her late twenties and was coffee colored.

            “Hi, Charmaine, remember me, Danny Walters.”

            For a moment, she looked me over without a sign of recognition. Then suddenly she shouted.

            “Danny Walters, I can’t believe it. It’s been so long.”

            “Charmaine, I want to talk to you. I want to link up with Tony.”

            She looked a bit frightened when I mentioned Tony’s name.

            “I can’t talk to you now, Danny. Maybe later or you can give me your cell phone number so that I can call you.”

            I gave her my cell phone number and took hers before she left me to continue her work.

            I was staying at the Hill View Hotel on Upper Orange Street. It was a small hotel and I could have gone to others Uptown but I had chosen it because of the view it offered.

            After I finished my cinnamon roll and had my coffee, I returned to my car and decided to go over to Port Royal and pick up Avrill Jones, my steady girlfriend these days.

            We went to a bar on East Queen Street. It was owned by a fat man, Max Deslandes.

            I ordered a gin and tonic and a Canei for Avrill.

            “So how is it going, Danny, sold any records yet?” Max asked as he served us our drinks.

            “I’m still looking for a producer. Know anybody I can trust?” I asked him.

            “How about Tony Dillow? He has one of the biggest studios on the island.”

            “I’ve heard about him, can’t say what I’ve heard is favorable.”

            I didn’t want anybody to know that I knew Tony.

            “He controls a lot of artists, plus hits by his artist dominate the charts.”

            “I’ll look him up and give him a call. Maybe we can do a deal.”

            “You do that, Danny. I don’t think he can try any of his tricks with a guy like you.”

            “He’d better not try, Max.”

            Max went back to serving his other customers and I and Avrill had some more drinks before leaving to go to the Emerald Night Club in New Kingston.

            We left the Emerald about one thirty that morning and I dropped Avrill home before returning to the Hill View.

            I was disappointed that Charmaine hadn’t called me. I decided that I would call her in the morning. I had spent seven years in England before they got me out of the country for overstaying my time. My friends had always been encouraging me to get married and get my stay. Maybe I’d been through too many women before I met Janey Upshaw, the only one of them I felt like marrying. But I had met her two months before I was sent packing.

            We still called each other, but I just didn’t feel like returning. I didn’t feel like living as a second class citizen any longer. Since I’d returned to Jamaica and seen the changes to the downtown Kingston landscape I just didn’t feel like migrating again.
Read the full story is in my book 'Going to the bush to cut Firewood' or in 'Days up the River'.