The most 'happening' spot in Cross Keys, Manchester. - PHOTOs by Ian Allen/Staff Photographer

Now by my estimation, Cross Keys in Manchester is just about the most happening place you can find in that side of the world. You see, it's really hidden high in the hills, close to a place called Grove Town and is the only place that I came across, while in the area recently, that showed any sign of activity.

Perhaps it was because it was close to midday and everyone had left their communities for work, but I didn't see anyone around for what seemed like an hour of driving. Finally, like a precious oasis in the desert, I stumbled upon Cross Keys, where activity was bubbling in the town square.

The Square

Now the square is made up of a small petrol station, an even smaller mechanic shop, a nice-looking little house, and of course, the heart of the entire operation, the bar.

But this is no ordinary bar. This is where everyone who's not confined to more time-consuming daily activities, spends his or her days.

It was here that I met one Constantine Chisolm, a retired shoemaker with an eye for young girls and a voice that belongs on the radio. It was coming up to the draw time for a popular lottery game and Constantine, a wiry fellow with receding hairline, hustled into the bar.

"Oy! Change di station! Draw time now," he shouted.

The barmaid, who seemed awfully young, gave no response. There was a handful of younger men already in the bar, one of whom whispered to Constantine that the lottery draw was not for another hour.

Constantine glanced at his wrist, though he wasn't wearing a watch, and said: "OK, ah true," he then sauntered out.

I went after him and said hello.

"Good how-de-do," said he.

I asked him if he was from the community.

"Not really, mi is from just before yuh reach Grove Town, but mi frequent di area," he replied.

It was while he was speaking with me, about 20 feet from the entrance to the bar, that I realised the spectacular view of Manchester that you get from where we were standing. You could see forever. I had not realised just how high we were until I saw the view of the surrounding areas.

It seems Constantine noticed my fascination.

"It pretty fi true," he said, as if reading my mind.

"When mi was a lilly pickney mi used to love fi come ah Cross Keys come look down pan di place. All Granny ah call, mi nuh response, for mi haffi come yah come cool out. Sometime mi reach in and supper cold and Granny cross, but mi nuh care," said he, smiling.

I asked him how many people he reckoned lived in Cross Keys.

"Well, it hard to figure out still, for yuh have a lot of go-and-come. But mi would guess seh is about 400," he said, holding up four fingers.

I asked him about the bar that we both had just exited.

Cool out

A schoolboy making his way out of the Cross Keys square. The very popular bar is in the background.

"Is a likkle place weh di young child dem come cool out. You have some carpenter shop and some farmer inna di area, so when dem ready fi a drink, dem just walk come over fi cool out," he said.

"Most time when yuh come ah Cross Keys, and yuh ah look fi somebady, it nuh meck nuh sense yuh go anywhere else. Just come ah di bar. If yuh nuh find him, den yuh will find somebody who can send go call him," Constantine chuckled.

"Ah nuh everybody yuh see bout di place drink liquor, but dem come here because everywhere else too quiet," he said.

While he was speaking, I noticed that Constantine was still holding what looked like lottery tickets. I asked him about them.

"Yeah, man! Mi haffi try mi luck. Mi nephew dream mi last night, and when mi wake up dis morning, di first smaddy mi see is a black, black man. So mi just come buy dem numba deh," he said, putting the tickets in his shirt pocket.

I asked him what number that was.

"Mi sorry sar, but mi can't tell yuh, far if mi talk bout it too loud, everybody ah go buy it," said he.

That seemed fair enough, so I pressed him no further. Constantine told me he was on his way to see a lady friend who lived a few houses down the road, so I bade him goodbye and watched him hobble down the hill.

'Hello, Sar!'

Just then, a stocky, middle-age fellow who had been standing at the petrol station just across the road all this time ran over to me.

"Hello, Sar!" he said, catching me off-guard. "Yuh can please to tell mi what number Bredda Chisolm tell yuh seh him buy?" the man asked.

I felt happy that I was able to honestly tell him that I did not know, but the man was not satisfied.

"Bredrin, just forward up di likkle number," he said.

I reiterated that I did not know what number the elderly man had bet on. The stocky fellow gave me a look I will not soon forget, then returned to his post at the petrol station, all the while eyeing me like a hawk.

"Cho, nuh pay Lenroy nuh mind!" I heard someone shout.

I turned around to see an attractive 40-something woman walking up the hill.

"Him too red yeye. Everything him see people wid, him want," she said.

When she got closer, I introduced myself. She gave her name as Dorothy and told me that she lived nearby.

I asked her about the community.

"Cross Keys is a nice place, man. Mi used to live inna Mile Gully, but mi move up here about three month now. Is a nice place. Nothing like crime or anything. Fi di most part, di people live good, just some bad-mind, but nothing serious. As yuh can see, the view is very lookable. Yes, man, we all right up here in Cross Keys, nothing too cross about we at all!" Dorothy laughed.

robert.lalah@gleanerjm.com