We had a large Hibiscus plant growing in the front yard of our house. It grew directly below our landing and in front of the downstairs neighbor's living room window - although in Guyana, we didn't call it a living room, it was a sitting room. I loved that plant and its bright red flowers.
I was very good friends with the downstairs neighbor's daughter - we'll call her Elle. The day that Elle and her family moved in, her father rode into the yard on his motor scooter. She sat behind him with her arms wrapped around his soft and protruding middle. When I heard the noise of the motor scooter, I opened up my bedroom window and looked down at them in the yard. I must have made a noise opening up my window, because she looked right up at me. We stared at each other for a moment or two, and I remember feeling excited and afraid - exited to have someone to play with, and afraid that she wouldn't want to or wouldn't like me. I smiled at her, and when I thought she was going to smile back at me, she suddenly made a horrid face (she skin up she face) at me which meant that she was not interested in being my friend at all. Caught off-guard, and not wanting to show my true feelings, I copied her actions (ah skin up meh face right back at she) to show that I too was not interested, slammed my window shut, and retreated into my room with dashed hopes.
I'm not sure how it happened, but we eventually became good friends. We played with dolls, and we played in the yard almost every day. We particularly enjoyed hopscotch and jump rope. There were endless adventures in our yard. We had access to bananas, sugar cane, cherries, and sour sop - these were a few of the fruit trees in our yard. My father had chickens that we kept on the property. Their coop, that he'd built with his own hands, was situated under the stairs at the back of our house. My father also maintained a garden of potatoes, eddoes, and other vegetables. The downstairs neighbors also had a garden, and there was always some quarrel about who owned what. But somehow, at harvest time, the goods were always shared.
Elle and I used to play under the stairs that led up to my front door. We'd pick the Hibiscus flowers and dismantle them to put the petals in our hair, sprinkle the golden seeds on our arms and eyebrows, and put the pointy part of some inside piece of the flower on the tips of our noses so that it resembled a witch's wart. Wicked!
Since leaving Guyana so many years ago, it is very rare that I see a Hibiscus plant, but whenever I do, it takes me back home to those lovely childhood days with my friend Elle.
Hawaii 2019
