A traditional mas Christmas

Dara E Healy

“Well pardner

For Blue Devil

This Christmas real hard

Even I the Pierrot

Feeling sad.

He blowing fire in a rage

Anger and grief consuming he space

He friends trying to help

So, we will have to see

If this year Blue Devil

Could find any tranquillity.”

WHOOSH! Sean was blowing fire and scaring people as they did their Christmas shopping. The flames shot high into the sky as Sean, in full blue devil masquerade, created havoc in the city. Ms Loretta, a nurse from his village of Paramin, was hustling to work when she recognised him. “Aye, Sean acting up again.” She called Alan, one of the few members of his crew who could get through to him. The blue devils jumped into a van and headed into town.

“Officer, officer we’ll take him home.” Alan and the crew arrived just as a group of police officers on patrol surrounded Sean. “Sean, stop it. Come.” He turned and looked at them with glazed eyes. The police warned Alan that Sean had used up all his chances. The blue devils bundled Sean into the van and sped off back to Paramin.

“Sean, what going on with you? You realise the police nearly lock you up?” Sean stayed silent, grimly staring out the window as the city sped past. Two years ago, Julie his wife and childhood love was taken from him just before Christmas as the result of a brutal home invasion. Then last year, a close friend fell off a ladder while painting his home. Massive heart attack.

Sean’s friends called him Papa Chunks because he was always singing Roaring Lion calypsoes. After the tragedies, Sean sank into a dark place. He forgot about the blue devil code that he and others had worked so hard to establish. Customs like ensuring that proper rituals were followed before putting on the paint. Or understanding that the masquerade recalled the brutality of enslavement and sought to return power to the descendants of this horrible time. Instead, Sean raged.

Eventually, he lost his gift. He was one of the few firebreathers who could blow circles of fire one into the other. According to legend, it was a gift from one of his ancestors.

“Sean. Sean!” Alan and the others decided to try something else. “Me and Bertie and a few others going down south to do a gayap for Charlo.” Sean looked irritated. “Gayap? Wha’s dat?” Bertie jumped in. “It come from the Karinya word

kayapa. It mean everybody coming together to do a good.” Sean sucked his teeth and turned his head. Alan tried again. "Charlo and he wife cooking wild meat.”

Grudgingly, Sean agreed. Along the way, they stopped to get food or greet friends from the blue devil community outside of Paramin. Sean spoke little, surrounded by his sadness. Finally, they got to the house, well what was left of it. Charlo had lost everything in a fire, including one of his children. The gayap was in full swing – who carrying bricks, who cooking, who sweeping. Strangely, Sean immediately got busy, helping to mix concrete.

“I glad you here Sean,” said Alan. Without warning Sean broke down, probably the fi