Back in St. John this morning, I run into Ghost at the Post Office. He tells me that he wants to show me a small graveyard that he discovered hidden in the bush.
It’s right above Grande Bay on a road that’s on a property owned by a friend of mine. She’s there when we drive up. She acts kind of strange, but I take some photos and leave.
Then the Ghost karma hits me. On St. John, and I imagine anywhere else, people either love Ghost or hate him. Turns out that my friend is one of the latter. I get a phone call soon after I leave for home about Ghost being there and her not wanting him to be and I try to explain that I’m really an innocent bystander, but it looks bad.
Small town life can be really rewarding at times, but sometimes it can be complicated…
(The Ghost, aka Curtney Chinnery, is a performance poet, fairly well known on the streets of Cruz Bay.)
The photo on the right shows Ghost handling a prickly pear cactus. He immediately gets spines in his hands, which reminds me of another time with Ghost and the prickly pear.