First published: Fall 1997
His babies were naked. One started pissing – he cups his hands, catches it, and wipes it on his face. Then he laughs and says, 'It's good for the skin.'
The year was 1975 and my companion Peter, a Rastafarian fisherman, was talking about Leonard Daley, also known as Mr. D, a peculiar wise man he frequently visited in his native Jamaica.
Fifteen years later, we were driving into Mr. D's world, to his house in the mountain hamlet of Fiddlers Hall, two hours outside Kingston.