First Memories

I wake up before everybody. Outside getting bright. Light leaking through the holes in the door, where the almanac with the lady posing on she motorbike hang up. The breeze flap the plastic blind in front the door. They tickle me brother but he en wake up at all. He sleeping sound, sound. He foot under the bed and he snoring loud loud, just like Daddy.

Mommy and Daddy sleeping still. Daddy lie down on he side. He knee pointing up to he face and he hands clasp between he knees as if he praying. I want to go and lie down by Daddy but Mommy take up all the space on the bed. I shake Mommy. She open she eyes and say go back and sleep, chile. It early still.

I pull out the potty from under the bed. It nearly full and pee splash up on me bambam. I watch me brother sleeping with he mouth open. He dribbling on he pillow and he dribble make a big wet circle like the ones Teacher V teach us to make on we slates. A fat mosquito rest on he face. He slap it. The mosquito dive inside he ears. He slap he ears hard. But the mosquito get away.

I take me time and push the potty back below the bed. I lie down on me back and watch the light passing through the holes in the roof. The holes look like dots. Sometimes the roof does make noise as if somebody sprinkling gravels on it. I watch the holes until me eyes see doubles.


From chapter one

I don’t even know the rain stop until I hear the whistle from the road. Me special whistle.

I jump up from the pirha, knocking down me cup of cocoa-tea on the floor. It spread quick, quick and disappear in the flooring.
I could hear that whistle from down in the bottom of the garden, even if the donkey braying, all them cocks crowing and the cow calling Papa for she food. I could hear me whistle from anywhere. And when I hear me whistle, is like something does take me. I does leave anything I doing and run full speed.

“Eh eh! What taking you so Peeya!”
Mammy spit out she ugly name at me. She spit out Peeya so hard, some of she food pitch out from she mouth with it. I don’t even know what Peeya mean. I used to wonder if it was somebody who does pee in their bed, but I don’t pee in me bed. Mammy never call Rally any names like that. She call him Beta. And when she say come Beta, it does come out soft and nice, like sweet potato pudding. But she spit out Peeya, just like she does spit out coconut husk from she mouth, after she suck out all the milk from it. She spit it out just like she does spit out nuts, after she suck out all the sugar from the sugar-cakes. And Peeya hit me like a stone. But I don’t go behind the kitchen. I don’t go in the room downstairs the main house and sit down with all them box of books with cockroach in them, and bats hanging up in the ceiling – to cry. I dash out the door just like how them bats does fly out the window when light come inside the room, to go and meet me whistle.