I give him a smug smile. Miss Mo always says, “If yuh don’t have horse, ride cow.” I just had to find another solution. Operation Sticky Buns may have failed, but now we have Operation Fire Mouth.
Daddy and Mariss return to the table and sit opposite Ahkai and me. I scoop some of the soup into a bowl for Mariss. Daddy helps me guide the bowl over to her to make sure I don’t spill the hot soup “by accident.”
“Thank you, Josie!” she exclaims.
I have no choice. I am forced to put soup into a bowl for myself. I pile bread onto my plate.
Daddy reaches for the pepper sauce, and after glancing at Mariss, shakes one drop into his bowl. I guess he is self-conscious in front of his new ladylove and doesn’t want her to see how much he can sweat. He doesn’t even realize that half the pepper sauce is missing.
“Pepper, Mariss?” I ask with an innocent smile. Ahkai’s eyes widen, and he starts to rock in the chair.
“No, no, it too strong,” says Daddy. “She can’t ’andle that.”
Mariss scoffs. “I can handle anything.” She puts not one, but four drops of pepper sauce into her bowl. Daddy’s eyes bulge open.
I couldn’t have planned this any better. She won’t look so attractive to Daddy when she’s coughing up soup and drowning in her own runny nose. If I’m lucky, she’ll hurl her guts onto the dinner table.
Mariss brings the soup to her nose and sniffs it. She pauses, and inhales long and deep.
For a moment, I’m worried she can smell the toxic pepper fumes, but then she puts a spoonful of the broth into her mouth.
I wait for the explosion.
She frowns. “This is …” I hold my breath in anticipation.
“Delicious!” she says, and puts another spoonful into her mouth. Mariss applauds Daddy’s cooking skills with four slow, deliberate claps.
Daddy chuckles and begins to eat his soup. Ahkai gazes at Mariss, waiting for her to clap a fifth time. Growing impatient, he claps his hand once, completing the quintuple, and bites into a dumpling.
This isn’t possible.
The pepper must have gone off.
I put half a spoonful of the soup into my mouth.
Then, I experience the full might of the devil’s seasoning as if I’d died and shot straight down into the flames of hell.
My insides are burning and I cannot breathe! I cry out and start gulping water from the jug. It’s making it worse! My mouth is melting!
“Bean, Bean?” Daddy cries out. “What ’appen?” I jump up and down, pointing at my mouth and the pepper bottle.
Daddy sucks his teeth. “Josephine! Stop being so dramatic!”
But I can’t respond. I drop to the ground, wriggling like an earthworm. It feels like molten lava rolling down my throat, into my chest, annihilating all my internal organs. Snot runs from my nose. I’m pretty sure it’s going to be followed by blood, then what’s left of my brain.
“Enough!”
Daddy lifts me up and marches to my bedroom. He throws me onto my bed. “Stay in ’ere until you stop behaving like an infant.”
He slams the door, leaving me in the dark to ponder how it could all have gone so wrong. I hear someone opening the door, and I already know it is Ahkai.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he repeats. I don’t let him finish. I throw a pillow behind me, not even turning to face him. Ahkai sighs and closes the door, leaving me in complete darkness.
Then Ahkai opens the door again, leaving a small crack. Warm light floods the bedroom, scaring the dark away.
I don’t know when I fall asleep, but when I open my eyes, there is an oval moon in the sky.
My belly rumbles with hunger, but my throat is still raw. I doubt I can ever eat Daddy’s soup again; the thought of it makes me nauseous, but I suppress the feeling, not wanting to relive the trauma through wiri wiri pepper vomit.
I get out of bed and stick out my tongue in the mirror. It’s swollen to twice its normal size and cracked like an erupting volcano. The pale pink color is now a soft red, and it hurts when I move it up and down.
Mariss is not normal. No one can eat all that pepper and have no reaction. I can’t wait to show Daddy my tongue so he can drop to his knees and beg my forgiveness.
I step into the hallway and pause when I hear a giggle coming from downstairs.
A fake, high-pitched, gargle-guzzling giggle.
Mariss’s giggle.
