The Search for a Skinny Vest: A Teenager’s Dilemma

Denzil is a teenager who wants to smoke with his friends but can’t find his skinny vest, which he considers his lucky charm. He searches his room, asks his mother, and even checks the clothes rack, but to no avail. He decides to wear a yellow t-shirt and denim pants instead, hoping they won’t ruin his mood. He sneaks out of his house, avoiding his grandmother and other relatives, and joins his friends near the church. Will he be able to enjoy his evening without his skinny vest? Find out in this short story that explores the challenges of growing up in a conservative society.

Denzil turned away from the window and surveyed his room, which he had mostly to himself. The warm glow of early evening still hung in the air, but the light from the sunset had shifted through the window grills and into his private space. As he looked around, he couldn’t help but think of Ruth. He tried to push her out of his mind, but it was impossible. He walked over to his desk and gazed at his journal and art book. His vest was nowhere to be found on the clothes rack, so he hesitated momentarily before calling his mother. He hoped she had taken it for a wash and would find it for him before he left home to hang out with his friends.

Denzil walked out of his room in his undies and met his grandmother sitting in a chair in the living room. “What are you looking for?” she asked. “My skinnies, I cannot find them,” Denzil replied. “Maybe your mother has washed them. Did you check your clothes rack? Maybe they’re still there in your room. Check under your clothes.”

Denzil’s grandmother was not easily perturbed by the mundane, but Denzil was anxious to find his skinny vest. He was worried he might be late to meet his friends and miss out on a chance to smoke with them. After rummaging through his clothes rack, he found a yellow t-shirt that didn’t match his black bell-bottom pants. He retreated from the door and changed into denim pants. As he stepped out of his room, he heard the sound of conversations outside and peered through the window to check but found no one. He also peeped through the keyhole in case some relatives had come. Denzil was running late and didn’t want to engage in small talk. He thought about how he could get out of this situation. When he stepped out of his room, he saw with relief that the verandah was empty of those people who made sounds. It was relatively bright outside, and he left the house within seconds. Before anyone could call him out, he started with quick, determined strides.

As Denzil passed neighbouring houses, men returned home on foot and bicycles after work. He crossed the road and joined his friends near the church.

It was smoke time. They shared the smokes, as they did with everything else. It was their time to puff, twelve cents a Bristol ciggy.