Arif (8:22)

There was a balmy heat the partygoers had acclimated to. There was the froth of cold cream soda and ginger beer. There was reggae music so sweet it made the over 50s rock away to a time before house hunting and working and children. And it wouldn't be a barbecue without the food, without uncle jerking a wide variety of meats on his grill. The sun was setting on a dirt road in Ocho Rios, Jamaica, and Anna Kay and Michael engaged in casual conversation about what they expected to find at Auntie's barbecue. She wasn't actually Auntie, but it was the way of the Caribbean that to be older was to be respected, to be family. Anna K. And Michael were in their last year of high school and their homes were situated right next to each other. They had grown up together. Their families mingled with each other. When it was time for Anna Kay's hair to be hot, combed or replaited, the families congregated on either veranda. On some weekend, either Anna Kay's mother or one of Michael's sisters would part thin sections of Anna K's wild head of hair, sure to grease the parts in her scalp as they went. And bit by bit, Anna Kay's hair was done. The two families would take turns preparing food and telling jokes until the thing was finished and morning became noon, became evening became night, at which point the youngest were sent to bed and the adults would down a variety of sweet, earthy, malty drinks. The adults of the two families were so invested in the ins and outs of their countless conversations. Sometimes the children would wake in the morning to find their parents stretched out on the long rocking chair or on a deck chair on the veranda, fast asleep. Michael and Anna K. Were still walking, but it wasn't obscenely hot. The trick to surviving the heat was to walk slowly to start the day before the sun was up, take a break in the afternoon and finish running errands. When the sun was busy soaking its feet in the horizon, Michael plucked two mangoes off a nearby tree and tossed one at Anna K. He knew that mango was her favorite fruit. Luckily, the two pieces of fruit were ripe and gave completely when the bears sunk their teeth into them. Anna Kay's mouth was sweet with the flavor of the fruit. As she munched on it, she looked along the road. The heat had baked the red dirt into a path that could be walked and driven on. On the outskirts were houses with tin roofs and red brick and black metal verandas with marble floors. Every 10 minutes there were container stores. These were small metal stores that sold a few things to sustain the passing travelers. Inside, you would find sweet, multicolored beverages that you could drink out of a bag. Regular canned sodas, cookies and crackers, and a selection of moist spiced buns. If you were lucky, you would find a can of bright orange cheese you could tuck inside the bun and eat as a meal to hold you over until you got wherever you needed to go. The selling men had all gone home. They were no longer roaming the dusty roads at 7 in the evening. Sometimes, when Michael's older sister drove him and Anna K. Into town, they would spot a number of men selling their wares Occasionally the product was a green coconut with the top cut off so you could stick a straw inside. Maybe it was Guinep or Spanish lime, a fruit with a tough green skin that could be easily peeled off to reveal a creamy yellow flesh. It almost had the consistency of a grape and was largely sweet, save for the slightly tart aftertaste. But most often the selling men sold sliced sugar cane. The sellers would use a machete or cutlass to slice the green skin off the long sticks of sugar cane. Then they would slice the sugar cane into pieces from the ridges or dips in the cane. Finally, the sugar cane was chopped into strips. Michael's sister would always pull over to buy two bags. Michael and Anna K. Would happily munch on the sugar cane, sucking the sweet water out of it and chewing the pieces until they were flavorless and discarded into the bags they came in. Despite just finishing her mango, Anna Kay longed for the taste of sugarcane. Michael could sense what his friend was thinking and told her not to fret, that there would be plenty of food at the barbecue. Anna K. Chuckled, amused that Michael had known her so long he could read her mind. As they walked, their clothes billowed in the warm wind. Michael's sandals gently slapped on the heel of his foot. Anna K. Had opted to wear canvas shoes instead. Her shoes were pristinely white, so she only wore them when the ground was dry so as to maintain their color. Two bags swung from Anna K. And Michael's hands. It was an unwritten rule to always bring something to a Jamaican barbecue. Michael had decided on bringing his mother's rum cake, and Anna Kay brought saltfish fritters that had been carefully wrapped in foil before they left for the party. Michael loitered outside the front of Anna Kay's home, chewing a piece of fruity gum. His eyes partially lingered on the colorful skies and a few schoolmates who were also heading to the barbecue. As it was evening, the air smelled of the food cooking in the homes on the street. Michael hoped Anna K. Wouldn't take much longer. He thought that kicking rocks would be a good way to pass the time, but as he was wearing sandals, he wisely opted against it. Luckily, there was a bench in front of the