THE SAPODILLA TREE

Claudette Thompson

“Yinna chirren best come down off ma sapodilla tree, yinna hear me.” The raspy voice of Miss Rachael reached the boys’ ears but they paid her no mind. At eighty-five years old, what could she do to them, a bunch of agile, adventurous thirteen-year-olds? 

Miss Rachael lived in Moss Town, Exuma in the quaintest little house on the settlement. It was painted bright orange and trimmed with lime green and had the most beautiful flower garden in front. There was a brick fence of decorated blocks on which Miss Racheal grows christophine and grapes. The vines from both the produce made it difficult for one to look inside her yard. To the right side of the front was the biggest sapodilla tree in the settlement. The trunk was huge and the spreading branches held the sweetest sapodillas one could ever wish for. Sheer nectar!

Every day the boys would pass by Miss Rachael’s yard and would scamper up the tree and have a feast. When they were done they would fill their pockets and their school bags and head on to their respective homes. Miss Rachael was very annoyed that these young rascals preyed on her tree like common thieves. “ I don’t know why they don’t just come and ask me for few o’ my fruits. I ain’t so stingy that I won’t give them some,” she would often complain to her son or daughter who resided in Nassau and with whom she spoke daily.

“Dats how chirren are,” Don her son would say, trying to pacify his mother.” Don’t worry bout them, boys will be boys. As long as they leave enough for me to get some when you sending my package to Nassau, that’s alright. Don’t stress yourself unnecessarily.”

Miss Rachael tried to be calm but the boys created a ruckus each day and they did not even have the courtesy to say hello to her or even to bring her a few of the dillies. “I can’t take this no more,” she complained to Mister Dolphy, the man who did chores for her and who tended the yard. “I’se gonna fix dem good and proper, you just watch me. Miss Rachael will not be taken for granted.”

Two weeks later the boys came to collect their treasures once again. Noisily they climbed the dilly tree and as was their custom, they feasted.” I so full I feel like I is going to burst,” said Marlon, still stuffing his mouth with fruit.

“You ain’t full yet,” responded Jamaal, “I done eat about two dozen.” The boys continued chatting and laughing. When it was time to make their way home they began to slide down the tree but to their horror, sitting at the foot of the tree was Miss Rachael and in her hand she held a leash on the end of which was a humongous bulldog.

“Grrr...grrr!” the animal growled ferociously, baring its sharp fangs.

“ Yinna come down now. I is waiting for yinna. Everyday yinna teefing ma tings, yinna come the right day.”

“Grrr...grrr.” The dog seemed to be in agreement.

Hastily Marlon made his way further up the tree. ”Looks like we in big trouble,” he whispered to Jamaal.

Unknown to the boys, Miss Rachael had given instructions for Mr. Dolphy to go into George Town and purchase a dog from Mr. James who bred dogs. They had secretly brought Major Danger in and were just waiting for an opportune time to put their plan into action. Today was the day.

“Yinna can’t stay up there all night so yinna better come down and own up to yinna wrong. God don’t like teef.” Slowly the boys made their way down as Mr. Dolphy led Major Danger to the opposite side of the yard and secured him properly. Shame-facedly the two boys stood in front of Miss Rachael. She gave them a proper scolding and promised to tell their parents to give them a good cut hip. The boys began to holler. They were in big trouble now. If their parents heard of their pranks they would not be able to sit down for weeks.

“Please don’t tell my parents, Miss Rachael, they will kill me,” pleaded Jamaal. “Please Mam. I'm begging you.”

“I will be your servant for the rest of my life,” cried Marlon. Miss Rachael, I will come and read to you every evening, I will weed your garden. Please, please, please. Pretty please.”

After she had punished them enough, Miss Rachael addressed the two boys.” I think you have learned your lesson. Come inside and we will make an agreement.” The two nervous yet relieved youth accompanied Miss Rachael into her kitchen where she offered them lemonade and cornbread. After an hour of talking, the boys left smiling.

“Okay, see you tomorrow,” Miss Rachael waved at them, “and don’t be late.”

“No, we won’t be,” Marlon shouted.

“Thanks, Miss Rachael. You are a real nice lady,” Jamaal added as they ran pell mell up the road to their respective homes.

Jamaican author, Claudette J. Thompson, an educator, publishes Take the Wheel, a collection of prose and poetry. Ms. Thompson is a resident of the islands of the Bahamas.

Jamaican-born writer, poet, published author, and teacher Claudette Thompson, has been teaching children for more than 30 years. She has been a “Wordsmith” her entire life. Ms. Thompson's mantra, “Words are my toys and creativity, my game,” explains the exuberance and originality she brings to her writing as well as to her job as an educator. In both her Jamaican as well as her Bahamian homelands, she has meticulously honed her craft as a Red Cross volunteer, speech and writing coach, and a charismatic public speaker. To date, Ms. Thompson has won numerous teaching and literary awards. Ms. Thompson currently resides on the island of New Providence in The Bahamas.

Ms. Thompson's book, Take The Wheel-English Literature Made Simple & Enjoyable, a book of prose and poems for students is available in paperback and Kindle.

Enjoy other writings by Claudette Thompson.

The Dog Sitter

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