The Volunteer Gardener by Willelmina Joseph-Loewenthal
With relief, Alphonse stepped out from the rather prickly porch into the yard; the mosquitos were troublesome today. Squadrons of them lay in wait to attack; their razor-sharp proboscises honed.
The sun was already well passed noon and he was late. The sea was rough so he’d walked along the mountain road. It had been a while since he made that trek; it felt good to stretch his legs and stride; he always felt restricted in town. This mountainous rainforest was the land of his ancestors; they had fled here from bondage, led by their chief, Jacko, just like Moses had fled, taking his people with him.
Several trees lined the yard, but he was only interested in one. The coconut tree that stood in the centre, dwarfed all the rest. Each year, its yield exceeded the last. Alphonse had been eyeing it in anticipation for the past week. Many of those nuts were ready; his mouth watered, fresh coconut water was always welcome with his evening glass of rum and he adored the jelly at any time.
Alphonse swung his cutlass and lopped off the heads of some juju weeds (Rottboellia exaltata); he considered the edge, sharp enough. Once again, he checked his pocket for his rope; yesterday he had forgotten it and made a wasted journey. Some people could climb without a rope, but he could not.
Taking the rope from his pocket, Alphonse quickly made a double loop wide enough for his feet. At the foot of the tree, he paused and looked up into the canopy. His eyes searched for the familiar fruit. There were none. Stupidly, he looked for his mark on the tree. The mark was there, but all the coconuts had gone.
“Those damned little thieves,” he growled in annoyance. “if I catch any one of them”… he swung his cutlass in sudden rage and felled a mutiny of juju weeds clumped by the porch.
Peering over the back fence, Alphonse looked right and left before hoisting himself over. There was still Williamson’s garden; he had some nice-looking mangoes.
Willelmina Joseph-Loewenthal is an African Caribbean lady of mature years who lives in North Kensington, London. Willelmina has been writing poetry, flash fiction and short stories for several years. For the past year (as a consequence of her attendance at several, short, creative writing courses), she has been submitting pieces and has had a few successes. In her day job, Willelmina is a mental health Peer Trainer in an NHS Recovery and Wellbeing College, working with people who sometimes experience severe and complex mental health difficulties. Having lived experience of mental health difficulties herself, facilitates this training.
Instagram – wiljosephloewenthal
Photo – Willelmina Joseph-Loewenthal
Read The Derelict by Willelmina Joseph-Loewenthal here on Free Flash Fiction
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I enjoyed this, I felt his disappointment when he realised the coconuts were all gone. Thank you