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- Herausgeber: Pushkin Children's Books
- Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
- Serie: Di Island Crew Investigates
- Sprache: Englisch
It is meant to be Fayson's best summer yet.Di Island Crew are throwing her a spectacular birthday party, and it's time to dress to impress.But Fayson has a secret, one that she can't even share with her closest friends. Then a member of the gang is kidnapped, and the crew must race against time to find them.Can the friends put everything to right - or will summer be ruined for good?
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Seitenzahl: 138
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024
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Contents
Chapter 1
“Happy Birthday to you,” Mama sings as I enter the living room still bleary eyed from waking up minutes ago. Her favourite reggae birthday song, that she plays every year, blasts through the apartment.
Mama stands behind our round dining table, which is filled with presents and a chocolate cake. She points her phone camera at me rocking from side to side singing loudly. 10
Happy Birthday to you.
Happy Birthday to you.
Happy Birthday to my darling Fayson.
Happy Birthday to you.
She adds my name to the song and laughs as she tries to fit the words in.
I wait on the other side of the table for the song to finish. When it does, Mama cheers, punching the air with one hand like turning twelve was winning the lottery.
She scurries around the table and hugs me. “Happy Birthday my little baby.”
“Mum,” I groan, pulling my head away as she plants kisses all over my face.
“What? I can’t kiss my daughter on her birthday?” she says stepping back, still with the camera pointed at me.
I shield my face. “I just woke up,” I tell her, knowing full well that video is going to end up on social media. 11
“Oh, stop yuh moaning and set yuh face straight,” she says, waving me away. She stands back. “You want to open yuh presents now, then have breakfast? Or breakfast first?”
“Presents first, please!” I beg, flashing her my sweetest smile.
She laughs. “Go on den, open dem.”
Christmas and birthdays are always so exciting for me. Not because I expect much. We’ve never had much money, but I know that whatever Mama gets me, it will be something I have mentioned. Something I really wanted. She is good at that. All the books I have in my room are because Mama heard me talk about them. She never says anything. Never tells me she’s writing it down somewhere so she can remember, but she does. She always remembers.
I open the cards first so Mama doesn’t think I’m only interested in the gifts. 12Although it’s killing me inside not to rip all the presents open and ignore the card.
Mama’s card has a photo of us both when we were on Lighthouse Island last holiday. We were sitting by the pool of Uncle Edmond’s huge villa and Aunty Desiree took the photo without us knowing. She sent it to Mama when we got home.
Inside the card is the usual—she loves me, how she is proud of the woman I am becoming, how she is proud to be my Mama. I beam, placing the card on the table. The second card I open is from Ms Lee, our neighbour, who looks after me sometimes when Mama is working. A few hundred Jamaican dollars fall out. Mama grabs it before I do. She folds the money into her pocket, giggling.
“Mama!” I cry.
She looks at me with wide eyes. “Your money is my money, Fayson, we can buy some patties wid dis.” 13
I sigh, returning back to the card. “Okay,” I say quietly.
There is silence, then Mama breaks into loud laughter. She nudges me, handing me the money back. “Look at yuh face!” she cries. “Yuh wud think someone had died. Tek yuh money.”
I shake my head. “It’s okay Mama, you need it more than me.”
Her smile fades and she places the money on the table. “Yuh really should think about how yuh say tings,” she mumbles.
The mood lightens again as I read a card from Barry, my frenemy from the other block of flats.
Even on yuh birthday you still reek.
Happy Birthday
Clean your stinky feet.
“Nice,” I mutter. 14
There are cards from Uncle Edmond, Aunty Desiree and the twins. Finally I reach for the presents, ripping them open at top speed as though I am on a timer and they will all detonate.
Just as I expected, Mama got me what I wanted. A new notebook, “for your detective business,” she says, and a Polaroid camera which I know was expensive.
I do a little bounce of excitement and hug her tightly. “Thank you, Mama.”
“Happy twelfth birthday,” she says. She holds me for some time as though we are saying goodbye. I nestle in her chest, waiting for her to let go. “Right,” she says, heading to the kitchen. “Yuh get yuh favourite breakfast today.”
I clap with delight. “Mango, plantain and fried dumpling!”
