Tales from the Caribbean Page 5

  Meanwhile, Toad was having a fine time. He had hidden himself behind a rock, halfway between the starting line and the first blue flag, and he had rested there, having exhausted himself on the bike ride. Now, fully rested, Toad had lots of energy. When he was good and ready, he got himself up and ran back to the place where they had started the race. This same place was now the finishing line. Wise Owl and Fowl were there, holding a big red ribbon for the winner to pass through. Toad ran and ran. He huffed and puffed to make it look like he was tired and had done the whole circuit. The crowd cheered when they saw him and, to everyone’s surprise, Toad won the race!

  Toad’s victory party went on all afternoon and Toad’s children soon joined the celebrations. There was no sign of Donkey. It was way into the evening, long after Toad’s party had ended, when Donkey finally awoke from his snooze and, very embarrassed, he made his way back to the savannah. He was utterly ashamed of himself for losing a race against a tiny toad.

  Donkey never heard the last of how Toad beat him, and never again did he brag about his speed …

  Sookooyah

  This story is based on a mythical character from the folklore of the Commonwealth of Dominica

  There was once a lonely old lady whose name was Sandrine. Sandrine lived in a house way up on a hill, far away from most of the people who lived in the small village. She had once lived in the house with her husband, Valentin. Valentin had built it himself. It was a simple little building with hardly anything in it. There was just one room where they slept and ate, and outside, at the side of the house, was a small kitchen where they did their cooking. Sandrine and Valentin would plant vegetables in their garden and then cook them and eat them. Often they would go to the river and fish, then bring home what they had caught and cook it up.

  Occasionally, they would walk down to the village market where they would buy rice. It wasn’t that they needed rice; in fact rice wasn’t something they ate much of and they had lots of it already stored in their cupboard. But they enjoyed the walk and the chatter. Their life was simple and sweet and they were happy. They loved each other very, very much and they had vowed that only in death would they part.

  The day Sandrine woke up to find that her husband had died was the saddest day of her life. They had spent so many years together and now she would spend the rest of her days alone.

  At first Sandrine just stared out of her window, watching the sun rise and the sun set. She did not tend to the vegetables in her garden, she did not go fishing and she could not face going to the village market. Though she did not have much appetite her stomach rumbled and yearned for food. Luckily she had plenty of rice from the walks to the village market when Valentin was still alive.

  Every day Sandrine would cook up a bowl of rice for her lunch. But now, being an old lady, her hands trembled so much that some of the rice would end up on the floor. Sandrine could not stand mess so her afternoons were spent picking up the small grains of rice that had fallen. This would take a long time as she found it so difficult to bend her knees and straighten her back. Everything ached so much. Of course, Sandrine had a dustpan and sweeping brush and could have done the job so much quicker but she was so bored. It became a pastime of hers to count the grains of rice as she picked them up one by one, a habit she had become so used to that, even if she had wanted to, she didn’t know how to break. Each day she would bend her aching body and reach out her arthritic fingers to pick up one tiny grain of rice at a time.

  ‘One rice grain … two rice grain … three rice grain … four … Five rice grain … six rice grain … seven rice grain … more …’ And so on.

  When Sandrine had picked up all the rice she would take a nap, and after her nap she would sit by her window once again and watch the sky. She watched the birds spread their wings and fly and wished she could do the same. She wished her body didn’t ache so much and wished she could wander around the streets like the wild animals. Instead all she could do these days was watch the sky and count rice grains.

  One afternoon, while Sandrine was taking her nap, she heard someone call her name: ‘Sandrine! Sandrine!’

  When she opened her eyes, standing in front of her was a strange-looking creature. It was difficult to work out if what she was seeing was real or not as she was still half asleep and, besides, the room was dark on account of her closing the shutters to block out the sun. The creature she saw was about eight feet tall and looked like it was half man, half goat. The head was long like a goat’s with two curly horns and a beard. The eyes were piercing red like a fire. The rest of the body looked like it belonged to a man, except for one thing: the creature had a long tail.

  Sandrine screamed. ‘Wha’ you want?’

  ‘I am Jab,’ growled the strange creature. ‘Don’t be afraid. I have come to grant you a wish.’

