keeps

“Keeps”

In 1987 I was seventeen, and turned eighteen in the middle of the year. Early on in the year I started to roam the streets, mostly in search of places that I could buy grass. There was a lot of bad feeling between black and white people in those days, and I was advised by some black people to rather buy my grass from colored dealers at a nearby country club.

The place was about 10km from my home, with the old road, and I was accompanied there the first time by black youngster who introduced me to the ring-leader. His name was ‘Keeps’, because he said, he played for keeps. (They were all gamblers of sorts, and played the horses regularly.) They were a small group of colored men, and they had names such as Tom, Lucky, The Boss, and of course Keeps.

I got to know them very well, and spent a lot of my free time with them at the country club. Once or twice I very nearly got bust like this, and was even picked up once during a big tournament at the course, and was taken in to the local police station. A high-ranking officer with a bit of savvy, soon let me go again. I immediately went back and bought the grass I came for. (That day I was traveling on a bicycle.)

So I spent my time and got to know these men of this little group very well. They in turn knew me very well too. A lot of young boys my age acquired there grass in a similar way. Everyone new Keeps and his lads, and bought from them. However, I was probably their most frequent visitor at the time.

We often went to Raborich, a part of a nearby township, to buy ‘arms’ of grass. If you had transport handy, as I usually did, Keeps would quickly convince you to take him to Raborich, so that he could buy grass to stock up, and you could buy for yourself. (He did the buying.) It was always a risky undertaking in those days, but we were reckless youngsters, and always got a big thrill out of one of these ‘missions’ to acquire grass.

At the end of the year I was preparing to leave for the Infantry, and went to say good-bye to them early one morning. I have only seen old Keeps, or one of his mates, a few times over the last twenty years. You might say we lost contact after ’87. I saw him about two years ago at the same place, and he was still at it. He had grown much older, because he was not a young man even back in those days.

And now, how well I remember those days of Keeps, me and the boys, smoking grass through bottle-necks in the bush, always keeping out an eye for the cops in their ‘Mellow-Yellow’ vans.

It was a life-time ago, and I was truly young then…

The End.

Copyright – JP Brown – 19/06/2007.