Gaynah stands in the middle of the road, the only road that leads up and down this hill. She watches the others leave in the forlorn way you see dogs do when their owner leaves them. I find a rock and sit down. I’m not kissing her feet. If she wants to play, she’s going to have to speak to me.
I find a stick and draw in the dirt because, let’s be honest, I can stay silent for hours. Days, even. Gaynah, on the other hand—
‘Fine,’ she huffs, ‘come on.’ She marches off shouting her plan, which isn’t her plan at all—it’s ours. We spent hours planning our attack.
‘You distract Ms Gee, and I’ll run to the tree and pick the leaf.’
That can’t be the plan.
‘Why don’t you distract Ms Gee?’ I say, thinking I’ve had my fair share of that miserable old woman.
‘Because you won’t remember the plan,’ she retorts. ‘We’ll get caught.’
I don’t know what she means. I don’t forget things now—I forget things that happened before. I remember she was mean to me yesterday. It’s Gaynah who messes things up. She’s clumsy, she’s not fast, and she’s terrible at jumping. But I think this has nothing to do with the game. I think Gaynah is just trying to hurt me by reminding me I have problems with my brain.
‘I get caught because you always make me go,’ I reply angrily.
‘How would you know? You don’t remember.’
‘I remember everything that happened yesterday and last week and last month.’
She faces me head-on, hands on hips. ‘Do you really not remember what happened last summer, Clara, or are you pretending for attention?’
Tears brim in my eyes and I’m so mad at myself for crying. My lips twitch. ‘Why would I make that up?’
She waves me away in the same superior manner her mother does. I hate it when she does that. I want to tell her not to talk to me that way. But instead I am forced to catch my breath as pictures of the sea flash through my mind. My legs become unsteady and I look for something to hold on to, but there is nothing.
Without looking back, Gaynah marches off, her walking swiftly turning into a run as she tries to beat me to the house.
She only has a few seconds on me, so despite my shortness of breath, I chase her at full speed, ignoring the sharp stones digging into my feet. I charge up the embankment, where the soft grass cushions my soles.
As I gain on her, she pushes faster, her thighs bouncing off each other, her long hair blowing wildly.
Out of the two of us, I am the faster runner. I came second in the class race and fifth in the entire school. Gaynah didn’t place in either of them.
Ahead, the embankment comes to a sudden end and rejoins the dirt track. If I run fast enough, I can jump ahead of her and win. We are neck and neck; I can hear her heaving for breath and I know she is struggling. Without breaking a sweat, I dig my head into my chest and power past her with ease.
Clara: 1.
Gaynah: 0.
By the time she reaches me, I am already leaning against the coconut tree, arms folded, legs crossed. Usually we would fall on the ground laughing, but this time a slight smirk plants on my face.
She slows down to a casual walk before reaching me, her head stuck in the air, her heavy breathing giving her away.
Without a word, she strides past me and up the dugout path to Ms Gee’s house. I follow, but the victory turns sour in my mouth because I miss my best friend.
Chapter Four
Ms Gee’s wooden house balances on four stilts. It looms before us like a beast daring us to trespass. Its red zinc roof and red steps that lead up to the veranda are the only spots of colour on the otherwise gloomy house. It’s unlike most of the other houses around here because she refused to replace it with brick to make it safer. Storms are a regular occurrence on the island, one of the pitfalls of living somewhere tropical. I have been through two storms and one hurricane. Each time it comes, Sycamore feels it. Our houses get damaged, Papa’s boat needs fixing for the hundredth time, trees fall, the roads flood, and if you’re lucky, school is cancelled. Mama says Ms Gee just doesn’t like being told what to do, even if you’re trying to help her.
Gaynah lowers herself behind the tall grass. I creep up behind her. We peer through the grass stems, towards the veranda.
The back of Ms Gee’s unmistakable grey bun is the only thing we can see. The rocking chair creaks with her every move.
Gaynah gives me the thumbs up.
I swallow hard and straighten my frame from the cramped position I’m folded into. Forcing one foot in front of the other, my eyes fixed on the back of Ms Gee’s head, I step into the yard. That’s when I see her. The new girl. She is sitting on the veranda wall, reading a book and wearing an oversized multi-coloured top over jean shorts, her curly black hair pulled high into two buns, finished off with two giant white bows. Just like Gaynah said. Our eyes meet and I stop short.
She is a rainbow of colours exploding into Ms Gee’s gloomy house. She stares at me and I stare at her and neither of us moves.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Gaynah creeping on all fours towards the tree. She freezes too when she sees the girl. Her eyes widen in horror. She has been caught creeping into Ms Gee’s yard and Gaynah doesn’t like being in trouble. Neither do I, but I won’t get punished the way she will. Her mother won’t let her see daylight for at least a week.
The girl’s eyes screw up tight, and her jaw moves from side to side. Gaynah and I sneak a look at the tree. I know she is thinking what I’m thinking. Should we just run for it? Time is ticking, and Calvin and his group are surely on their way back now.
As if sensing an intruder, Ms Gee’s head twitches to the side, and she leans forward.
Nobody moves. Not even the girl.
The rocking comes to a screeching halt, and Ms Gee lurches forward. Her nose jerks upwards, sniffing the air as an animal would when trying to catch the scent of its prey.
Without warning, as if spooked by something, Gaynah jumps to her feet and runs across the yard towards the guava tree, kicking stones into the air as she goes. Quickly, to mask the noise, I purposely walk into the pan that collects rainwater for when the water gets cut off, which happens at least once a month.
The sound of my feet in the water pan is hollow, but it is enough to have Ms Gee jumping out of her chair. She grabs her stick and scurries to the railing.
‘Who’s there?’
Gaynah freezes inches away from the tree.
‘Who’s there? Are you trying to trick a blind woman? Wait until I tell your parents.’
That is a threat I know Gaynah does not take lightly. I see her legs shake at the mere mention of her parents. The snotty girl disappears and is replaced by the girl I know so well. The girl scared of never being good enough for her mother.
‘It’s me, Ms Gee.’ I run around the veranda to the front and stand at the bottom of the steps.
Ms Gee’s frown deepens. She cocks her head to the side.
‘Clara?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
She leans over the veranda railing and tilts her head again, then straightens and looks directly at me.
‘Anybody else in my tree?’
I shrug while motioning to Gaynah to do it now.
‘Clara? Child, are you deaf?’