  Sandrine rubbed her eyes. She was sure she must be dreaming now as she had never seen a creature such as this before, especially one that proclaimed that he could grant wishes. In any case, what kind of wish could such an ugly creature grant her?

  ‘Oh,’ Sandrine said, not believing what she was seeing to be real. She closed her eyes again. ‘Now let me sleep. I am an old lady and very tired.’

  ‘I know that,’ said Jab. ‘I am here to grant you your greatest desire. Just tell me what would make you happy and I will give it to you!’

  Still trying to get some sleep, Sandrine tried to make herself comfortable in her chair but the creature had disturbed her and the usual aches and pains were nagging at her joints again. For a moment she remembered the happiest times of her life and tears slipped from beneath her closed eyelids as she recalled good times spent with her beloved Valentin.

  ‘Valentin,’ she sighed, opening her eyes and looking at Jab. ‘If you can grant a wish to make me happy, then bring Valentin back to me.’

  ‘That I cannot do,’ growled Jab. ‘I cannot give life to the dead. Pick something else.’

  ‘What kind of wish-giver are you, if you can’t give me what I want!’ snarled Sandrine. ‘Valentin is the only thing that will make me truly happy. If you cannot give him to me then leave me and my aching body alone.’

  ‘I can grant you that wish,’ said Jab, taking a small bottle of oil from his bag. ‘With this oil I can make your aches and pains go away.’

  Sandrine opened her eyes again. Jab was grinning and holding a small bottle of oil in front of Sandrine’s face.

  ‘All you have to do is rub this oil on your skin,’ Jab said ‘and your pains will leave you.’

  Sandrine was tired of the troublesome aches and pains. She reached her frail hand towards the bottle then stopped.

  ‘What’s the catch?’ she asked. ‘What do you want from me in return?’

  ‘Nothing,’ said Jab.

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ said Sandrine, who had lived long enough to know that there was a price for everything. ‘Nothing’s for nothing,’ she said.

  ‘Well, there is something …’ said Jab. ‘You have to follow my instructions and be back inside your house before daylight. If you are not inside your house before daylight as instructed then there is a price you must pay.’

  ‘And what is the price?’ asked Sandrine.

  ‘If you don’t get back inside your house before daylight then you will belong to me.’

  Sandrine thought about what Jab had said. She was unsure what to do. She did not trust Jab at all but the thought of being free of her aches and pains, if only for a day, was too much for her to resist. She would make sure that she was back in her house before daylight.

  ‘Give me the oil!’ Sandrine said, and Jab passed the bottle to Sandrine.

  Jab grinned. ‘Now rub the oil all over your body until your skin is so soft and slippery that it drops off!’

  ‘What? But I don’t want my skin to drop off,’ said Sandrine, thrusting the bottle back into Jab’s hands.

  ‘Trust me,’ Jab said. ‘You will only be out of your skin for a short while. Without your wrinkly old ski
n you will be able to travel out of your house with ease and enjoy roaming and, when you have finished roaming, you can come home and put your skin back on.’

  Sandrine hesitated. This creature, Jab, did not look at all trustworthy. He looked like the sort of chap that would double-cross her, one that would say one thing and do something else. But she so wanted to take a trip out of her house and not to ache any more. Sandrine decided she was willing to take the chance to be rid of the tiresome aches and pains, if only for a short while.

  ‘Turn around,’ Sandrine said to Jab. He did as she asked. Sandrine quickly rubbed the oil all over her body until her skin was so slippery it came off like a coat. Then she looked around for somewhere to hide her wrinkly old skin, somewhere where Jab would not find it, should he want to trick her by keeping it from her.

  Sandrine hid the wrinkled skin in her rice bowl for safe keeping and slid the bowl under her bed. When she bent down to do this, she could feel the effects of the oil already. She no longer felt any aches or pains in her body. All the pain that she had been feeling – in her knees, in her fingers, in her back – had gone away.

  ‘This is amazing!’ she said. ‘I feel young again. Nothing hurts any more. I feel so light!’

  ‘I told you!’ said Jab. ‘Now fly! Fly!’ Jab breathed green smoke all over Sandrine. And, at once, Sandrine’s feet left the ground and she floated out of the door.

