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A short story exploring sibling conflict, consequence, and unconditional love.
 

Tough Love

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Pete jumped out of bed.

 

The warm summer sunlight streamed through his bedroom window, shining on his plump, freckled face.

 

He looked down at the blue t-shirt he slept in — it was a crumpled mess; but that did not matter to him. He just hauled on his tattered blue jeans and shoved his feet into his dirty white sneakers.

“Payta!” he shouted as he ran into his sister’s room across from his.

 

Pete was thirteen and Payta was eight.

 

“Wake up,” he ordered poking her on the forehead, “Cake Feast Day is finally here!”   

“Go away.” Payta pulled the blanket over her kinky black hair.

Just at that moment, a current of warm air floated into the room smelling of cinnamon, pineapple, rum with a hint of bacon and toasted bread mixed in.

Their mother shouted, “Breakfast is ready!”

 

He dashed out the door to the dining room.

Sitting at the varnished oak table, Pete’s thoughts wandered to Cake Feast of the past as he ate.

The event was held every summer in the square of their village in Westmoreland, Jamaica. He and Payta would eat Black Forest, Red Velvet — every type of cake imaginable until his belly resembled that of Sunday’s stuffed pot roasted chicken.

 

They would ride on the merry-go-round and play in the bounce house. He would laugh at Mango the Clown's jokes, and antics until his jaw hurt. After, he would down strawberry snow cones so fast he got brain freeze. 

Even with all the fun, he still made mischief and found himself in some form of trouble, and Payta always took the blame for him. He grinned to himself. He always had so much fun! Then he grimaced — this year he was not going to cake feast.

 

His daydream was interrupted by the sound of feet dragging over the red-oaked floorboards. It was Payta.

 
“Payta!" he shouted. "It’s your fault I’m grounded and can't go to cake feast!”

 

Payta shuffled towards to the dining table.

 

“Why did you have to rat me out to Maw," he continued. "You didn't have to tell her about the hot pepper sauce I put on your face soap!”

“Your practical joke could have blinded me!” Payta shouted back. “That’s why!”

“You're such a crybaby.” Pete stuck his tongue out at her. “Crybaby.”

Payta flopped onto the chair next to the open window. The breeze played with the white chiffon curtains, brushing them against her red cheeks.

“I’m still sore from the whipping Maw gave me yesterday.” Pete gulped his orange juice.

“I’m through covering up your practical jokes and getting you out of trouble,” Payta said decisively, and picked up three strips of bacon from her plate.  “As of now you are on your own.”

As Pete watched the oil drip from the bacon in her hand onto her pink T-shirt and white jeans..., he got an idea.

 

He fell onto his knees before her, “Payta, please fake being sick," he pleaded. "If you do, Maw will have no choice but to let me go set up our cake booth and probably let me stay for the day.”

“No, I won’t,” she refused, “because Maw wouldn’t let me go either.”

“What if I do all your chores for the next two weeks?” 

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"No, this year is promised to be the best and I don't want to miss it." 

​

She pushed him away with a foot.

​

Pete negotiated, "What if I also clean your room too?"

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"Hmm...." She thought for a moment. “Make it one month.”

“Agreed, and I'll start now.”

 

Pete stood up, cleared the dishes from the table and took them into the kitchen.

The air was hot and heavy with the aroma of mixed spices. The wooden table in the center of the room was covered with cakes; cinnamon raisin, pineapple upside-down and cherry cakes and others. All for Cake Feast! Pete’s mouth salivated.

The counter tops and sink were filled with dirty bowls, pots and baking tins.

​

“Maw, where should I put these?”

“Give them to me,” she said, her short, plump arms outstretched towards him. “Tell Payta it is time for her to go to the square to set up the display booth for these cakes.”

Just at that moment, Payta walked in gripping her belly.

 

"Maw, I feel sick.” Payta's face contorted with pain... “and my eyes still hurt from the pepper.”

“Hm! You are in luck today boy.” Maw stared him in the eyes. “Go set up the booth and come home after. You are still grounded.”

Pete did not wait to hear another word. He grabbed the bag containing the dressings for the booth and dashed off towards the square.

​

As he entered the square, a warm current of air filled his nostrils with a mixture of cakey aromas.

 

Strolling along the street, he admired the crepe paper banners of green, yellow and black; the colors of Jamaica’s National Flag that hung high across the streets of the square. 

