It was Saturday morning. Shayla was helping Mommy fold sheets. A deep, trumpeting noise came from outside. Shayla ran out and spotted Michael high in the branches of the lime tree with Granny’s conch shell to his lips.
After a quick check for scary caterpillars, she climbed up to join him. They sat side by side on the branch, watching the world below.
“What’s it like, living in London?” Shayla said. “You seem to think it’s much better than Arouca.”
“London’s brilliant. You’re never bored. You can go on boat trips on the river. And there’s this massive wheel that’s taller than a building and you sit in a pod and look across the whole of the city. There’s a zoo –”
“Trinidad’s got a zoo.”
“London’s is bigger. And in winter you can go ice-skating outside.”
“You can’t do that in Trinidad,” Shayla said. “But we do have the beach. Mommy’s going to take us there and we’re leaving in an hour!”
The beach was a long drive away. The car wound its way along steep roads where waterfalls trickled down the hillside. Weaver-bird nests hung like old socks from high branches.
Then, at last…
Clear sky. The wrinkly sea. And fun.
The cousins sat at the water’s edge. Waves splashed over them. Black cormorants swooped down for fish.
Later, they rummaged around in a river pool. Michael collected tiny black tadpoles.
“Frogpoles!” They hopped up his arm. “Not quite tadpoles or frogs.”
Shayla showed him holes in the sand dunes where crabs lived. She told him about the turtles coming out at night to lay their eggs. You had to be very quiet if you wanted to see them.
Just before they went home, Mommy bought them snow cones – flaky ice and red syrup.
“So do you still think London is better than Trinidad?” Shayla asked her cousin as they got back in the car.
“Trinidad does have some cool things,” Michael admitted.
The following day, Michael went off to play cricket with his cousins. Shayla decided to get to know the “pet” that Michael had brought from England. She climbed up to her favourite branch in the lime tree. Granny was throwing corn to the chickens below.
Shayla peered at the screen and fiddled with the buttons. Sometimes, the pet bleeped. Sometimes, the pictures moved around a bit. But it didn’t seem nearly as interesting to her as watching the marching ants or lazy iguanas.
She shook the pet hard to see what happened. Oops! It slipped out of her hands and tumbled down through the branches. The pet bounced off Granny’s head and onto the floor.
Shayla clambered down.
“Sorry, Granny. I don’t understand why girls in London like these things. Maybe I’m just not clever enough.
Do you think it would be different if I lived in London?”
Granny picked up the dusty toy and handed it to Shayla.
“You’re fine just the way you are. If you lived in London, I would hardly ever see you.”
“I know, Granny.” Shayla sniffed back tears. “But why is Michael better than me at everything? He’s even more like a true Trinidadian.”
“Oh, Shayla!” Granny gave her a hug. “I’m sure there are some things that you can do better than Michael. Why don’t you have some ice cream to help you think?”
The old bike was propped against the freezer. Shayla moved it aside.
“Yes!” Shayla stared at the bike. “Ice cream is very good for thinking.” On Sunday afternoon, Mommy took Michael and Aunty Jess to visit elderly Tante Eve on the other side of Arouca. They were gone for a few hours.
Shayla stayed behind to be with Granny. Now she was on the porch keeping watch again. She squinted into the distance.
“I think I can see them.” Three figures, one slightly shorter, had appeared at the end of the road. “Are you ready?”
“Ah ha.” Granny didn’t sound sure.
“Well,” Shayla said. “It’s time.”
Shayla burst out of the gate and ran towards her family.
“What’s the matter?” Mommy said. “Is something wrong with Granny?”
Shayla pointed towards the house. “Look!”
They couldn’t see anything, but they could hear it. A faint ting ting, getting louder, coming towards them.
“I don’t believe it,” Mommy said.
“It can’t be…” Aunty Jess said.
There, wobbling down the road towards them on Grandpa’s rusty old bicycle, was…
“Granny!” Michael’s voice was full of admiration. She juddered to a stop in front of them. “Mum told me you couldn’t ride that bike!”
Granny winked at Shayla. “I had an excellent teacher.”
Aunty Jess held the bike so Granny could get off. “But I tried to teach you and you pedalled backwards!”
“And then you landed in a bush,” Mommy added.
“My father tried, and your grandpa. And even Uncle William.” Granny beamed. “But only Shayla has managed to succeed.”
Michael looked from one smiling person to another. “Well done, Shayla. That’s one challenge I don’t think I could have won!”
“Yes,” laughed Aunty Jess. “Us Londoners have no patience. We’re just too hot-headed, eh, Michael?”
“And too hot-mouthed,” Shalya giggled, remembering the pepper sauce.
Michael blushed. “Truce?” he offered.
“Truce,” Shayla agreed. “And now let’s try and have some fun.”