With each step toward the sound, I feel like my heart is expanding, and expanding, until it will burst. From the bottom of the stairs, I stare at Daddy and Mariss cuddled up on the couch, her head resting on my place on his chest. Daddy kisses her on the forehead, and I turn away when she tilts her mouth up toward his.
If I could have avoided this moment by eating fresh wiri wiri peppers every day for breakfast till I was eighteen, I would have done it in a heartbeat.
I didn’t think it was possible, but I’m too angry to enjoy cricket.
The team is practicing their fielding skills—catching incoming tennis balls, then running between cones. I return the ball to Coach Broomes and speed to my next mark, but I can’t help but fume at the incident from this morning.
I had woken up early to clean the kitchen as a surprise for Daddy. I scrubbed the stove, the oven, and even the fridge. It was sparkling! But all my hard work was overlooked when Mariss waltzed into the kitchen and had a sneezing fit. Apparently, she’s allergic to the cleaning product.
And Daddy had the nerve to scold me! Told me I should have checked with him. They’ve been dating for two weeks, and I already need permission to clean my own kitchen!
Swoosh. A tennis ball flies past my ear, and Coach Broomes rolls his eyes.
I have to focus; I can’t let Mariss steal both my daddy and this chance away from me. In one hour, the Fairy Vale cricket team will be playing O’Brien Primary in a friendly game, and I’ll get an opportunity to seal my place as the team’s star attack bowler. Daddy will have to let me play once he hears how important I am to the team.
And then he’ll forgive me for forging his signature on the permission slip too. I had snuck it out of the drawer and signed it this morning before we left for school. I swallow a rising bubble of guilt, thinking about the fraudulent document in Miss Alleyne’s desk, but no one has higher stakes in this game than me. I have to work hard to impress Coach Broomes so I can change Daddy’s mind before the actual cricket tournament begins next month.
Instead of warming up, Jared and some of the other cricket boys are lounging under the tamarind tree, treating cricket bats with linseed oil. They’re all in white-and-blue Fairy Vale polos, specifically made for the cricket team, whereas I’m in a plain white T-shirt.
They all laugh, probably at another one of Jared’s corny Ossie Moore jokes. Daddy and Jared would get along; he loves Ossie Moore jokes too. He can’t get enough stories about the Bajan folklore character, legendary for his idiocy.
I grit my teeth and try to ignore the slackers under the tree.
I wonder if Mariss is allergic to linseed oil.
Ugh, I just can’t get her out of my head. I hate to admit that since she came into Daddy’s life, the catch is always plentiful. In the short time, he’s cleared off the rent arrears, and Jalopy is all repaired and has a new dark green shade, though I do miss the rattling.
Even Daddy’s gray hairs seem to be turning black again. He’s happy, and I should be happy he’s happy, but instead I am upset that he’s so happy while I’m so unhappy.
Coach Broomes blows a whistle and we all gather around him. He silently counts the heads, his finger hesitating for a second when it passes over mine.
“All right, boys, uh, people. We want to start this season on the right foot so don’t take this game for a joke.” He flicks something off his tongue. “Now, as you know, some of the class fours went to a seminar today so we got exactly eleven boys—uh, people.”
Ahkai was the first student to sign up for the seminar. He wanted to prepare for
the transition to secondary school as much as possible.
“So nobody”—Coach Broomes pauses and looks right at me—“no-bo-dy get injured or cause any injuries.”
I avoid his eyes. Now I know why Coach Broomes decided to put me on the team on a trial basis. Without eleven players, he would have had to forfeit the game. Today may be my only chance to prove myself.
“Come, let we sit and talk strategy.” Coach Broomes turns a page on his clipboard and walks away. I follow him and the team until I realize they’re on their way to the dressing rooms.
Please, no …
If they go inside, I won’t be able to follow. Someone’s going to realize that, right?
But Coach Broomes struts down the stairs and ducks into the dark dungeon that is the boys’ changing room to discuss the game plan. The rest of the team chatters among themselves, not one person noticing that I am left behind. I kick the grass, and instead of lingering by the smelly door, I head to my safe space on Coconut Hill.
I sit and stare at the sea, hoping the sound of the waves will soothe me, but it’s like my soul is outside my body, looking down at my pathetic, slouched figure, unable to feel the tiniest bit of joy. I wonder if, somewhere in the great, big ocean, there is a fish that gets upset every time the tide changes.