entrance. Michael sat and let his spine sink into the curve of the seat. He rested his neck and head on the top of the bench and allowed his eyes to close. The palm trees rustled. That familiar warm breeze fluttered his clothes, and Michael was almost certain he could fall asleep. The palm trees rustled again. Sighing deeply, Michael felt his muscles turn to jelly. He no longer fussed about who would be at the barbecue or what was taking Anna K. So long. In that moment, on a bench outside his best friend's home, he understood why people dream of living in Jamaica. It was easy for a local to forget the aspects of the island that were paradise. Michael had lived in Jamaica his entire life, and as such he did not know another way of life since infancy. He did not understand why people would save their earnings for an entire lifetime just to come to this island. He did not understand the excitement of the tourists when they saw the beach in Ocho Rios for the first time. Oh, how white it is, they would say about the sand. I never knew water could look that color. They would whisper in awe. A smile touched Michael's lips as he remembered the many tourists he had encountered. And in that moment, space and time were some distant, unimportant details, for he had made a beautiful island home, and he was exactly where he was meant to be. Just before he was completely adrift in sleep, Michael heard footsteps. He opened an eye and saw a familiar person walking toward him. White canvas shoes and a blue cotton dress and freshly pressed hair. Michael blinked the sleep out of his eyes and lifted his head off the bench to get a better look. It was Anna K. She waved goodbye to her mother and approached Michael. The young man's tongue was in knots. Anna Kay chuckled, then nudged him on the shoulder and said, thank you. Michael shook his head and said that she looked beautiful. Anna Kay smiled and began walking down the road. Michael could tell that she had used the perfume her mother had bought for her birthday. A sweet, rich smell filled his nose, and Anna Kay waved her hands away down the street. Aren't you coming? She asked. Anna Kay and Michael arrived at Auntie's house. The front door was open, but a sign directed them to the metal side gate to the back garden. Michael unlatched the gate and held it open for Anna Kay. The back garden was a large, richly green grassy area. There were chairs dotted around and people who didn't mind sitting on the grass. Younger children made joyful little squeals as they chased each other around the open space. The uncles huddled around the barbecue and exchanged stories of being carefree schoolboys in Portland, Kingston, and Spanish Town. They traced the loose outlines of the circumstances that landed them at this very barbecue. Every now and then their wives would overhear a funny anecdote and the party would erupt into laughter. A few youngsters from Michael and Anna Kay's school hung around the serving table and would sneak soft and crispy strips of plantain into their mouths. When the aunties weren't watching, Anna K. Contemplated doing the same. Fried plantain was one of her favorite foods. Plantains are in the same family as bananas, but they are slightly bigger with a thicker skin and a chalky sweetness when uncooked. Michael shyly waved by the gate and everyone turned to shout an enthusiastic greeting. Anna K. Took her and Michael's bags of food over to the aunties who greeted her with a kiss on both cheeks and applause at how good she looked. A group of boys congregated around Michael and exchanged high fives and well worn jokes. Their younger brothers and sisters continued to run in between their older siblings in a game of Stuck in the Mud. Their excitement was plain. So overwhelmed to be old enough to go to a barbecue without their parents, Anna Kay wandered inside the kitchen to wash her hands before plating her and Michael's food. It was typical at a barbecue to put all the dishes on a table spread and place a stack of plates on the far end of the table so that guests could come and serve their own food on a separate table. There were snacks, drinks, and punch. Jamaican Punch was an amalgam of exotic flavors, partly pineapple juice, cereal, cinnamon fruit, syrup, slices of ginger, lemon soda, slices of orange, lemon, and a kilo of ice. There was a ladle hooked to the inside of the punch's multicolored tub. Occasionally, one of the uncles or aunties would refresh the tub with more syrup, juice, or soda. The uncles would take turns flipping the spread of sausages, jerk chicken, jerk pork sauce, smothered ribs, and chicken wings. Occasionally they would sample their hard work before adding more spice to the sauce bowl beside the grill and brushing the meats with even more glaze. Anna K. Had found herself a nice quiet spot on a swinging garden chair. She observed the scene around her friends and families and peers she had known since infancy. The smoky scent of the evening's dinner wafted in her direction and all she could do was sigh. Content, Michael broke away from his group of friends and walked toward Anna K. He plopped down beside her and casually asked, can I buy you a drink? Anna Kay chuckled. She grasped at thin air, pretending to count imaginary money, then opened Michael's palm, exaggerating the gesture of giving him a handful of dollars. Michael looked at