The tree in my dreams.

I had stayed too long playing at my cousins' house.

He was my favorite cousin.

Today we had climbed and eaten the Pomeracs off the tree in my backyard. We had sat and swayed on the branches in the wind.

He always made me laugh. He loved to make me laugh.

One time he had made me laugh so hard I threw up spaghetti from my nose. Walking to his house after climbing down from the tree, I said “Remember the time a big ole cockroach landed on my head and I jumped out the window head first. You caught me by my ankle. You cussed me but I figured it was okay since I almost died.” He’d nodded.

I was having an end of life experience.

I had stayed too long.

Dusk was here; and I was running and screaming for my life because the dead were following me. The cicadas were cheering me on or laughing. The bats were flying low to get a better view.

I could see the two-story-tall Christmas pine tree at the front of the house all the way down the road.

The maxi Taxi driver knew when I said “ by the big pine tree” where to stop. It was the marker for everyone in the village. It was my marker.

My house had no number. No house did; because this was Los Bajos on the stretch, south Trinidad.

Right now, my home seemed like two villages away instead of four houses down. I should have listened and left at five. My grandmother was right I was too harden. I didn't listen. Oh my god, they were right behind me.

The bushes rustled.

I jumped.

It was a Jumbie. I ran faster into a hail of barking. Christ! The crazy Doberman was out for the night. The fear had grown as large as the looming night. It was on three sides now. One creeping slowly behind me. One to the side in the dark and one before me promising to tear me limb from limb. I hated that dog.

Where were all the busybodies? Not one in sight to mind my business. No witness or salvation. It was past six and Panorama; the nightly news was on, it was time for them to see the news and steups about it all the next day.

The dog was going to eat me, the Jumbie would take my form and the dead would take my soul. It was a done deal I was going tonight for sure. I was screaming and running.

The orange streaks in the sky was now purple and the flip flops broke. I left it. The dog threw himself against the fence, threatening and cussing me as he tried to climb the chain-link gate.

My plan----; was to head for the ditch with the black stink muck if he made it. I zoomed past. Please, God. Please, I prayed. I’ll go to church and not grumble, please - just let me live. I had to keep running.

The dead people were still behind me, getting closer.

I thought about Gail Hospedales; and how she came first in every race at games time. I was always coming in third. This was why I was going to die. If I were Gail I’d be home by now. I couldn’t give up. I had to run like Gail. One more house. Miss Wren. Then home. The street lights came on. Her house was dark. No one was home.

I was getting tired.

The tree, the tree.

My walkway was just a few more breaths and the crunch from the tires on the road behind me was closing in. The porch light flicked on, the front door was opened. I ran screaming as I made the turn in. “ What you making all that noise for? What happened? What Happened?” I sprinted up the stairs screaming “The hearse, the hearse, behind me”. I pointed toward the street and we watched the hearse crawl by. “ Girl! That's all? Serves you right. You don’t listen”. She hugged me as she chided. “I missing my news. Go wash up. Next time I say five, come home at five”.

Tomorrow Hayden and I are going to spy on Miss. Lou Lou; the woman on the hill across the street next to the savannah. We know she’s a Soucouyant and we going to look for proof.

I still see the tree in my dreams.