<div class="floatleft"><div align="center">(http://www.mediafire.com/convkey/132c/qanv0vlare944wbzg.jpg)<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;"><strong>Jaclyn Rosendahl</strong></span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;">Entrepreneur<br/><em>About Jaclyn</em> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=289408.msg14241614#msg14241614)<br/> ‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾ </span></span></div></div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>… bac in our cells, sit and wait … what problem can I work on with no tools? … review my insomnia list for my business … things I refuse to let worry me outside of work hours, let alone keep me awake at night … ah, the Basseterre, St Kitt situation with the local restaurant and bar owners … how to make this a win-win … review each of their properties … what I know and don’t of the local police … no more or less corrupt than elsewhere around the region … we all pay protection and it isn’t onerous … but it is protection with no service … can we get real service in terms of improved security from marauding beggar youth? … or is it better to work with the youth? … fixing a culture to improve a business situation … but that’s what my business has been, rescuing local women from their situation by employing and empowering them and our guests all seem to enjoy the product we provide … I’ll need to get down there and have a chat with two or three of the local owners … explain what I have in mind and consider how to approach the police or the youth or both or maybe some other way … always can be another way …<br/><br/>… brought out of my reverie by a guard at the door to my cell … unlocking the door … “come with me, Miss” … she doesn’t cuff my hands … leads me to a door and knocks … it opens … she steps through, beckons me to follow … look around … Peter and Jekesai! …</em></span></span><br/><br/>‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾<br/><div class="floatright"><div align="center">(http://www.mediafire.com/convkey/cc45/8990emmy5sim49izg.jpg)<br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;"><strong>Jekesai</strong><br/><em>Guide</em><br/> ‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾ </span></div></div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><em>When the tiny one emerges in her prison garb, I walk over to her and hand her the Visa.</em><br/><br/>  “Your missing papers, Miss.”<br/><br/><em>Turn to the guard.</em><br/><br/>  “Please fetch her clothing. Dikembe is dropping charges.”<br/><br/><em>She’s momentarily startled but so used to being told what to do, she goes over to the counter and relay’s the message. A packet is handed over. I carry that back to the tiny one.</em><br/><br/>  “Please use that restroom to change. Say nothing about anything that might be missing from your purse. We’re touch and go here so please be quick”</span></span><br/><br/>‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>… a Visa is thrust into my hands … look to Peter … he seems satisfied to allow Jekesai to handle this … she hands me my clothes and purse … in the restroom, I change back into my own clothes and do a quick inventory of my purse … passport and phone both there … sigh of relief … then back out to drop the prison clothing on a chair …</em></span></span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">  “Can we get out of here please?”</span></span><br/>