Pete maneuvered through the chattering Village folks carelessly scattered in the square, as he took in his surroundings. Display booths lined the sidewalk to his right, and small swarms of carpenter bees hovered around the cakes while swallowtail butterflies fluttered through the air.

 

Maw’s booth was in the center of it all.

To his left were vendors selling snow cones, cotton candy, balloons — all different kinds of treats to entice and entertain everyone. Their stalls stretched down the street as far as his eyes could see.

​

In the distance he spotted Blagic, the Magician. Awesome!  Blagic is here this year.  he thought and grinned to himself. He waved at him even though he knew, he would not see.

 

At the end of the square, smoke billowed into the air from the Jerk Chicken pans, and from the coal pots roasting salted mackerel, yellow yam, and corn.

Tempted to explore further, Pete forced himself to stop at Maw's booth.

 

"I will make sure I do a great job, make Maw happy so she will not send me home."  He snickered at the thought.

 

Pete threw the white linen cloth over the table. He decorated the edges with pink, yellow and blue hibiscus flowers. 
 

“Hey slowpoke!” a voice teased from behind him. "Hurry up!"

He spun, to see Payta’s arms outstretched towards him with the pineapple upside down cake.

 

“What are you doing here,” he said grabbing the cake from her. “We had a deal!” snapped Pete.

“I changed my mind.” Payta wore the expression of a sly fox. 

Pete frowned. “Maw is surely going to send me home.”

“Yeah, that’s right bro,” Payta grinned broadly. “You really thought you would get off that easily? I wanted you to see what you would be missing.”

“I'll get you for this,” hissed Pete. “You just wait and see.”

Just then, Maw rolled her trolley up to them. In the trolley were all the cakes from this morning.

 

“Pete, unload the trolley!” Maw ordered.

 

He watched as Maw she glanced at the booth.

 

"Since you did such a great job decorating," she said with a smile, "You can help out for the rest of the day.”

“Oh, OK!” Pete beamed. “Sure will, Maw!” He stuck his tongue out at Payta.

Pete separated each cake on the table using rows of bi-colored red and yellow Poinciana flowers.

 

“Maw, I’m done," he radiated with pride as he surveyed his work. "Can I go cake tasting?”

Maw examined the display. She smiled and nodded. “Yes, and take your sister with you.”

Pete hissed his teeth softly under his breath, “I’m not taking that back stabber anywhere with me, “he muttered to himself. “She is on her own this year.” He sprinted off pretending he did not hear what Maw said.

Pete stopped at Ms. May’s booth; her chocolate fudge cake was the best.

He ate a piece. "Hmmm! Hmm! Hm!". He jigged on the spot and licked his lips. He was in chocolate heaven.

 

Pete strolled down the line of booths. There were cakes shaped like cars, airplanes, mermaids and countless other things. They were single layered cakes up to quadruple layers. Cakes were decorated with buttered icing, frosting, fruit, nuts and a combination of all.

 

They were all going to be judged to determine a winner, which he had no interest in. He was only there for the tasting, fun and games.

“Help!”

 

A horrid scream rang out silencing all the noise.

 

“Help! Help!” 

 

Pete spun in the direction of the scream. It was Payta. She was running towards him; her hands waving wildly above her head as Carpenter bees chased her.

She ran past him.

 

Pete dragged the closest tablecloth within his reach. Cakes flipped in the air….

 

He chased after her and swatted the bees away with the tablecloth. He followed her into the Parish church and slammed the door behind him.

Just at that moment, Payta buckled over a bench and fell to the ground.

 

Pete ran to her side and hugged her.
 

“They are gone," he said breathlessly. “Did you get stung?”

“No,” gasped Payta.

Pete could feel her heart thumping heavily against his chest, and he hugged her tighter. “I’m here now and I will not let anything hurt you, baby sis,” he said reassuringly. “What happened?” 

“There were swarms of bees hovering over Maw’s booth," Payta explained, “and when I tried to fan them away, they attacked.”

“Carpenter bees will do that if they feel provoked,” explained Pete.  “Next time just leave them alone and they will leave on their own.”

“OK,” Payta nodded and looked into Pete’s eyes. “Thanks for saving me.”

“Always sis." He rocked her back and forth in his arms. “And just so you know, even though I play practical jokes on you that are sometimes really mean, I love you and never mean to hurt you.”

 

Pete helped her up.

 

“Let’s go back to Cake Feast and have some fun like old times!”