Team Fugee by Dirk Mclean

Author:Dirk Mclean
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lorimer
Published: 2017-01-16T16:00:00+00:00

10

Giving Thanks

Aunt Lisa had delivered two cedar-planked, whole salmons, as commanded. The dining-room table was laden with food. There was a platter of steamed kingfish slices. Plantain had been done the Nigerian and Trini way, pounded with a large wooden mortar and pestle by Ozzie. His arms still ached. Okras were steamed in palm oil. Bitter melon, also called carailie, was a necessary side dish. Red kidney beans were plated beside pigeon peas and lima beans. Next were sweet potatoes, boiled green bananas, bright orange pumpkin and a large, mixed green salad. Tiny bowls of mango chutney, tamarind chutney, medium-hot pepper sauce and suicidal-hot pepper sauce were scattered around the table. There were large, rounded coconut bakes and homemade bread.

A large plastic tub on the floor was filled with pop and beer bobbing in watery ice. Palm juice (a drink in green bottles from Nigeria) was also cooling in the tub. Desserts were on a side table: pumpkin pie, strawberry-rhubarb pie and an oversized apple pie. Two jugs of fresh coconut water sat near ginger beer from ginger Ozzie had offered to grate because he loved the scent. Sitting in the freezer, guarded by Ozzie the sentry, were two large tubs of — Uncle Russell swore that he woke up early that morning to churn it by hand, like in the twentieth century ‘back home’ — COCONUT ICE CREAM.

Jazz on steel pan played throughout the house on the warm Thanksgiving Monday afternoon. Since Easter, and even at the Caribbean festival they still called “Caribana,” Uncle Russell had promised to reveal the secret of his coconut ice cream to Ozzie. But every time Ozzie asked, he was always too young.

“You’re thirteen yet?” Uncle Russell asked Ozzie, waving him over to his chair on the back porch.

Ozzie nodded.

“You’re sure? ’Cause what I have to impart cannot be imparted to a minor.”

Ozzie sipped from his glass of coconut water and nodded vigorously.

“I’ll give you two keys now.” Uncle Russell held up three fingers and gulped from his bottle of Carib. “One, almond milk.” He lowered one finger. “Two...” He looked around and whispered into Ozzie’s ear as he lowered the second finger.

Ozzie’s eyes went wide. He looked at the last upraised finger. He couldn’t wait until he turned sixteen to hear what other trade secrets Uncle Russell would impart to him.

“If you write it down, put the paper in a vault, you hear me?” After another swig Uncle Russell continued, “You married yet? You have children?”

Ozzie almost fell out of his chair, laughing.

“If you ever have children, pass it on.”

Mom tapped a spoon against her glass of ginger beer to summon everyone. They all held hands around the cramped dining area. Mom blessed the food and thanked everyone for being a part of their Thanksgiving.

Mr. Gupta, Dad’s friend, was thankful to be employed again. Auntie Louise (actually Mom’s great-aunt) was thankful to be free of arthritis pain today and for being almost ninety. Mom’s cousin Daisy was thankful to have made it to Scarborough alive.

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