networds

Formerly Worktown Words

My First by Barbara Holden

I knew there was something up when Mary wasn’t waiting on the school boiler house steps. Normally she would be there first and we would share our playground snacks, mine was usually an apple or a cut orange if the market stall holder was being generous. Today she was hiding at the bottom of the yard out of sight and looking intently at something in her hands.

Curiosity got the better of me, sauntering up and trying to appear uninterested I said, “Wotcha got?”

She didn’t answer just tried to hide the object under her cardigan.

“I’m not going until you show me what that thing up your jumper is.”  Sheepishly Mary drew the thing out.

“Gordon Bennett! What’s that!”  I yelled.

 “It’s a banana!” she replied, “Mi auntie sent it from Plymouth. She said it’s a treat.”

“Can you eat it?”

“Yeah! I think so! I’m just wondering how to get in it.”

“Give it here.” Holding my hand out she reluctantly handed the banana over.

I turned it around in my hands. It smelled like no other fruit. It was yellow as an egg yolk and smooth, so smooth.

There was no way she was getting it back until I’d had a taste I put that banana into my mouth, skin and all and chewed. I tasted sunshine and summertime and flowers exploding onto my taste buds and wanted more, I wanted another bite but grabbing for the banana Mary shouted,

 “Give it mi back!”  “You’ ll squash it.”

Handing back the foreshortened banana to a wailing Mary I felt a little guilty so I said,

“Sorry! I’ll save you mi apple stump!”