  ‘Hold on! Where am I going?’ she called out, but Jab was nowhere to be seen to answer her cries. Sandrine flew up into the sky and all over the village, and she loved what she could see. From way up in the sky, she could see the river where she and Valentin had fished, and she could see the village market and the stallholders packing away their goods. She could see people going home from work and stray animals roaming the streets. As night fell Sandrine could feel her body lowering to the tops of houses where she hovered and, as people slept, she flew in and out of open windows, making people call out with fear! They were afraid when they saw her, because without her skin she looked so ugly. People couldn’t tell if she was real or if they were dreaming.

  ‘Keep away from me!’ the people screamed. No one wanted Sandrine near them.

  ‘It’s only me,’ Sandrine called, ‘the old lady from the hilltop,’ but they didn’t seem to hear her. They ran from her as if she was going to do them harm.

  Sandrine loved the fact that her body didn’t hurt any more, she felt so light and free, but it made her feel sad that people were afraid of her. When the first glimmer of light peeped through the night sky Sandrine’s flesh began to burn.

  ‘Ouch! It’s burning!’ she said. ‘It’s nearly morning. I’d better get back to my skin!’

  Sandrine quickly flew back home but Jab was a cunning devil. While Sandrine had been away enjoying herself he had mischievously sprinkled rice all over her doorstep, knowing she would not be able to resist picking up the grains.

  When Sandrine arrived at her home she saw the rice sprinkled all over her doorstep and she was not pleased.

  ‘Who’s done this? Who’s made a mess in front of my door?’ Sandrine cried as she swooped down. ‘This will never do! I’ve got to clean it up!’ and Sandrine started to pick up the rice, grain by grain, as was her habit, counting each grain one at a time. She couldn’t help herself.

  ‘One rice grain … two rice grain … three rice grain … four … Five rice grain … six rice grain … seven rice grain … more …’ And so on.

  And as she counted the sun continued to come up. Jab watched as the skinless Sandrine counted the rice grains on her doorstep and he laughed.

  ‘I catch you, Sandrine! Daylight has caught you without your skin! Now I own you! I will let you wear your wrinkled skin in the day but at night you will be transformed into a ball of fire. And every night you will be known as Sookooyah! And you will scare all those who walk these village streets alone,’ said Jab.

  Sandrine was distraught. She couldn’t believe how foolish she had been to allow herself to be tricked by Jab, but she had made the deal with him and lost. There was no way out. She had to pay the price.

  And every night, from that day on, Sandrine shed her skin and flew about, disturbing people in their dreams and scaring those who walked the village streets alone. She even grew to enjoy her new role, laughing at those she frightened. For it was more fun than sitting alone, with her aches and pains, feeling sorry for herself and counting rice grains.

  To this day, when people walk alone through the villages late at night, it is claimed that Sookooyah, a ball of fire, can be seen flying through the darkness.

  Coupay Cord-la

  This story is based on a French Caribbean folk tale

  I have heard it said that a long time ago there was a serious famine. All the animals were hungry and had to manage on any small scraps of food they could find. At this time, Brer Rabbit and Brer Wolf were both looking after their grannies, whom they loved very much.

  ‘We really must do something or we’re all going to starve,’ said Brer Rabbit.

  ‘We are all going to die,’ said Brer Wolf, who had all but given up, ‘and there’s nothing we can do about it.’

  But Brer Rabbit would not be beaten. He thought and thought and he came up with an idea.

  ‘Brer Wolf,’ said Brer Rabbit, ‘I think I have the answer!’

  Brer Wolf was feeling weak but he managed to lift up his head to listen to what Brer Rabbit had to say.

  ‘And what is that?’ he asked.

  ‘These are desperate times,’ said Brer Rabbit, ‘and I don’t want you to think badly of me, but … I think the best thing for us to do … well, it is to eat our grannies.’

  Brer Wolf was in shock. ‘Eat our grannies! Are you out of your mind? How can we eat our elders?’

  ‘Well, my grannie has lived a long and happy life and, besides, she will be dead soon anyway so we may as well eat the meat from her bones!’