his palm and counted the imaginary money. Frowning, he looked at Anna K. You're a cent short, he said. Anna Kay snorted, which only caused Michael to bend double with laughter. It took them a long while to catch their breath and when they had Michael gave Anna K. A tissue to wipe her tears, he stood and walked toward the drinks table, and in no time at all he returned with one can of ginger beer for himself and another can of soda. Anna K. Read the label on the can and smiled. It was cream soda, her favorite. Soon the school friends spotted Michael and Anna K. And drew nearer. They gradually arrived at the portion of the evening where they reenacted scenes from high school in perfect patois. Each teenager would hold the gaze of the entire party as they performed their stories. The adults watching on from the grill would listen with unbridled curiosity until the punchline landed, and then everyone had broad smiles, bodies bent double from laughter. It was time to eat. An older auntie said, grace, and everyone lined up at the short end of the food table to get a plate of food. It seemed to Anna Kay that there was more food than she thought. Auntie had brought out a few more dishes from the kitchen, but which Auntie Anna Kay could not be sure. There was now a pot of stew, a bowl of hard food, fried dumplings, festivals, and crispy fritters, and that was to add to the bowls of ackee and saltfish, braised oxtail, fried breadfruit, and sauteed callaloo. Hard food is a selection of boiled dumplings, bananas, and yams, both yellow and white. Once Anna Kay asked Michael if he would ever eat hard food by itself, and Michael shook his head firmly, saying, you have to have it with stew so it can soak in the sauce. The older siblings held two plates, one of their own and one for their younger siblings. The children tugged on their older siblings sleeves, whispering, I just want fritters and fried plantain. They were woefully unimpressed when their big brothers and sisters piled on a heaping spoon of steaming callaloo. As per their parents instruction, Anna Kay had grown to like the taste of callaloo. When cooked for just long enough and sauteed with enough onions and peppers and spice, it was delicious. It was comparable to a cross between kale, spinach, and cabbage. Round the table the guests went, each one excitedly chattering that they had never known food to look so delicious. There was sustenance in almost every color under the sun, and the sun, the real sun that once hung so high in the sky, was almost entirely gone. The lights in the house were left on and candles were lit all around the garden. Michael held his and Anna Kay's plates as Anna Kay served spoonfuls of various foods onto them. Michael gently nudged Anna K and whispered that the stars would be out soon. Every time the two would exchange glances, their schoolmates and and aunties would smile as if they knew something the two didn't. It was customary to keep the barbecue grill going in case there wasn't enough food, but in this instance there was food in abundance. There was enough food for seconds, thirds, fourths, and even enough to be sent home with. The youngsters spread a picnic blanket near their uncles and dipped in and out of conversation as they saw fit. Anna Gay was proud of her mother, for everyone remarked on how lovely her fritters were. Meaty, salty, crispy, and the slightest bit sweet from the peppers. And though her mother's fritters were one of her favorites on the plate, she couldn't get enough of the festivals. They were fried dumplings made with flour, sugar, cornmeal, milk, and water. These festivals were made so well they were perfectly crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. Michael was unbiased. He loved all the food on his plate the same and was happy to get thirds. The stars were out and after grazing for more food and finally allowing the food in their bellies to settle, they bopped their heads to the sweet tunes of Ska and Rege. Uncles took the hands of the aunties who stood dutifully over the food and beckoned them to dance. At first it was all frowns on the aunties part, until they finally relented and gave themselves over to the moment. Michael and Anna Kay watched from a grassy spot. The night air was turning cooler and Michael, in a moment of bravery, asked Anna K. To dance. She agreed. Michael pulled Anna K. To her feet, took her hand in his own and wrapped an arm around the middle of her back. At first Anna K. Was so very aware of the eyes of her classmates until the music continued to play and like a love spell, it rested in the pit of her belly and all she could do was sway. Anna K. Did not know if it was the gentle bounce of the melody or the sound of the steel pan drums emanating from the speakers, but she was sure she could stay this way forever. At some point Anna K. And Michael kicked off their shoes so they could feel the cool grass on the soles of their feet. The grass so dense it was like a carpet, had all the uncles and aunties kicking off their shoes too. The tables were changed over, the punch, refreshed once more, and the leftover food was taken to the kitchen so dessert could be served. Anna Kay and Michael were the last to pull themselves away from the far side of the garden toward the table of afters. Anna K. Was so flushed from dancing that the ends of her pressed