Staff Writer – Latoya Wakefield
Chapter 1
It finally rained. They said on the news that this is the worst drought we’ve had in a decade. The tank is almost empty. We’ve been recycling water for months. The plants are weak, the grass thirsty and hard. When it showered, they rejoiced except me.
Mom and Dad filled anything that had a dent – the buckets, pots, bottles, cups, igloos. Dad constructed a system that connected the tank to the roof by a pipe. Whenever it rained, water would run from the roof to the tank. That was our ‘housework’ water.
We wouldn’t resort to drinking stored rain water until it was the only choice we had. I personally disliked using rain water. It was so slimy. Some days I didn’t even bother to bathe. This was how we had to survive in the rural area of St. Catherine.
I watched the rain flowing down the earth’s face. Mom and dad were in the distance slipping and sliding while they filled up the containers.
Why am I here? The steams were running through the mud.
“What’s wrong now, child?” mother asked angrily.
“Nothing” I replied. Upset at myself for once again she’s seeing me crying.
“You better stop feeling sorry for yourself” she announced as I walked away.
Photo courtesy www.stockphotoshowcase.com
It rained for days. The rooftop beated the drip drops. I stayed in bed, not even attempting to get up for food. I heard a knock on my door. I didn’t want to see anyone. The knob turned and there she was with hot callaloo and dumplings in a plate. My stomach growled against my will.
Her face made up as if someone unexpectedly farted and it stank. She tried to relax her features as she walked over to me.
“You….” she started.
“You need to eat” she said. I gestured for her to put the food on the bedside table beside the lamp. She did and lingered.
“Everything happens for a reason” she said and my heart fell.
“Just leave!” She didn’t look surprised; she turned and went back to the door.
Before she made it through, she said softly
“I love you”
I couldn’t reciprocate her feelings. I searched inside but love was not to be found.
I felt so weak. I didn’t know what day it was. The light afternoon breeze blew the smell of Pumpkin Rice and Jerk Chicken to my nose. It had to be a Sunday. Shortly after, the music screamed
“Hear my cry, Oh Lord, attend onto my “.
My door flung open.
“Get up!” she exclaimed with a smile on her face. I didn’t budge.
“Turn down that garbage!”
She pinched her eyes together and took a big breath.
Logo on to CaribDirect.com for Part II next week.
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