Laurel got awake when
her hand suddenly fell off the side of the bed and it felt as if her body would
follow.
Where was she? For
a moment, she thought she must still be dreaming. But no, a sun ray shining
through the window was toasting her toes. There were strange noises coming from
somewhere outside; even stranger odors of cooked food floated in through the
open doorway.
Where was she? She stretched
out her other hand and drew it back quickly as it encountered a warm body.
"What
the …” she began, then shut up as she realized that it was her sister Barbs
curled up close to the wall against which the bed rested; so close she looked
as if she was planning to climb it.
Laurel looked
around the room and sat up, suddenly remembering. They were in Jamaica.
They had arrived late last night at this house after a long drive from the
airport. The last part of the journey had been over some bumpy, dark, scary, winding
roads. She had been too tired to take much note of her surroundings when they
finally arrived. First misgivings about
the sparsely furnished room with the small bed she would share with Barbs were soon
dissolved by bone weary tiredness into sound sleep.
But now, she was wide
awake and ready for action. Swinging her long legs off the bed, she ran to the
window, wrestled with the strange way it was latched at top and bottom, opened
it and looked out. She saw that she was on the top floor of a two storey
building overlooking some kind of square with a tiny park in the centre. The height gave her a panoramic view of the surrounding area. A
clock tower took up much of the space in the park. The clock was obviously not
telling the right time as it could not possibly be twelve o’clock – noon or
midnight. When she looked back after a
few minutes the hands had not moved.
“Time stands still
here,“ she mumbled. “Not a good sign.” She watched a rooster chase a hen across
the park. This was one strange place.
She continued
examining the scene before her. What looked like a small, old church stood off
to the left of the park. Dilapidated tombstones surrounded it. A narrow road ran
almost directly below her window, wound
itself around the park then led off into the distance The road was bustling with honking cars and small
buses driving on what looked like the wrong side of the road. There were people
standing chatting in little groups, calling loudly to one another, or walking
briskly to unknown destinations.
It all seemed a bit
unreal – the bright sunlight, the noise, the laughter, the colorful summery
dresses of the women, men wearing short pants and merinos ; some of them with red,
yellow and green wool tams on their heads. Laurel felt as if she was watching a movie.
Any moment now the sound track would start; perhaps Bob Marley singing ‘One
Love’, and the people on the street would start dancing.
“Barbs! Barbs!” she
called to her sister. “Wake up! Come look at Jamaica!”
A still sleepy Barbs
joined her at the window “Far out! What a strange place,” she murmured, rubbing
her eyes as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. “Where’s the beach and the sea"
“Somewhere …
nearby, I hope,” Laurel answered, although all she could see in the distance
were little greenish-blue hills and behind them higher hills touching the sky.
Just then, a weird,
very loud animal noise started from somewhere to the right of the little park.
“What’s that?” Barbs
asked in alarm.
A second animal
joined voice with the first. The noise penetrated the square and bounced off
the walls.
“Look!” Laurel said,
pointing to two pack animals tied to poles outside a large wrought iron gate to the right of the park. A sign above
the gate read Churchtown Market. People were unloading baskets from a pushcart.
“Two donkeys musn’t
bray at the same time,” Barbs said.
Both girls started
giggling. It was one of their Aunt Candi’s expressions that she had brought
from Jamaica to America. They had heard her use it many times.
“Now I know what Aunt
Candi means,” Laurel said as the noisy braying continued.
“Laurel! Barbs!’ A
voice called from somewhere inside the house. It was their Aunt Candi’s
voice. “Get dressed. Breakfast’s ready.”
Laurel looked down
at the striped ‘sensible’ pjs she was wearing. She couldn’t even remember
getting into them. Perhaps Aunt Candi had helped her. “Omigosh! she
thought. Had she come to Jamaica to turn
into a baby?
After a little
exploration, the sisters found a bathroom nearby and got dressed. Then,
following the sound of their Aunt Candi’s singing they found her in a spacious
kitchen with breakfast laid out on a table set for four.
And what a
breakfast it was! The girls knew about some of the Jamaican foods which their Aunt
Candi would cook from time to time and which they didn’t particularly like. The
table seemed to be groaning under the weight of two large plates piled with
roasted breadfruit slices and a big dish of ackee and saltfish, which if you
didn’t know better, you could mistake for scrambled eggs with bits of brown
stuff in it. There were slices of buttery yellow avocados, and peeled oranges
in a large bowl.
Laurel moaned
soflty,” They’re going to kill us with food.”
“Er… er Cereal please, Aunt Candi,” Barbs said.
“Aw, come on girls!
You remember we discussed this. You promised to be adventurous and try the
local dishes. Dulcie got up early to make sure you would get an authentic
Jamaican breakfast, first thing this morning.”
“Where is Cousin Dulcie?”
Laurel asked, as she cautiously eyed the dish of ackee and saltfish. That was
the name Aunt Candi had told them to use for her. “We didn’t get to see her
properly last night, we were so tired.”
“She went to open
the shop . It’s on the ground floor, right beneath us. Today is Saturday you
know, a very busy day as many people come into town to buy goods. As soon as
the girl who helps her comes in, she’ll come back upstairs and I’ll introduce
you properly. She said not to wait for her to eat.“
Her eyes were
bright with excitement as she blessed the meal and started sharing food unto
their plates. She was obviously happy to be in Jamaica. In fact, Laurel noticed that she seemed to
have shed her Principal-of- their Wetherby-Junior-High-School look for a more
relaxed, almost girlish look. She could imagine this new-look Aunt Candi who
was dressed in a bright floral blouse, long brown shorts, and sandals giggling
with Cousin Dulcie and other friends over old Jamaican times and jokes.
Aunt Candi’s
excitement had been climbing steadily since she had received a letter from
Cousin Dulcie and decided that it was time she visited her birth country,
Jamaica. Laurel and Barbs had been very excited when she invited them to come
along. They had never traveled abroad, and to make things even better, they
were going to Jamaica,
about which they had heard so much from their Aunt Candi.
All the
advertisements on television about Jamaica showed lovely white sand
beaches, luxurious hotels and people having lots of fun. Laurel just knew that she would have many,
many exciting tales to share with her friends when she returned to America.
They were in
Jamaica to have fun! She hoped fun was 'just around the corner' as Aunt Candi would say.
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