Kingston Kidnappings (What Happens In Vegas Book 3) by Matt Lincoln (classic books for 10 year olds txt) 📕

my family. Not my parents, obviously, since they weren’t even on this island, and I wouldn’t have wanted to see them even if they were, but perhaps some of my cousins. I’d cut all contact with everyone the day I ran away, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss some of my family.

I could invite Charlie to come with me as well. He’d mentioned something on the plane about getting a souvenir for his niece, Amber. I could show him around Kingston and help him pick something out, and then we could stop by one of my cousin’s homes for a quick visit. I was a little ashamed to admit it, but I’d honestly feel more comfortable having Charlie come with me. If nothing else, it would give me a convenient excuse to leave if things got to be too much.

With that in mind, I left my hotel room and knocked on Charlie’s door, directly across the hall from mine.

“Yes?” he answered as he opened the door.

“Did you have any concrete plans for the day?” I asked. “Before tonight’s mission, I mean?”

“Not really,” Charlie shrugged.

“How would you like a tour of Kingston?” I asked. “I was thinking of taking advantage of the free time we have to have a look around at my old haunts. I thought you might want to come along as well.”

“Sure,” Charlie shrugged after taking a few moments to mull it over. “Don’t have anything else to do.”

“Well, don’t sound so excited about it,” I remarked sarcastically.

Charlie just chuckled in response.

“Sorry,” he smiled sheepishly. “Did you have anywhere specific in mind?”

“Actually,” I replied as we walked down the hallway. “I thought I might show you around the street markets. You mentioned wanting to get something for your niece, right? The markets have a lot of traditional and handmade things. Anything you find there is bound to be nicer than something mass-produced from one of the more touristy shops.”

“Sounds fun,” Charlie responded, though he didn’t sound particularly enthusiastic. I’d heard both Miranda and Junior poke fun at how uninterested he tended to be about exploring while he was on missions, and I could see now what they meant. Still, he’d agreed to come with me, so perhaps he was starting to enjoy sight-seeing a little more.

The hotel was located in the center of Kingston, surrounded by beautiful, huge, colonial-inspired buildings. One of the most peculiar and entrancing aspects of Kingston, Jamaica was the fact that the architecture of the city changed dramatically and suddenly from one area to the next. You could stand in the city square surrounded by massive marble buildings, and just a few steps away, you’d be in a residential area consisting of cramped, colorful apartment buildings and shacks. Just a few more steps, and you’d be in a bustling business center full of restaurants and offices. It was a cornucopia of difference that was at once bewildering and splendid.

Now that we were on the street, however, I wasn’t sure where we should go. It had been a decade since I’d been in Kingston, and although muscle memory had kicked in enough that I had a vague notion of where everything was, there was no doubt things had changed in the time I’d been gone. If we were looking for a gift for a little girl, something like a toy would be the best bet.

Ideally, I would have liked to show Charlie around the Craft Market in Montego Bay. That market was enormous, and he’d surely be able to find something for her there. Unfortunately, Montego Bay was about two hundred kilometers away on the other side of Jamaica, and it would probably take us the better part of three hours just to get there. That surely wouldn’t leave us enough time to look around properly before we’d need to start heading back for the mission.

The next logical choice might be the Coronation Market, which was one of the largest street markets here in Kingston. It was huge, spanning several acres and constantly crowded with both locals and tourists. However, while the Coronation Market was a sight to behold and an experience that I would recommend Charlie have if we had the time later, the majority of the market consisted of foods, textiles, and other common household goods. It was unlikely that we would find a suitable gift for his niece there.

“Let’s head down to Orange Street,” I suggested finally, before taking off in that direction.

“Okay,” Charlie agreed with a noncommittal shrug as he followed me down a wide street lined with colorful, if somewhat dilapidated-looking, buildings. “What do they have there?”

“A little of everything,” I answered. “I thought about heading to one of the bigger covered markets, but I’m not sure we’ll find what you’re looking for there. Orange Street is a little less organized. Most of the people in that area just set up stalls out in the open, rather than having a specific covered building to do it in. We can pass through the Parade on the way there.”

“What’s the Parade?” Charlie asked as he glanced around at all the makeshift stalls set up along the street.

“It’s the colloquial name for William Grant Park,” I explained. “Vendors set up stalls in South Parade. Or sometimes they just lay their wares out on the ground. It’s actually known as ‘Ben Dung Plaza’ because of that. People have to ‘bend down’ to look at the things the vendors are selling.”

“I noticed that earlier,” Charlie remarked curiously.

“Noticed what?” I asked.

“Some words in Patois sound a lot like English,” he responded. “Like ‘ben dung’ and ‘bend down.’ And I noticed that a lot of the people here seem to speak pretty good English.”

“English is Jamaica’s official language,” I informed him. “That’s one of the reasons it’s so popular as a tourist destination. There’s really not a language barrier unless you visit some more remote areas. Patois is really just a Jamaican dialect of English, with a few other languages mixed in. It’s