RE:BELLE

Nathan* was the name of the youngest of my garden boys.  Our paths crossed again a month or two after my landlady first showed up with him and his three brothers. After the boys' first visit with my lawn, the elements seemed eager to conspire against me.  The day following their departure saw the beginning of a very rainy period with several days of rain. And so, before long, my lawn became quite the unruly beast.

When my landlady showed up with the boys, it was a dreary day and still drizzling a bit. Poor Geoffrey*- the usual gardener- was still feeling under the weather, what with all this rain and his arthritis. She blamed her recent and constant headaches on her worry over how quickly and tall my grass had grown.

She announced her willingness to, if needed, follow all four boys around with an umbrella for the entire day until the job was done.

While the three elder boys marched off to get started on my lawn, Nathan stayed behind, staring up into my face with something that was a mixture of curiousity and knowing.  We stood like that for at least two minutes- he staring up at me and I staring down at him. It was cold as per Antiguan weather and he was the only brother wearing a sweater.  I offered him something hot to drink and watched as he moved from staring up to me to glancing furtively at his brothers in the distance. Satisfied that they were not paying attention, he nodded, gave me a toothy grin and began following me up the steps.

Once at the front door, he half-whispered that he would rather have his treat on the patio.  He informed me that he wanted some Milo with plenty sugar.  I didn’t know what Milo was, but guessed that it was some sort of hot chocolate powder and so left him on the patio, after receiving his assurances that he was fine staying there.

I returned five minutes later to a Nathan with the end of his sweater sleeves pulled over his fingertips and his little body hunched forward in a battle with the cold. He smiled his thanks as I handed over the hot cocoa. After three careful sips of the hot drink, Nathan’s tongue became quite loose and I listened amused and attentive as he prattled on quite happily.

 My Milo didn’t taste the way his brothers' did- but he liked it. Once, a girl almost fainted in his class (he was just promoted to Grade Two) and the teacher gave her Milo and she was better in a matter of minutes. He didn’t fancy his teacher, but, did whatever she said because his brothers told him he had to. And his mother, before she left for the states last year, told him he should always listen to his brothers.

He shared the same father with one brother. Their father died while he was still in his mother’s belly. The two older boys had different fathers; sometimes their fathers' mothers would send them things. He didn’t much like staying with his mother’s mother- their grandmother. He didn’t like the way she made his Milo or the way she was always spitting. But he did like the ice-pop (some sort of popsicle or frozen juice treat in a plastic bag) she sometimes made. She sometimes gave him an ice-pop right after she’d beaten him for doing something bad.

The hot chocolate soon disappeared, but, he kept talking. I didn’t mind; for some reason, I quite enjoyed listening to him and could have done so for hours. But, quite suddenly, in the middle of listing all the flavours of ice pops his grandmother was capable of making, he remembered himself. He thanked me for the hot Milo and bolted off the patio. He picked up the rake he had left behind, looked back at me one last time and then trotted off, dragging the rake- which was almost the same size as his little body- along.

(V).Damien

*Names have been changed.

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