Paul H. Williams, Gleaner Writer

In August, a delivery man named Jasper stole my laptop. After several weeks of anxiety and anger, Jasper called to say where the computer was. But the attempts to retrieve it were not so easy, for the story took on many twists and turns.

In part one of the story, published last week, we stopped at the juncture where I lay in bed on Monday night, October 1, waiting for a certain police officer to call to tell me the status of the computer. He did call, and it was one big relief when he said the computer was safe. However, he said he was not able to get it to me until the following day. I was relieved, but still very anxious.

The anxiet the Tuesday. It turned out that because of a clash of work schedules we could not meet. We decided to meet the Wednesday evening. I asked the police officer whether he had the computer adapter also; he said no. He hadn't got it. Then where was it? Only Jasper and Tina could tell.

'Tina having a baby'

Tina is the young woman to whom Jasper attempted to sell the laptop. But, when I had called her previously, a woman who answered her phone claimed she was Tina's sister and that Tina was "in hospital having baby". Each time I spoke with her, she promised to contact Tina and get back to me. She never did.

Wednesday morning. I called Tina's phone, anticipating to be given the run-around again. Surprise, surprise; it was Tina herself who answered saying how much Jasper nearly put her in trouble, and that the adapter was, in fact, in her possession. While I was making arrangements for her to get it to me, she put me on to Jasper, the thief, who was right there beside her. I told him to take my adapter to me. He agreed, reluctantly.

I had spoken with him several times, from the Friday night he first called me, trying to get his story. For every thief has a story, and more than anything else, I wanted to know why he decided to interrupt my life. I wasn't looking for any logical or reasoned explanation. I wasn't looking for anything in particular, for that matter. But, before I pressed charges, I wanted to know what was going on in his head.

When he appeared on his bicycle, he was a wreck. He gave me the adapter and told me sorry, with a nervous grin. I looked at him, bit my bottom lip hard, and told him to meet me in Cross Roads, hoping that he wouldn't disappear.

When I reached the agreed spot, he wasn't there. I called him. He said he was minutes away. He arrived sweating. I bought him some refreshment, took out my tape recorder and told him to tell me what happened, and how he came to be having 'problems' with his fingers, as he had confessed in an earlier phone conversation.

He told his story, and I listened, interrupting from time to time to ask clarifying questions. I looked at him while I listened, analysing, synthesising and evaluating what he was saying, and I saw a young man with a troubled past. It turned out that it started right there in his home.

Hard life

Born in a volatile inner-city community, his father left his "miserable" mother and him, when he was only three. The man went to 'plant' his seeds all over the Corporate Area, forgetting that he had a seedling who needed his attention. Jasper claimed his mother was controlling and demanding, and he wanted his freedom. So, at a very young age, with introduction from some acquaintances, he hit the streets where there were friendship, freedom and food. But, there was also the Family Court.

Being a minor and a truant, he was brought before the courts several times and sent to several places of safety. However, he went back to the streets several times to escape the physical and mental abuse at the hands of staff and other inmates. Being a quiet child, he said he was preyed upon by the older boys, beaten and taunted, and robbed of his meals.

He recalled the nights when he would study in bushes, with the glow emitted by trapped peenie wallies in a bottle being only source of light, just to avoid the badgering. One night when he could not take it anymore, he left the boys' home in Clarendon and walked all the way back to Kingston, in only a pair of shorts. When he reached home, his mom attempted to the take him back, but he ran away, again.

His main problem

Over the years, he attended two training institutions, did odd jobs, none with a substantial income. He, for most of his life, had nothing for himself. Right now, a decrepit pair of canvas shoes and one pair of jeans are all that he owns. He lost the last job he had because of theft. Therein lies his problem.

He said he had problems with keeping his fingers to himself and was possessed with the uncontrollable desire to steal food and cellphones. A life of deprivation made him believe that what belonged to others also belonged to him. So, he simply went around and took what he didn't have.

The evening when he stole the laptop he said he could have left it, but there was something telling him to do it. He resisted and resisted, but there was no way he could have left it. When he left the apartment he ran and jumped on to his bicycle and rode as if there were no tomorrow.

A chain of activities took place while I was mourning my loss. Different versions of which came from Jasper, Tina, and the police officer. But, it was Tina who took the laptop to the police. Cory did not. She wanted to return it to Cory, but the police confiscated it, and launched an investigation, though there was no complainant.

Change of heart

But why did Jasper call me? Guilt, conscience, and the Church. That's what he claimed. According to him, he is now attending church and is trying to change his life. He's in the process of getting a job; he showed me the documents. He said he cared about his future and his existence, but there was something eating away at his mind.

Is his story true? I don't know. What I do know is that if he had got the money for the computer, he wouldn't have called me. Yet, I believe there is redemption for him, and that's why I decided not to press charges. He is reasonably intelligent, well spoken, surprisingly; as he didn't go beyond grade nine. He might prove me wrong. Time will tell.

At the end of the interview, he said he was happy I spoke with him and did not harm him, and that he wouldn't have been completely satisfied until I got the computer in my hands. He asked me to call him as soon as I did.

Wednesday evening. The meeting with Constable Matthews did not materialise. He called me and I told him why. We finally met the Thursday night, and after presenting my documents to prove that I was the owner, he handed me my laptop. It was joy, but restrained. I was yet to see whether it was working. I thanked him profusely, and with bated breath went home to see whether I had come to the end of my trial. And, I had. I messed around with the instrument all night.

It's over a month now and I have gone back to writing my stories in the comfort of my bed Jasper had sold my USB drive for $250 to buy 'box food'. I would like to thank Detective Constable Matthews of the New Kingston CIB for making sure that the computer was returned safely to me. Constable, if you are reading this article, I thank you very much. All the best.

paulwilliams@gleanerjm.com