I took the visitor to Curepe to get doubles near Curepe Junction. He hardly remembered what doubles tasted like and wanted genuine Curepe Doubles. The Junction was its usual chaotic and lawless self where the regulars were not bothered because they knew how to adapt to the environment of the Junction to survive. The visitor asked if the drivers at the junction “still fraid police more than God.” I knew where he was coming from but I pretended I didn’t and allowed him to explain. The visitor said that all these drivers would say they are afraid of God and that God is everywhere but yet they would break the law and inconvenience everyone for their selfish needs as if there was no God looking. “Aren’t they afraid that God would send them to a Hell worse than Curepe Junction?” He went on to say if one scrawny policeman came to the junction peace and order would be restored instantly. “Why is that?” the visitor asked. I didn’t have an answer and simply accepted the fact that people believed God was everywhere except Curepe Junction.
We left The Junction with my thoughts too deep for a “doubles morning” but the visitor had a knack for derailing your thoughts. On the way back home we drove pass a house where an old woman was beaten to death by an intruder less than a year ago. I eagerly pointed out the house as if it was a tourist attraction. The visitor said it was a pity and wondered why God didn’t intervene to save the old woman. I said because the house was probably too close to the Junction. He didn’t laugh and I regretted what I had said. We were both silent until we got home and the bottom of the brown paper bag carrying the doubles gave way causing all the doubles to splatter on the driveway and my shoe. It was the perfect end to the morning and, I suppose, God’s will.