Chapter 39
Nyah
The sound of different birds chirping around me acts like Nature’s alarm clock waking me up. Blinking the dryness away from my eyes, they finally adjust to the beautiful cloudless blue sky above me. I laugh on the inside remembering how Braxton struggled to set up the tent. I offered to help, explaining that I had done it numerous times before, but just like a man, he declined every time. The instructions were inside the bag, but he chose not to look at them. He’d rather look at the picture and go from there not realizing looking over the instructions would have cut down his time and frustration by ninety percent. But hey, I literally had bigger fish to fry, than deal with his macho-man attitude. While he cussed and damned the tent, I went on with my task.
After making a circle of rocks, I built a pyramid of wood, then lit it. As the fire began to burn hot, I placed my grandmother’s cooking stand over it, then hooked her medium sized cooking pot on it. I poured the cooking oil inside, then went to clean the fish again as the grease grew hot. I then mixed together seasonings with the cornmeal and flour mixture like my grandmother taught me. A few times, I had to push Braxton away as he tried to see what I was putting together. Other than Kenia, I’m the one grandmother entrusted with her tantalizing combination. Daddy has his own that he has shared with the Elder’s and the rest of the Pack and it’s mouthwatering, but it doesn’t compare to grandmothers. I think she only shared it with Kenia and I to keep it as a close recipe with the family.
By the time I was done frying the fish, the tent Braxton put together had one back side lower than the other and the middle sagging.
I tried my best not to laugh as he explained his creation.
“I know you want to laugh, Nyah, and I don’t blame you,” he said. “I should have read the instructions but what can I say? Normally, I have my people do this for me but doing it by myself has taught me I need to be more hands-on with my projects or at least be there when they’re started.”
“You’ll get no arguments from me,” I told him.
“Thank you, love,” he returned, giving me Eskimo kisses. “Are you done with the fish? It smells amazing.”
“I am,” I replied. “I just need to go and get one more thing to amplify the taste of the fish. Can you wait a few more minutes while I do that?”
“Sure, but I can help you,” Braxton offered.
Smitten with his offer, I had to decline. “Thank you, but where I need to go is one of those things my grandmother only showed Kenia and I in private. I’m sure daddy knows about it too. I would never keep anything from you, but until her spirit tells me it’s okay to show you, I have to respect her wishes.”
Braxton didn’t put up any argument as he nodded. “Do what you need to do, love. I’ll be here when you get back.”
“Thank you,” I returned, pecking his lips, then taking off into the forest.
Not long after zig zagging through the forest and doubling back a couple of times to throw off my scent to make sure Braxton wasn’t following me, I came upon my grandmother’s secret garden. I knew he wouldn’t, but I had to make sure. Pushing through the thicket of vines and foliage, I entered into a place that has always brought me comfort even at an early age.
There are rows of ripened herbs, vegetables, and fruits ready to be picked. Fruit trees encircled them like sentries. I don’t know how grandmother was able to accomplish this even during the winter months and I never asked. All I know is that we never went hungry, and she always had pots of her vegetable beef stew ready to serve the Pack during the coldest winter times. Her stew was so delicious, I could have eaten it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Thinking back, I actually did at one point.
Making a mental note, although the cabin might be gone because of the fire, maybe she kept a personal cook book in the shed. I needed to go through the other bins.
I grinned, running over to the lemon trees. I reached up to pick one, then took hold of another before a voice spoke to me.
“Nyah, now you know you could have let that boy come with you,” my grandmother’s angelic voice resonated in my head.
The lemon fell from my hand. “Grandmother?”
“Yes, it’s me, little one.”
My feet felt like bricks. I leaned over, keeping myself in one place, covering my mouth as the waterworks began. If I would have known that it would take a near death experience to speak to your deceased loved ones, I might have done a few drastic things before.