Next morning, Shayla woke to the sound of the radio and the clatter of cooking pans. Comforting home noises. Though this wasn’t Shayla’s home. Her house was half an hour’s drive away. But she and Mommy had been staying with Granny ever since the eye operation.
Daddy didn’t mind because he was away in America for a month, teaching in a university.
Granny’s house was built on brick and concrete “stilts”. Under the house, they kept a large freezer, empty bottles to return to the shops and Grandpa’s old, rusting bike. Beyond was Granny’s back yard, which was bursting with fruit trees and Shayla’s very own vegetable patch.
Shayla stood outside Michael’s room for a few minutes, but there was no sound. She went into the kitchen. Mommy was squeezing limes to make juice. The skins were heaped in a pile by the sink.
“He’s having a good sleep so his body can set to Trinidad time.” Mommy squeezed the last lime and washed her hands. “But later on, you can both help Granny make tamarind balls. Is that OK?”
Shayla nodded. She grabbed a yogurt from the fridge and went to sit on the steps overlooking the back yard. Three years ago, Mommy had planted a powderpuff tree. Now, a jewel-coloured hummingbird darted around the fluffy, pink blossoms.
The neighbour’s mango tree was full of green fruit. Shayla hoped some ripe ones would fall on Granny’s side.
And then there was Shayla’s favourite lime tree. She loved climbing high into its branches and watching the world below.
Michael woke up at midday. He still looked tired and grumpy, and rather hot in his hooded sweatshirt and jeans.
The cousins stared at each other, then Michael grinned. “I’ve brought you a present.” He rummaged in his pockets. “It’s a pet.”
It must be small, thought Shayla. A mouse, or maybe a beetle. How did he stop it escaping on the plane?
“Here.” Michael handed her a small box. “All the girls have them in London.”
Shayla opened the box, emptied it out and peered into its corners.
“Did it run away?”
“No!”
On the table was something round and purple. It had a screen and five buttons set in the shape of a paw print.
“Yes,” Michael said. “You have to give it a name. Then you use those buttons to feed it and take it for a walk.”
The thing beeped at Shayla. She put it down on the table.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Shayla!” Mommy was calling. She and Aunty Jess came in from the porch. “I’m taking Jess over to our house. She’s promised to help me tackle that wild garden of ours. And I need to pick up some more clothes for you.”
Aunty Jess smiled. “I’m not sure about the gardening. But I wouldn’t mind catching up on some gossip!”
“Can me and Michael come?” asked Shayla.
“I thought you were going to help Granny make tamarind balls,” Mommy said.
Shayla could see Granny through the glass door leading to the porch.
She was lying back in a chair with her eyes closed. The day was hot, but Granny wore a thick sweater. She didn’t look like the same Granny who had chased a big lizard from under the house last year.
“Don’t worry,” Aunty Jess chuckled. “We’ll be back in a couple of hours, and Shayla will look after you.”
Mommy and Aunty Jess left.
Michael stomped around the back yard frightening the chickens and kicking up clouds of dust.
“What’s the matter?” Shayla asked.
“I’m older than you. I don’t need looking after.”
“But you don’t know where things are!”
Michael clomped down beneath the house. Shayla followed him.
“Michael? What are you…? No! You’re not allowed!”
But it was too late. Michael had pulled out the rusty old bicycle and was wheeling it towards the road.
“Granny!” Shayla yelled. “Michael’s going!”
Granny came onto the porch. With a ting of the bell, Michael was gone.
“He’ll get lost!” Shayla peered down the road. “Shall I call the police?”
Granny shook her head. “He’ll be back soon. Anyway, it’s nice to see that old bicycle on the road again.”
“Did you ever ride it?”
“No, darling. I tried so many times. I just couldn’t work it out. But when your grandpa died, I knew I could never give it away.”
“Because it reminds you of him?” Shayla loved it when Granny told her stories about the past.
“Well,” Granny said, with a slightly sad smile. “When Grandpa and I got married, nobody we knew owned a car. And I refused to leave church in a horse and cart!
“So Grandpa tied a huge, yellow bow to the handlebars of that bike, and I sat side-saddle on the crossbar. He pedalled me two miles down the road to our new home.”
“Did he have to go up any hills?”
“Just a small one. But there were lots of potholes! There still are, and maybe they got the better of your cousin. Look! Here he comes now.”
With a clank and squeal, Michael stopped outside the houe. His face was covered with sweat.
“It’s easy to find your way round if you’re used to London.”
He gave a slightly embarrassed smile and wiped his wet forehead with his sleeve. “Of course, I could have gone further, but I didn’t want to worry you.”