Lion and Deer

Hot Summer Days

Thump!

A white flash of pain crossed my eyelids as a pillow connected with my face. Eyes flying open, I shot up in bed to look accusingly at my assailant. My burning gaze fell on my younger brother standing at the entrance of my room, smirking obnoxiously. I scowled at him as I tore my earphones from my ears.

"Asher Yeboah! Do you want to die?!" My voice was threatening, but the dark skinny boy just stared back at me, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Mama says that you have to drive me to basketball practice." he replied smugly as he strolled into the room without invitation. My brow furrowed at being interrupted from my study break, but how could I say no to helping out Mama? Grudgingly, I wiggled out of my blanket cocoon, stretching as I did.

"Fine," I sighed. "Give me 5 minutes and I'll be ready."

Within exactly 7 minutes and 53 seconds, I was backing the family's beat-up black car out of the driveway with my brother squirming energetically in the passenger seat. Once we were out of our neighbourhood, I turned to my antsy passenger.

"Which court is it this week?"

"The one near Nana's old store."

Nodding, I focused back on the road. It was a beautiful day in Toronto, and I could feel my bad mood being slowly melted by the warm sunlight streaming in through the car windows. After a few minutes of pleasant silence, I reached down and turned the radio on to my favourite station. To my delight, the notes of a popular k-pop song blasted from the speakers prompting a loud groan from Asher.

"Not this again! You and your stupid addiction. You probably love BTS more than life itself."

I rolled my eyes. "You're in no place to talk, Asher, especially when I'm driving you to a practice for the sport you practically eat, sleep and breathe."

 My critic merely scoffed. "If you were my Uber driver, I would have left you a one star rating by now."

He reached out and turned off the radio.

Havengrove Park was a familiar place for us. In the good old days, when things were better for my family, we used to come there for picnics on Saturday afternoons in the summertime. Mama, Dada and the three of us kids would sit on a blanket under the large oak tree in the far corner of the park to escape the stifling heat. We'd hang out together- talking, laughing and eating Mama's homemade jollof.

Once the boys were done eating, they would get up and walk over to the basketball court at the far end of the park, and shoot hoops with Dada.

I loved watching them from my spot under the oak tree. Laying back on the soft grass, I'd take off my flip flops so I could feel the grainy earth between my toes. The ground was speckled with dandelions; yellow heads popping out of the fresh grass almost as if they were greeting me.

That was three years ago.

Now, as I pulled up in front of the park, I could see a young couple sitting under the tree with their toddler. I watched enviously at the way the father loving stroked his daughter's blond curls and both parents laughed as she pulled a funny face.

Asher's impatient voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Did you hear me, 'Boo? Mama says that you need to come with me and collect some dried fish and okra stew from Auntie Liz."

Liz was one of Mama's Jamaican friends. Her son was on the same basketball team as Asher, so she often attended practices. As my brother's occasional chauffeur, I sometimes ended up playing delivery driver for the special groceries she'd bring for my mother.