Ebony Grace and the Yellow Fruit
This is installment #17 in my several-part series, Shit I Wrote a While Ago. I know this title sounds pretty gay, but trust me, most of it is like the Japanese restaurant scene from Kill Bill. This was my second McCaig from 5th grade, aka 1996.
Ebony Grace and the Yellow Fruit
“Ebony. Ebony Grace,” Hillary, my extremely annoying little sister, whispered into my ear.
“Hillary,” I complained, “it’s three in the morning. Go back to sleep.”
Hillary climbed reluctantly off my bed and pattered through the hall of our just-built beach house. I smiled and closed my eyes. Hillary was gone. For now.
“Ebony?” Hillary was back.
I cautiously opened one eye. “What?” I asked, quite annoyed.
“Let’s go play in Coral Cove. It’s real pretty there.” There was no use in sending Hillary back to bed. I sat up.
“Okay, Hillary,” I agreed. “But you’ll have to stay with me. No wandering off.”
Hillary nodded in agreement. “No wandering.”
Coral Cove was a beautiful lagoon not far from our beach house. It had exotic flowers and luscious fruit trees. There was a waterfall, and of course, coral reefs. It was paradise.
“Wow, Ebony!” Hillary exclaimed as we reached the dark lagoon. “The sun!” Sure enough, the sun was beginning to rise, slowly bathing Coral Cove in light. We watched in amazement as the sun rose high over Parakeet Island.
“Let’s swim,” Hillary suggested.
“Okay,” I agreed. “Wait for me.” We ripped off our bathing suit cover-ups [ed. note: HOTTTTT] to reveal matching swim team bathing suits. We dove in. The water was clear and refreshing in the hot morning sun. We swam and played, picked fruit and flowers, and finally decided to go under the waterfall. The ice-cold water showered down on us as we swam around under it. It was fantastic.
At one point, when the sun was at its peak in the sky, Hillary suggested, “Let’s have lunch.” I agreed to it. we unpacked a picnic basket I had filled before we left. I had pre-heated egg-drop soup and seaweed crackers, while Hillary had a PB&J sandwich and a banana. We both spring water to drink. I smiled as I lay on my back in the warm sun. Getting a beach house on Parakeet Island was the best idea my parents had ever had. I loved it here.
“Ebony?” HIllary interrupted my thoughts. “I’m going to go get some flowers for Mom.”
“Alright,” I approved. “But be careful. The rocks can get slippery.”
Hillary nodded, then took off.
I pulled a book out of the picnic basket. I read it until a dark shadow loomed over me. I put the book away and looked up. “Hillary?” I guessed.
“Hi, Ebony,” she replied, and plopped down on the grass beside me. “I found some fruit. It’s real good.” She broke off a piece of the juicy yellow fruit and offered it to me.
“No, thanks,” I refused. “I’m full from lunch.”
Hillary shrugged her slender shoulders and handed me a small bouquet of flowers. “Take these to Mom,” she ordered. “I’m going to get more of this for later.” She took off in the direction of a small tree dotted with yellow fruit. I took the picnic basket and headed for our beach house.
Hillary didn’t return home till late that night. We were just sitting down to dinner.
“I’m home!” Hillary announced triumphantly.
“Why, Hillary,” Mom smiled, “you brought fruit!”
And did she ever! Hillary had filled both of our bathing suit cover-ups with the weird yellow fruit.
“We’ll have it with whipped cream for dessert. Thanks, sweetie.”
Hillary beamed and sat down to dinner. After the table had been cleared, Dad set out a plate with the strange yellow fruit and a bowl of Cool Whip. Immediately, Hillary grabbed for a piece of fruit. She practically covered it in Cool Whip.
“Woah, there,” Dad chuckled. “It’s too bad you guys don’t go for meatloaf like that!” He grinned.
“Ha ha, Dad, funny,” Hillary sneered at him[, knowing we were far too immature to really appreciate Bat Out of Hell yet.]
Mom took some fruit and handed a piece to Dad. “Here, honey, have some fruit.”
“Thanks,” Dad responded, taking a big bite of the fruit.
“Do you want any, Ebony?” Mom asked me.
“No, thanks,” I replied. “I’m not feeling well.”
Mom felt my forehead. “You’re a little warm. Better get up to bed,” she advised.
I was lying in bed, reading, when I heard Mom scream. Dad gasped.
“Hillary!” Mom wailed. “My poor, poor baby!”
“I’ll, uh, call an ambulance,” I heard Dad mumble.
I sat up on my bed. Maybe the plague was spreading through the South Pacific. I figured I better stay where I was.
“Ebony!” Mom cried. “Ebony has it!”
With this, I knew I better go downstairs and see what was the cause of this sudden uproar.
“Mom?” I called quietly.
“Oh, Ebony!” Mom cried. “You’re alive!”
I raised an eyebrow at my hysterical mother. “Yes,” I agreed, “I am alive.”
“Honey, get in the car,” Mom ordered calmly. “Daddy will take you to the mainland by ferry. Right now a helicopter is coming for Hillary. She is very sick.”
I went out to the garage and climbed into the car next to Dad. We didn’t hear any news from the doctor for two hours. Then he told us some extremely shocking news:
“Hillary,” he began, “your beloved-“
“Or not-” I mumbled.
“Daughter and sister, is… has… um… passed away,” he finished quickly. [ed. note: Worst. Bedside manner. Ever. Plus I bet Ebony feels bad for saying she didn’t love her sister now! Cunt.]
Mom fainted. She just fell from her frozen position on the hard hospital chair and fell.
“Did your wife eat any fruit?” the doctor asked Dad.
“Yes,” Dad replied, rubbing his stomach. “It was good.”
“You had some, too?” the doctor asked, eyebrows raised. Dad nodded.
“Sir,” the doctor said quite calmly, “you are going to die. Your wife already has.” [ed. note: Okay, that’s hilarious.]
My mouth dropped to the floor. “Will I?” I asked, almost afraid he would say no.
“Did you have any fruit?”
I shook my head sadly.
“You won’t then.” [Not ever.] “The fruit is poisonous, you see. If you eat it, you will die.” He said it so simply, so calmly. That was it. My whole family was going to die. I could do nothing.
I slept soundly that night, except for one moment when Dad woke me. “I will go now,” was all he said. Then I fell back asleep.
I went to my family’s funeral the next day. The priest spoke, but I paid no attention. Somehow, I thought I could prevent their deaths. Keep them for just a little bit longer. But no. Now I stood, watching their lifeless bodies being lowered into the ground. The holes were filled. Everyone left. I, too, walked down the narrow cobblestone path to the immense iron gates. I didn’t cry. I hadn’t cried since we got to Parakeet Island. But I would never come here again. And I would never leave. I walked away from the cemetery, my black skirt brushing against my bare legs. I broke into a run, faster and faster. At last, I reached Coral Cove. All the beautiful things around me were a blur. I only saw the yellow fruit tree. I took a piece of the yellow fruit in my hand and took a big bite. I swallowed. It was good.
The End
The last paragraph (and, if I’m being honest, probably this entire story) was obviously largely inspired by the flashback sequences in Batman Forever, which came out maybe this year or the year before. Besides that, I don’t have too many problems with this story. It’s odd to me that Ebony would be making jokes about her sister’s obviously serious illness, especially since they were playing together happily for the better part of that day. Maybe it’s her coping mechanism? I don’t know. Other than that, though, and the ridiculous dopiness of her dad, this story isn’t too bad. Maybe like a B+