“With some callaloo,” Mama adds.
I make a face. “Yuk.” 15
My phone pings. It’s a message in the Island Crew group chat, so I sit down at the table and open it.
you are invited to the birthday
party of fayson murray
where: at the brookes’ residence,
lighthouse island
dress code: dress to impress!
time: 5pm start
rsvp tia
Immediately the texts start coming in.
omar: You didn’t say we would dress up when I agreed to this.
ace: Dress to impress could mean anything.
omar: K, I’m going to impress in my pyjamas.
tia: NO PYJAMAS!
Thanks guys! I’ll be there, I reply.
tia: You better!16
I am surprised Tia is organizing a birthday party for me. I would have expected it from Gaby, Ace or even Aaron, but not Tia. Not so long ago we were fighting about everything and anything. Like, who leads Di Island Crew, who had the best ideas. If ever we had to take a vote, Tia and I always disagreed. If she said blue, I said red. Now she was willingly throwing a birthday party for me. It’s strange how your opinion of someone can change.
Mama places a plate of food in front of me and one for herself. She sits down across from me and I show her the text. She squints at the message because she struggles with her eyes sometimes, but she refuses to go to the opticians.
“Another party?” She shakes her head. “Dey have parties for waking up over dere.”
“It’s for my birthday,” I tell her, sticking my fork into a slice of plantain. 17
“Oh,” she says, “dats alright then.”
After breakfast, I collect all my presents under my arm, piling the cards on top to carry them to my room.
“Oh, mi did forget to give yuh dis,” Mama says, rushing over to the kitchen table where all her letters are piled. She shifts through and grabs an envelope, bringing it over to me. She places it on top of the pile. “From your father’s family,” she says, returning to the table.
I stare at the white envelope while balancing under a jenga of cards and presents. I read the words on the front in neat capitals:
to ms fayson murray
There are little heart stickers all around my name and my address written in black ink. I continue to stare at the card, reading the words over and over like I have never seen 18my name written down before. I wonder what my father’s handwriting would have been like if he wrote my name. I bet he was a messy writer like me. He seemed that way from all the stories Mama told me. He seemed a lot like me.
“The family would like to spend some time with you. They realize you’re growing up and have missed out.”
I can feel my chest rising quickly. A million thoughts rush through my head.
She’s wiping the table clean now and I watch the cloth in her hand move from one end of the table to the other with a rhythmic swishing sound.
“I thought they lived in the Cayman Islands,” is all I can think to say. I don’t really know my father’s side of the family. I barely knew him. All I know is where he was from and that he met my mum when he came here to work. I know his birthday 19was October 6th and that he died on January 12th.
Every few months his sister Maureen reaches out through Mama. Usually through email or social media. But that is all. They are strangers to me.
The swishing stops. I feel the fan above my head. The welcome cool air in a hot and closed-in room. I inhale it and thank the fan for being there for me at the right time.
“Yes, dey still dere.” Mama pauses, observing me. “What do yuh think?”
I shrug. “I don’t know dem.” I shift the pile of presents further down my arm to make them more secure. I don’t want to put them down because if I do, maybe she will think I want to talk more about it. So I keep standing, while holding on to my gifts as tightly as I can.
“I wouldn’t send yuh there alone,” she reassures me. “Maureen tell me about a 20temporary job at her hospital over dere. Good money, good hours. Just for one year, and yuh can get to know his family. They have a nice house in di hills. Maureen seh dey have a big river that di kids use to float down, it goes all the way to di sea. She said dey have a waterfall too and it get busy up dere with the tourists.”
I glance over my shoulder at my room. So close. Maybe if I … I take a step back. One, then two. Mama doesn’t seem to notice so I take another step.
I have nothing against Maureen. She often sends pictures of their family. Her daughter who is thirteen and Grandma Doreen.
To me, they are the family abroad that everyone has. The ones you hear about in stories and never expect to meet. But right now, all I want to do is enjoy my birthday.
“We have some time to think about it,” Mama says gently. “I only sent the hospital 21my interest in di job two days ago. But it would be nice to try something different, don’t you think?”
I don’t want to lie to her, but I don’t want to upset her either by telling her how I really feel. She’s looking at me, waiting for an answer.