I run my hands along the coarse trunk of the silk cotton tree, looking for the letter “J” that I carved into it, but there’s nothing there. My small act of defiance has left no lasting impact. All the effort I put into making that mark, all the pain, all for nothing. Even when I try, I can’t get anything right. Maybe it’s a sign I should just disappear—from school, from home, from life.
It’s almost time for the match. I dust the dead leaves from my pants and head back to school. I’m approaching the gates when Jalopy’s squeaky horn stops me in my tracks. The sound rattles my bones and I shove my hands into my pockets so Daddy can’t see them shaking.
Of all the days for him to surprise me at school! My eyes dart around the area, checking to make sure there’s no one around to blow my cover. I have to get rid of him before he finds out I’m playing cricket.
“Need a ride?” Daddy sticks his head out the window. He looks like a model in one of those advertisements, with his eyes full of laughter and mouth open after hearing that he’s just saved a bundle on car insurance. He’s holding hands with Mariss in the front seat, who’s wearing a shirt with a mess of white ruffles at the neck, looking like a long-lost musketeer.
“Aurora! ’ow are you?”
Please please please let there be another person named Aurora nearby. I squint behind me, but there’s Miss Alleyne, smiling at Daddy in a purple-and-blue flower print dress. I can hardly breathe; my lie is closing in, ready to drop and burst like an overripe mango.
Daddy gets out of Jalopy. Instead of letting go of his hand, Mariss scooches over to the driver’s seat and gets out of his side of the Jeep. This is sadder than the lovesick couples in those soap operas I’m not supposed to be watching.
“Aurora, this is my, uh, friend, Mariss,” says Daddy with a flush.
“A very good friend,” Mariss says in a singsong voice.
Daddy and Mariss stare into each other’s eyes and grin. I’d roll my eyes if I weren’t so anxious. I need to get rid of Daddy before Miss Alleyne spills the beans.
“Are you here for Josephine’s cricket match?” Miss Alleyne asks, fidgeting with her fingers. She seems uncomfortable with their gross affection.
Daddy breaks away from Mariss’s spell. “What cricket match?”
Coach Broomes blows his whistle, long and hard. I wish I could turn into a handful of sand and let the wind blow me away from this situation. Miss Alleyne looks down at me, and after a moment, understanding dawns in her eyes. I stare at the ground to avoid her look of disappointment.
“Josephine Cadogan, I specifically tell you not to play cricket! You elbows already mash up, you tryin’ tuh dead?” Daddy shouts.
“Don’t be too hard on her, Vincey,” says Mariss, in that sugary tone reserved for Daddy. “I did silly things when I was a little girl too.”
I can feel everyone’s gaze on me, waiting for my response, and I open my mouth to defend myself. I want to argue that tiny scratches on the elbows do not lead to death, that cricket is anything but a silly game, and also apologize to Daddy and Miss Alleyne for lying. All these thoughts merge together and tumble out as a long groan. I rub my temples, just like Daddy does when he’s overwhelmed.
“Daddy, I just wanna play. Just this once, please.” I speak in a careful, controlled manner, as if I’m now learning English, and then I slump against the school gate in frustration. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. If Coach Broomes has his way, I won’t get to touch the ball anyway.”
Daddy unravels his fingers from Mariss’s clutch. Now it’s his turn to rub temples.
“Your daddy and I don’t want you to get hurt, Josie.” Mariss arches her eyebrow at my slouch and I pop upright, squaring my shoulders. I forgot I must always be like a soldier about to salute.
Miss Alleyne clears her throat and she steps closer to Daddy. “Josephine was wrong to lie but she really is a good bowler. Come see for yourself.”
I’m not sure how Mariss is doing it; she’s still smiling, but the look she’s giving Miss Alleyne is poisonous enough to wilt those purple-and-blue flowers on her dress. Daddy looks at Mariss, then back to Miss Alleyne, and I hold my breath, waiting; I can almost hear the wheels turning in his head.
