Peter Minshall in 1986
Mark Lyndersay

It is the last Sunday in January, less than a month before Carnival 2006. At the headquarters of the Callaloo Company — in a World War Two-era hangar in Chaguaramas, some miles west of Port of Spain — people are milling about, an expectant buzz filling the airy space.

The centre of attention is a man with a white stubbly beard, dressed all in black and wearing a black fedora. Peter Minshall has summoned his lieutenants, the Callaloo faithful, to make a major announcement.

Minshall’s last Carnival band, Ship of Fools, appeared in 2003. For two years, adrift in sequins and beads and bikinis, Carnival has been bereft of Minshall, of the drama and the artistic seriousness that characterise every Minshall mas. But for weeks now, rumours of Minshall’s return have been flying. Yesterday the Trinidad Guardian ran a report saying it was true. Today the front page of the Sunday Express declares: “Minshall coming with ‘The Sacred Heart’ for Carnival”.

Son of Saga Boy, king of the 2006 band The Sacred Heart
Mark Lyndersay

Here at the Callaloo Company, the mastermind is unfolding the plot to the men and women who will have to bring it to life, who will spend the next four weeks working backbreaking hours to have the band ready for Carnival. He sketches the outline: a band of nine hundred “sexy urban samurai warriors, cowboys and -girls”, in blue denim and black chaps and ornate metal helmets, each wearing over his or her chest a red fist-size heart. “Bad” hearts versus “good” hearts, in a battle to heal the broken “sacred” heart of Trinidad and Tobago — broken by greed, corruption, crime, disease. And at the head of the band, the first Minshall king and queen in a decade: Son of Saga Boy and Miss Universe, commissioned by the National AIDS Coordinating Committee, representing, respectively, the perils of HIV and AIDS and the compassion that overcomes stigma and hypocrisy. The involvement of the NACC, in fact, has been the catalyst for Minshall’s return to Carnival. The Sacred Heart will communicate AIDS awareness through its performance in the streets of Port of Spain and on the Savannah stage.

The man in black shows sketches to his audience; he describes the performance that will unfold at the Savannah, sings snatches of songs, demonstrates a few dance steps. The Callaloo crew are spellbound. But the task he is laying before them is close to impossible: a full-size band plus king and queen in just four weeks? They wouldn’t — couldn’t — do it for anyone but Minshall.

Then he mentions he hasn’t actually finished his final drawings yet.

It is the first Friday in February, and an exhibition of Carnival photographs is opening in Port of Spain. Perhaps a hundred people are gathered to hear the feature address.

Slowly, Minshall climbs the steps to the stage. He stands at the podium, shuffles his notes, lifts his head, and a look of mock surprise comes over his face: an audience. Pause f. . .

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