“I will go to school there?” I ask her.
She nods. “And it’s a good school too. Maureen tells me dey have authors come and visit all di time and the next town have a book festival every year. She know how much yuh enjoy reading.”
I frown. That does sound good. There are book festivals here too but always too far and Mama never has time to take me. “Okay,” is all I say and continue into my room before she has time to say anything else about Maureen.
I drop the presents and cards on my bed, staring at the wall. I try to imagine myself in the Cayman Islands with my dad’s family, 22making new friends. I don’t even know what the Cayman Islands looks like. A sudden ring brings me out of my trance—it’s my phone. When I check the number I see it’s Ace. I sink back into the bed putting the phone to my ear.
He always calls the same time every day. Mama says he needs a hobby. But only he and I know how much these calls mean to him.
“Hey,” he says down the phone. “Can you talk?”
As I disconnect the call, Mama appears in the doorway. “Which one yuh like?” she says, holding two dresses out in front of her. She nods to a black dress with long sleeves that looks like the one she wore to Nana’s funeral. “I wear dis one once so it still brand new, and dis one,” she nods to a short green dress on her right, “I did wear dis one at a school dance when I was about your age, and it still look brand new.” 23
I blink slowly from her to the dresses while she looks at me, beaming. “For what Mama?” I ask eventually.
“For yuh party on the island,” she says impatiently. “I know you need a dress, so pick one.”
I gulp at the old dresses that could easily live in a museum. “To wear?” I ask to make sure.
There is a knock on the front door and a voice comes down the hall. “Fayson, whey yuh dey?”
I jump to my feet with relief. Barry! Thank goodness!
Chapter 2
“When yuh going to invite me to dat island?” Barry says, sitting on the balcony floor next to me, dangling his legs over the side. It’s midday and the sun is hot. I feel it burning my legs but I am too lazy to move into the shade. I can hear Mama moving around the flat behind me.
I glance over my shoulder trying to catch a glimpse of her and those dresses, but I can’t see her anywhere.
“Huh?” Barry asks, nudging me. I stare at him blankly. 25
“I didn’t hear you,” I tell him, trying to focus hard on his mouth as he repeats the question.
“I said,” he says loudly and slowly, over pronouncing every word, “when… are you… going… to invite me to di island?”
“It’s not my island,” I tell him irritably. “I don’t own it.”
“Mi know dat,” he snaps, “but you can’t put in a good word fi me? Tell dem, say yuh know me and we friends.”
I shoot him a look with a raised eyebrow. His head shrinks back. “We not friends?” he demands with his hand on his chest.
I lean my chin on the railings, forehead pressed against the iron barrier.
“You have your uses,” I mumble. I didn’t want to admit that he was right. Barry and I had become more friends than enemies. He waited for me after school every day. He would give me lifts on his bike with me standing on the back holding on while he rode home. 26
He was at our house more than he was at his own and Mama would often ask him if he had a home to go to, but she always said it while ruffling his hair.
“Well, you have no uses,” he smarts. “So I don’t know why they keep inviting you over there. You don’t even know how to put on socks dat match.”
“Your face don’t match,” I mutter, my mind still occupied with the dresses Mama was going to force me to wear.
“Dat don’t make no sense,” Barry replies, also leaning his head against the railings. “What’s wrong wid you?”
I stare past him as I try to make sense of everything in my head.
“Something wrong wid you,” he repeats, but his voice is softer this time. “Normally your comebacks are better than dis, but today you don’t want to try and dat no fun.” 27
I sigh and tell him about the old-fashioned dresses Mama wants me to wear to my birthday party. It was no use telling him about the Cayman Islands, not yet. It might not even happen.
There is a moment’s silence. “Listen, if you promise to put a good word in for me with di island folks, then I will make sure you don’t wear yuh mama’s ugly dresses,” he says.
I frown. “How you going to do that?”
Barry taps his temple. “I’m not top of my class for nothing.”
I roll my eyes. “Yuh only top of maths class.”
“And every problem need a solution,” he says triumphantly, “just like maths. Don’t you worry how I’m going to do it. You keep your promise and I’ll keep mine.”
It’s been one year since I first visited Lighthouse Island. One year since I met Di Island Crew 28
