:+:+: Chinaman John :+:+:
Its been retold by folks who heard
The night was dark when this tale occured
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Two young men filled with liquid fire
Met as friends dressed in causal attire
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To win the lottery was their only desires
They planned to be wealthy when they retire
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They visited a soothsayer, a vodoo witch
In the darkness of night without a hitch
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She told them the secret of awaking the dead
They tried very hard to remember all she said
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Their memories were touched by rum in their veins
The amount they both drank affected their brains
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"The only way is" the witch said, "At the midnight hour
My spell will make the dead fall beneath your power"
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Trembling together they consented to do the deed
The thoughts of much richness fed their greed
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On that night they at last found a grave
They huddled together trying to be brave
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A thick mist appeared suddenly all around
The drizzling rain masked every other sound
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They lighted two lanterns with shaky hands
Falling to their knees they could not stand
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In squeaky voices they started to chant
One of them whispered,"Suppose he can't?"
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A white smoke then seeped from within the tomb
A deep voice inquired, "want to meet your doom?"
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With all his strength the first man replied
"We came to speak with our friend John"
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His heart nearly failed and his mind shouted, run!
He whispered, "Hey, man, this ain't no fun!"
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"John?"
Which John?" the voice said,"I am Chinaman John"
"I think you have awoken the wrong one"
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It was at that instance the lanterns went out
The two cowered men commenced to shout
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They ran screaming all the way into town
Two madmen ran and they both fell down
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Inside their rooms they hid in fear
They heard a knock on the door very clear
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"Let us in!" two voices demanded
we are your shadows, you forgot us out here!"
copyright©2007Irene
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Note:
A tale taken from the folklores of Belize, Central America
Original story narrated in the "Kriole" dialect by the great storyteller
The late George McKieze of Belize.
Rewritten in poetry form for your enjoyment by G. Irene B.
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