Junior was in trouble, in every way.
Firstly, he’d cheated on his girlfriend and gotten Ina pregnant and she’d given birth to his son.
So he had that drama going on.
Secondly, he’d been arrested and charged for illegal possession of a firearm and shooting with intent, busted the case, and now the cops were after him for murder.
He’d left Bull Bay and went to Yallahs where he knew a man who knew about the ganja trade, and could help him.
He didn’t have much money, so the guy took what he had, took his Clarke shoes and later that night, wearing a mashed up sandal, was in the dark field.
Someone blew the abeng and he, and the others lit bottle torches and raised them above their heads and they heard the plane land between the rows.
Junior would guess there were fifty men on each side.
When the plane landed and turned, someone threw thick plastic over the seat, and he and others began loading the crocus bags of ganja.
They moved them around so there would be space enough for four men to ride with the weed.
The door closed, the plane took off.
Junior was on his way to America.