  Brer Wolf thought that Brer Rabbit had gone mad. How could anyone be so heartless as to eat their grannie? he thought. Still, days went by without food and Brer Wolf grew hungrier and hungrier. When he looked at Brer Rabbit’s grannie he started to imagine how tasty she would be on his plate.

  When Brer Rabbit came back to Brer Wolf with the same suggestion, Brer Wolf licked his lips and said he thought maybe it wasn’t a bad idea after all.

  So Brer Wolf and Brer Rabbit devised a plan. They would make dinners out of their grannies. Both Brer Wolf and Brer Rabbit cried and cried about what they were going to do, but still they did not change their minds.

  ‘I can see that you are very sad about the whole thing,’ said Brer Rabbit to Brer Wolf, ‘so, to make it easier for you, I think it is only right that we eat your grannie first so that you can get it out of the way.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you,’ wept Brer Wolf. He agreed with Brer Rabbit that his grannie should be cooked first so he could get over the heartbreak as soon as possible. They decided to cook her that very night.

  So Brer Rabbit built a fire and put a big iron pot full of water on it, and the weeping Brer Wolf captured his grannie with a big net, as was the plan, and they put her in the cooking pot.

  That evening Brer Rabbit, Brer Rabbit’s grannie and Brer Wolf had a feast. The meat from Brer Wolf’s grannie lasted for weeks between them. But, once it had all gone, Brer Wolf was hungry again.

  ‘Now it’s your turn,’ said Brer Wolf. ‘I’ll make the fire and prepare the pot of hot water while you go and capture your grannie. Here’s the net!’ he said, handing Brer Rabbit the same net he had used to capture his own grannie.

  With that, Brer Rabbit let out a big belly laugh. ‘You must be crazy if you think I am going to cook my grannie!’ he said. ‘I only said that to trick you, so I could eat some wolf meat!’

  Brer Wolf was furious. How could he have been so stupid as to believe that conniving rabbit? He had done a terrible thing. He had eaten his own grannie! He was not going to let Brer Rabbit get away with it. Brer Wolf had his eye o
n a tasty rabbit stew and Brer Rabbit’s grannie was going to be the meat. Brer Wolf was going to make sure of that! He would sleep first and then hunt her down in the morning.

  Brer Rabbit knew that Brer Wolf would want to get his own back, and so that night he secretly took his grannie out of her house and led her into the woods. Brer Rabbit found the tallest palm tree and he helped his grannie climb to the top. He gave her a basket with a cord tied to it.

  ‘When I call out to you – “Grannie! Grannie! Coupay cord-la!” – you must drop the basket down and I will put food in it for you. Then you must pull on the cord and hoist up the basket. That way you’ll get fed,’ said Brer Rabbit.

  The next morning Brer Wolf got up and went straight to Brer Rabbit’s house.

  ‘I’ve come for your grannie!’ roared Brer Wolf.

  ‘Too bad!’ Brer Rabbit yelled back. ‘She’s not here!’

  Brer Wolf tore through the house angrily, looking for Brer Rabbit’s grannie, but he couldn’t find her anywhere.

  ‘Where are you hiding her?’ he roared, but Brer Rabbit didn’t give anything away. He just laughed.

  Brer Wolf kept his watchful eye on Brer Rabbit but Brer Wolf was so weak and tired and hungry he fell asleep. When he did so, Brer Rabbit slipped away and took a few scraps of food with him. He went into the woods and all the way to the tall palm tree.

  When he got there he whispered up to his grannie, ‘Grannie! Grannie! Coupay cord-la!’ and when he did this, his grannie dropped the basket. Brer Rabbit put all the scraps of food he had found in the basket for her to eat. Then his grannie pulled on the cord and hoisted the basket up to the top of the palm tree. She ate the morsels of food that Brer Rabbit had brought for her and she drifted off to sleep.

  ‘Goodnight, Grannie,’ Brer Rabbit whispered gently and he went off back home.

  But Brer Rabbit had not noticed that he was being watched. Brer Wolf had woken up, followed Brer Rabbit into the woods and he had seen everything. Once Brer Rabbit was out of sight, Brer Wolf went over to the tree and he called up, ‘Grannie! Grannie! Shoopay colla!’