(This is the second excerpt from the recently launched book on dancehall superstar Beenie Man, entitled Who Am I?: The Untold Story of Beenie Man (Great House, Kingston, Jamaica). Over the following weeks, Sunday Entertainment will give our readers excerpts from this biography written by journalist Milton Wray.)

Carlene's 25th birthday was on May 1, 1996. The interior of the Cactus Nightclub in Portmore, St Catherine had been decorated and heavily spruced up for the celebrations. The special invitations had been delivered by messengers to friends and relatives, fans, journalists and the top music industry movers and shakers. Almost every recipient of the coveted invitation was in attendance.

The Cactus Nightclub was now packed to capacity with excited invitees, many of whom were formally attired. Bottles of expensive champagne and the most delectable finger-foods were making the rounds, being passed about by sprightly-looking waitresses who were at their courteous best as they saw to the comforts of the VIP crowd.

A celebration like none other had been planned and was now in full swing. Lively chatter was being induced by potent blends of Smirnoff Vodka with tonic, Appleton Gold with Coke and an array of powerful concoctions and mixes. The nightclub's colourful state-of-the-art beams showered the well-dressed crowd with a dazzling medley of colours.

The discotheque was purring steadily, pumping out soca, then dancehall, then house music, before the club's deejay increased the volume. R&B gushed from the speakers. A few couples braved the shiny, chromed dance floor.

Looking on, the guest of honour was delighted at the large turnout. She was dressed in a sheer blue dress that left little to the imagination. Carlene was about to respond to the offer of a drink from one of the waitresses when Beenie Man approached.

"Why yu wear this dress?" Beenie Man asked her pointedly.

"It's fine. nothing nuh wrong with it," she answered.
"Baby, yu couldn't find something else fi wear?" he persisted.

"Yu know that this is the way I like to dress. You don't like me to look sexy?" Carlene teased.

"Mi not saying yu don't look sexy, but tonight don't call fi that."

"All right. all right. okay. I will go home and change. I'll be right back," she said, giving in.

"Yeah, man. That is the right thing fi do. Don't stay too long . hurry up and come back," he said.

Carlene wheeled into the dense crowd and disappeared down the flight of steps leading from the nightclub.

About half an hour later, when he next saw her, she had changed into a shimmering body-hugging purple evening gown with feathery glints of silver and a neckline that was low-cut, revealing and accentuating her most prized feature. A thick silver necklace and silver earrings ideally complemented the evening gown. On her feet were silver platforms.

"Yu look much better," Beenie said, as she sauntered towards him.

Beenie Man was wearing shiny black trousers and a rich burgundy sarong with black buttons and trimmings. His permed hair extensions were gathered in a neatly cropped ponytail.

The King and Queen of Dancehall - the centre of all the attention - were positioned next to two dining tables with white-lace tablecloths brimming with frosty, multi-tiered birthday cakes and silver candleholders.

Suddenly, Beenie Man's demeanor changed. He was visibly surprised when Carlene's friend, Kenny Benjamin entered, strolling into the nightclub through the glass swing-door.

"What him doing here?" Beenie asked Carlene caustically.

"I invited him," she answered.

"Without telling me!?" Beenie snapped.

"I forgot to tell you."

She could tell that Beenie Man was clearly disturbed by the presence of Benjamin. And she could understand why. The rumourmongers had been at work again. This time, the tale on their lips was that secretly, she'd been seeing Kenny Benjamin romantically. She had told everyone that Kenny was simply a good friend, but the rumour had persisted.

Kenny Benjamin was head of the Guardsman conglomerate of security companies and was the principal of several Jamaican businesses. He was a handsome and highly successful business mogul of Indian extract. Carlene had met him in 1995, through Benjamin's co-ownership of Reggae Sunsplash, during the first staging of the festival at the Dover grounds. Carlene had performed on the main stage as well as at the booth for Slam Condoms, and it was then that they'd become friends.

But nosy elements with idle tongues could not see their friendship for what it was. The rumour of their supposed involvement had first been generated by a photograph published in the Gleaner that had captured them dancing together at some party.

When Beenie Man had heard the whisperings and had enquired of her, she had assured him that her friendship with the businessman was purely platonic. But the rumour had been kept alive, and she couldn't truly blame Beenie Man for his concerns now. He was still pouting, but he soon took off into the crowd of invitees.

He began to mingle, going up and down the floor shaking hands, touching fists, embracing lovingly and conversing with invited fans and friends.

Shortly after, the proceedings were called to order and the boy group, ARP, began to belt out Happy Birthday, serenading a blushing Carlene. The group sang lustily and with heartfelt emotion.

They were a quintet who at times recorded and performed with Beenie Man. They were uniformly clad in bright costumes, and their well-blended harmonies soared through the birthday classic.

The birthday girl was smiling broadly as a group of her friends excitedly poured bottles of champagne over her head, dousing her evening gown with the golden liquid. Her dress was drenched and clung to her skin, evoking wet T-shirt contests.

After the playfulness, Beenie Man took the floor. With the music halted and the microphone in his hand, he invited everyone's attention.

Beenie thanked the invited guests for coming out, and gave a short, flattering speech before inviting Carlene to join him. As she emerged from the crowd, he looked at her and smiled. She blushed, the club's hi-tech laser lights bathing her round, bronze face with darting, sparkling rays. Her usually golden complexion was now green and purple and yellow and red and blue.

Beenie Man now had the rapt attention of the crowd of invitees. Carlene joined him in the centre of the floor. For dramatic effect, Beenie allowed a few moments to slip by. Then he reached into a pocket and fished out a tiny jewellery box, which he handed to her. Carlene, a smile streaking across her face, gingerly opened the jewelry box as everyone looked on.

"It's empty," she said.

Beenie Man was grinning, pleased at himself for the prank. He reached into another pocket, with the countenance of a magician, and an unbelievably large diamond ring appeared.

The crowd gasped.

As the invited guests watched, he took her left hand and spoke into the microphone. "Will you marry me?"

The crowd began to cheer.

Carlene said nothing.

He was staring at her, waiting for a response. She looked away. An uneasy ripple ran through the crowd as tense moments elapsed. A glint of emotion in her eyes, she finally nodded unenthusiastically and whispered,
"Yes."

He slid the large diamond ring onto her finger. The crowd cheered again with much fervor.

Beenie Man's expression grew noticeably s****er after that. He was confused. Why had she been so reluctant? Why was there any doubt whatsoever in her mind as to whether she wanted to be his bride?

As soon as the interlude was over and the discotheque resumed blaring dance music, he knew he had to confront her regarding her hesitation. And when the guests turned their attention to the music, hors d'oeuvres and alcoholic treats, he couldn't wait to broach the topic. "Wha'happen baby? Yu don't wan' married to me?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, smiling.

"So why yu take so long to answer?"

"I was just shocked. I never expected it," she said.

He could tell that she was less than ecstatic.

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