hair had begun to curl. She dove a hand into the bucket of icy water that contained a selection of sodas in hopes of grabbing another cream soda. A pleased expression spread across her face when she managed to find one. On her second try, Michael picked up a bottle of malte soda and began jesting with an uncle. As usual, everyone who had prepared dessert had outdone themselves. There was a selection of cakes, carrot, rum, and vanilla. There were more traditional desserts, too, spiced buns slathered with butter and topped with a sweet orange cheese. On the far end of the table was cornbread, coconut drops, and sweet potato pie. Despite this portion of the evening being designated for dessert, Anna Kay spotted a plate of mini meat patties. One of the aunties had made them by hand, and as Anna Kay's eyes drifted over the plate, she felt the corners of her mouth curl into a smile. Once, when Anna Kay was homesick, Michael stopped at the patty shop on the way home from school and picked up four of the most divine patties. Anna Kay's mother spotted the boy walking up the entrance from her kitchen. He slowly opened the screen door, took off his shoes, and gave an instinctual look of empathy. Anna Kay's mother looked at the bag and knew what the boy had come to do. Her heart warmed. Smiling, she whispered, she's upstairs. Anna K. Was asleep. Michael waited on the chair just by her room out in the hallway, for her to stir. Her breaths were deep and long, and she would shuffle in her sheets from time to time to get more comfortable. Michael didn't mind waiting. His eyes lingered on the pictures in the hallway that he had seen a thousand times over. The fan overhead buzzed and spun, and Michael, too, felt himself drifting off to sleep ever so slowly. The world slipped away and he seemed to breathe in time with his friend. In and out. Then there was a louder shuffle. Michael stood and knocked on Anna K's door. The girl shot him a lazy smile. With sleep still in her eyes, she knew what he had brought. She had smelled the food wafting into her room from the hallway. Michael stretched out the tea towel on her bedside table. He helped her sit up and adjusted her pillows, and when it was time to eat, he sat on the wide windowsill ledge and watched her take the first bite. He knew she loved patties, but he needed that nugget of satisfaction to see her eyes brighten slightly as she took her first bite. And of course they did without complaint, he tended to Anna Kay's slightest need until her mother returned and told him that he had done well and that it was time for him to go home. Michael nodded and took Anna K. S hand. I'm only a wall away, he said before getting his belongings and slipping out the screen door to go home. Seeing that everyone at the barbecue was full, they only took slivers of every dessert so they could sample each flavor while their stomachs settled. Anna Kay and Michael stretched their legs out on the grass as they swallowed each sweet morsel of dessert, and the two could not help themselves. They cut a patty in half and shared it between them. The evening was winding down. Slow reggae ballads from UB40 fused with Bob Marley and Alton Ellis, and the faint scent of barbecue mingled in the air. The children had been ushered inside a short while ago. They had been covered with handmade blankets on the various sofas so they could sleep until their parents were ready to collect them in the morning. Eventually the aunties, content that everyone was satisfied, wandered over to their husbands. Some pulled chairs over, and some were happy to perch on their husband's lapse. They began to recount their engagement stories, their recollections of their weddings and how they had a party just like this, how they had danced in the park or on a beach until the sun went down and came up again. Michael and Anna Kay listened from their spot of grass. Michael told Anna K. That they would have stories like that one day, that they would recount that evening in June when they went to a barbecue and Anna K's freshly pressed hair curled at the ends from the heat. Anna K. Leaned her head on Michael's shoulder and the aunties asked, who wanted hot Milo. Milo was a tinned, powdery substance that made a malty hot chocolate when mixed with water and milk. Cups of the sweet drink were shared out between the uncles, aunties, youngsters Michael and Anna Kay. The heat of the sun had mostly burned off, and though it was humid, the wind was still slightly chilly. Everyone was relaxed beyond measure. The children were most definitely asleep and their siblings were picking at food in the kitchen. The uncles began cooking up some more food they could have at midnight, and the desserts and patties were covered with round pieces of foil. Some of the aunties had gone inside to boil water to make more milo. The air was still and everyone in the surrounding neighborhood was asleep. Michael was about to go inside to get Anna Kay a shawl when the youngsters spilled out of the screen door toward the two. Someone had the idea to go to the beach to watch the sun rise. Most of the young people, including Anna K and Michael, went into the adjoining living room to catch a nap before leaving for the beach. And just before they fell asleep, Michael scanned over Anna K's face and saw that her locks were now entirely cur.

Thomas (48:54)

Sa.