V. Naipaul - Miguel Street

Titus Hoyt said, ‘No, man. We just can’t have all you boys talking about pictures all the time. I will have to get some propaganda for you boys.’

Boyee said, ‘Mr Titus Hoyt, what we want with propaganda? Is a German thing.’

Titus Hoyt smiled. ‘That is not the proper meaning of the word, boy. I am using the word in it proper meaning. Is education, boy, that make me know things like that.’

Boyee was sent as our delegate to the Youth Association annual conference.

When he came back Boyee said, ‘Is a helluva thing at that youth conference. Is only a pack of old, old people it have there.’

The attraction of the Coca-Cola and the cakes and the ice-cream began to fade. Some of us began staying away from meetings.

Titus Hoyt made one last effort to keep the club together.

One day he said, ‘Next Sunday the club will go on a visit to Fort George.’

There were cries of disapproval.

Titus Hoyt said, ‘You see, you people don’t care about your country. How many of you know about Fort George? Not one of you here know about the place. But is history, man, your history, and you must learn about things like that. You must remember that the boys and girls of today are the men and women of tomorrow. The old Romans had a saying, you know. Mens sana in corpore sano. I think we will make the walk to Fort George.’

Still no one wanted to go.

Titus Hoyt said, ‘At the top of Fort George it have a stream, and it cool cool and the water crystal clear. You could bathe there when we get to the top.’

We couldn’t resist that.

The next Sunday a whole group of us took the trolleybus to Mucurapo.

When the conductor came round to collect the fares, Titus Hoyt said, ‘Come back a little later.’ And he paid the conductor only when we got off the bus. The fare for everybody came up to about two shillings. But Titus Hoyt gave the conductor a shilling, saying, ‘We don’t want any ticket, man!’ The conductor and Titus Hoyt laughed.

It was a long walk up the hill, red and dusty, and hot.

Titus Hoyt told us, ‘This fort was built at a time when the French and them was planning to invade Trinidad.’

We gasped.

We had never realised that anyone considered us so important.

Titus Hoyt said, ‘That was in 1803, when we was fighting Napoleon.’

We saw a few old rusty guns at the side of the path and heaps of rusty cannon-balls.

I asked, ‘The French invade Trinidad, Mr Titus Hoyt?’

Titus Hoyt shook his head in a disappointed way. ‘No, they didn’t attack. But we was ready, man. Ready for them.’

Boyee said, ‘You sure it have this stream up there you tell us about, Mr Titus Hoyt?’

Titus Hoyt said, ‘What you think I is? A liar?’

Boyee said, ‘I ain’t saying nothing.’

We walked and sweated. Boyee took off his shoes.

Errol said, ‘If it ain’t have that stream up there, somebody going to catch hell.’

We got to the top, had a quick look at the graveyard where there were a few tombstones of British soldiers dead long ago; and we looked through the telescope at the city of Port of Spain, large and sprawling beneath us. We could see the people walking in the streets as large as life.

Then we went looking for the stream.

We couldn’t find it.

Titus Hoyt said, ‘It must be here somewhere. When I was a boy I use to bathe in it.’

Boyee said, ‘And what happen now? It dry up?’

Titus Hoyt said, ‘It look so.’

Boyee got really mad, and you couldn’t blame him. It was hard work coming up that hill, and we were all hot and thirsty.

He insulted Titus Hoyt in a very crude way.

Titus Hoyt said, ‘Remember, Boyee, you are the secretary of the Miguel Street Literary and Social Club. Remember that you have just attended a meeting of the Youth Association as our delegate. Remember these things.’

Boyee said, ‘Go to hell, Hoyt.’

We were aghast.

So the Literary Club broke up.

It wasn’t long after that Titus Hoyt got his Inter Arts degree and set up a school of his own. He had a big sign placed in his garden:

TITUS HOYT. I.A. (London, External)

Passes in the Cambridge

School Certificate Guaranteed

One year the Guardian had a brilliant idea. They started the Needy Cases Fund to help needy cases at Christmas. It was popular and after a few years was called The Neediest Cases Fund. At the beginning of November the Guardian announced the target for the fund and it was a daily excitement until Christmas Eve to see how the fund rose. It was always front page news and everybody who gave got his name in the papers.

In the middle of December one year, when the excitement was high, Miguel Street was in the news.

Hat showed us the paper and we read:

FOLLOW THE EXAMPLE OF THIS TINYMITE!

“The smallest and most touching response to our appeal to bring Yuletide cheer to the unfortunate has come in a letter from Mr Titus Hoyt, I.A., a headmaster of Miguel Street, Port of Spain. The letter was sent to Mr Hoyt by one of his pupils who wishes to remain anonymous. We have Mr Hoyt’s permission to print the letter in full.

‘Dear Mr Hoyt, I am only eight and, as you doubtless know, I am a member of the GUARDIAN Tinymites League. I read Aunt Juanita every Sunday. You, dear Mr Hoyt, have always extolled the virtue of charity and you have spoken repeatedly of the fine work the GUARDIAN Neediest Cases Fund is doing to bring Yuletide cheer to the unfortunate. I have decided to yield to your earnest entreaty. I have very little money to offer-a mere six cents, in fact, but take it, Mr Hoyt, and send it to the GUARDIAN Neediest Cases Fund. May it bring Yuletide cheer to some poor unfortunate! I know it is not much. But, like the widow, I give my mite. I remain, dear Mr Hoyt, One of Your Pupils.’

And there was a large photograph of Titus Hoyt, smiling and pop-eyed in the flash of the camera.

I suppose Laura holds a world record.

Laura had eight children.

There is nothing surprising in that.

These eight children had seven fathers.

Beat that!

It was Laura who gave me my first lesson in biology. She lived just next door to us, and I found myself observing her closely.

I would notice her belly rising for months.

Then I would miss her for a short time.

And the next time I saw her she would be quite flat.

And the leavening process would begin again in a few months.

To me this was one of the wonders of the world in which I lived, and I always observed Laura. She herself was quite gay about what was happening to her. She used to point to it and say, ‘This thing happening again, but you get use to it after the first three four times. Is a damn nuisance, though.’

She used to blame God, and speak about the wickedness of men.

For her first six children she tried six different men.

Hat used to say, ‘Some people hard to please.’

But I don’t want to give you the impression that Laura spent all her time having babies and decrying men, and generally feeling sorry for herself. If Bogart was the most bored person in the street, Laura was the most vivacious. She was always gay, and she liked me.

She would give me plums and mangoes when she had them; and whenever she made sugar-cakes she would give me some.

Even my mother, who had a great dislike of laughter, especially in me, even my mother used to laugh at Laura.

She often said to me, ‘I don’t know why Laura muching you up so for. Like she ain’t have enough children to mind.’

I think my mother was right. I don’t think a woman like Laura could have ever had too many children. She loved all her children, though you wouldn’t have believed it from the language she used when she spoke to them. Some of Laura’s shouts and curses were the richest things I have ever heard, and I shall never forget them.