“Listen,” Daddy says, frowning at me. “I gine let you play this one time—”
I squeal, and fling my arms around his waist, my fear now replaced with determination. Now I have the chance to impress both Coach Broomes and Daddy.
Daddy ruffles my hair. “Just be very, very, very careful, Bean.”
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Mariss warns, but I’m not foolish enough to stick around while she changes Daddy’s mind.
I tear through the gates with fresh energy, sprinting toward the pasture.
All the Fairy Vale players are on the field, with two O’Brien Primary batsmen having a discussion in the middle of the pitch. Seems I’ve missed the coin toss, and O’Brien Primary has chosen to bat first. Yes! Now I’ll have the chance to show off my bowling skills immediately.
Coach Broomes is on the edge of the field arguing with the umpire, which is all pretty commonplace, except for the look of relief on his face when he sees me approaching.
“Get on the field!” he yells, and I rush past him, heading to a vacant spot on the boundary. The umpire sucks his teeth but walks onto the field to start the match.
An O’Brien batsman soon hits the ball in my area, and I grab it from the grass and, without losing a second, zip it back toward the stumps. I groan as it misses the right stump by an inch!
“Cadogan, next time throw the ball to the wicketkeeper!” Coach Broomes yells from the sidelines. Coach has so little faith in me, but my disappointment turns to delight when Jared yells, “Good throw!”
“Aha! Here we have lion cubs pawing willow wood, traversing the vast land for pleasure and exercise!” Casper appears behind Coach Broomes, hollering commentary. “I will try to get a closer shot!”
The game is delayed for a few minutes while parents and teachers chase him off the field.
The batsman hits the next ball in my area again, but instead of throwing the ball to the wicketkeeper, I take a chance and aim for the stumps again.
Crack! The O’Brien player stares at his broken stumps in disbelief.
Cheers erupt around me, and all of a sudden I’m engulfed in sweaty armpits—the smell of victory! Daddy beams at me from the stands and thrusts a fist in the air. His support makes a bigger impact than the hard slaps of approval on my back. I feel like I could float up to the clouds.
After breaking the opening partnership, the rest of the batsmen fall like dominoes. Though Coach Broomes doesn’t give me a chance to bowl, he can’t deny I’ve made a good contr
ibution to the team.
But when it’s Fairy Vale’s turn to bat, a massacre unfolds. I watch openmouthed as most of the batsmen get out without scoring. Only Jared has a good game, knocking off most of the runs by himself. By the time it’s my turn to bat, Fairy Vale needs one more run to win the game, and I am the last hope for the team.
It’s so quiet, even the birds are watching.
Coach Broomes drops onto the bench, dejected. He doesn’t even bother to give me advice; he’s already given up.
I walk onto the pitch, trying to remember batting tips, and Jared meets me at the crease.
“Just play a defensive shot.” His eyes have lost their mischievous sparkle; they’re dark and determined.
Daddy looks like he’s ready to leap over the railing and strap me in a bulletproof, or I should say ball-proof, vest. Mariss looks grim and whispers in his ear, but his worried expression does not change. I’ll be surprised if I get his permission to play again.
The O’Brien players huddle, trying to decide what delivery to bowl to me. My heart is beating so hard I can hear it in my ears. The Fairy Vale team is on their feet; Coach Broomes is quiet, clenching his clipboard.
The bowler runs toward me, his face and arms glistening with sweat. I focus on his hand and recognize that he’s going to bowl a slower ball. It’s a trick I’ve used many times, hoping the batsman will make a hasty swipe at the ball and get out. I can win this for the team! I can be the hero.
I bring my bat down in a perfectly timed play and welcome the surge of exhilaration. I’m ready for the moment the ball makes contact to score the winning run, for Coach Broomes and the rest of the team to rush toward me in celebration, for Daddy to remember there’s no better feeling than when your cricket team wins a game.
Then the ball stops.
In. Mid. Air.
What?!
It’s too late to stop my huge swing. The ball suddenly curves under the bat and hits into the stumps.
That crack shatters my heart into a million pieces. I wait for the umpire to signal a no ball and report the opposing team for some kind of ball tampering. How does a ball stop in midair? But the umpire raises a finger in the air and takes off his hat.
Josephine Against the Sea Page 6