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Chapter Three:

Banyans in Maalaea

“Jeffery!  Is your suitcase packed?  We leave for the airport in less than an hour, now!” 

My māmā’s voice tore through the music flowing from the rose-gold My BOSE® Portable Speaker sitting in my partially opened bay window.  Her tone made my body jolt slightly from the padded bench beneath the bay window, causing me to lose grip on the comic book I’d been buried in since I finished stuffing clothes, books, shoes, snacks, and every electronic device possible in my suitcase.  “SlimPad? Check!  SlimPad charger? Yup! Ion? Mm-hmm!  Ion charger? Ya know it!” I chirped as I slapped each item into the side pouch of my luggage.  That was over two hours ago.  

I knew Māmā was serious, because she’d used my first name.  But I liked to make her sweat every now and then.  Even though she’d get annoyed, I knew deep down she loved it as much as I did.  I allowed the mischievous grin that threatened to sneak across my lips.  

“Pack?  We’re leaving, madda?” I hollered back, smirking as I leaned over to snatch up my comic book that was slumped in a pile beside my padded bench.  I could hear Māmā’s disgruntled groan as she muttered her dissatisfaction at my response, shortly followed by her deliberate footfalls toward my door.  

“You better be playing with me, young man!” Her southern drawl deepened slightly when she was upset.  She is gonna lay into my pupule butt! I chuckled as I pushed my roller-bag toward the doorway.  One of the wheels caught on an area rug.  I continued pushing, unaware, until I heard a muffled grinding as the luggage resisted any further forward motion.  I looked down at the wheel, and it had dislodged from the wheel mount.  “That is some pilau luck, if I do say so myself,” I scoffed, grabbing the handle, and lifting it with one hand from the carpet, then ripping the rug from the wheel-mount.

“Junior! What–how are you doing that?” Māmā’s voice had shifted from incredulous anger to dumbfounded astonishment.  Her eyes were agape, matched only by the cave formed by her dropped jaw.  Her amber eyes sparkled with amazement as she watched the almost fifty-pound case drop and bounce on the rug.  

“What’s the matter?” Bishop’s booming voice echoed up the hallway, reaching us before he appeared behind Māmā.  He stroked his cinnamon and white beard, looking between me and Māmā.

“Your six year old son was holding his suitcase in the air, with one hand!”  She pointed at me repeatedly with each word she spoke.  I could see her chest heaving with excitement and confusion.  

“No more sci-fi shows before bed, my dear,” Makua kissed her on the forehead, and turned to walk up the hallway, toward the front of our home.  “The shuttle service is pulling up soon.  Let’s all head to the driveway.”  He sauntered away, unbothered, mind clearly already on the Trinity Festival in Ceevis Creek.  

“Ya heard dear old, fadda: business as usual!” I beamed at Māmā, reveling in the fact that I’d been caught doing my secret tricks, but not actually found out.  But knowing, Māmā, there was no way it would be the last I heard of it from her.  

“Well, whatever that was, Junior, you need to be on your best behavior once we get to Georgia.  We’re staying with the Faythors this year, and–”

“Ugh!  Not the Faythors!  They are just so BORING!” I exclaimed, throwing my head back in utter annoyance.  But, little did Māmā know, I really enjoyed being around those three kids.  Especially the twins.  They enjoyed all the games I would come up with.  The older one would roll her eyes, but I knew deep down she loved it when I came around too.  Maybe if she stopped going on and on about that Elian guy, she’d have more fun.  I shoved the wheel back into the mount, and resumed pushing my luggage across the area rug. “Lesgo, Māmā, fadda’s waiting!”  I grinned at her, steering the suitcase toward her.  “Pardon, me!”

Māmā stepped to the side, hands planted firmly on her hips, in fists, as she glared at me, shaking her head.  That woman just knew there was nothing but a life of mayhem ahead of me.  All I knew was that living is fun, and squeezing more fun out of every day is my job.  Even if that meant bugging my mom and earning a few time-outs.  Even if that meant forcing as much fun as I could out of Anaïs and the rest of the Faythors.  There’s no way I would let life happen to me, that I’d pass on fun, even if it was at someone else’s expense.  Anaïs is my favorite target.  “That girl will never forget me!”

© Leilia R. Johnson, 2015-23. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this book’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Leilia R. Johnson with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.