Free Katani's Jamaican Holiday by Annie Bryant

Olivia?”
    My mouth dropped open. How did a blind lady know it was my cousin? Immediately we heard barking, and coming around the house was a small, black and white, scruffy-looking dog.
    “Run!” Olivia said, and for the second time in two days I found myself running away from an animal. This vacation was turning out to be way different from what I’d expected—first a banana war, and now an old witch.
    We slowed to a walk before we caught up with the adults, who had already entered the churchyard. Cousin Cecil looked at us suspiciously, but Olivia murmured, “I have to go,” and quickly left us to join her group. “Thanks!” I yelled after her. Both Cousin Cecil and Grandma Ruby stared at me like they knew something was up. I just put up my hands and said, “What?” like nothing was wrong.
    Alleluia!
    In Brookline, we attend the Episcopal church, which they call “Anglican” in Jamaica. Our service is very formal, with everybody sitting and listening politely. Olivia’s church was like a different planet! Everybody stood and swayed while the choir sang a bunch of lively gospel songs. And there was no passion organ here—the music was played on a keyboard, with two guitars and a drum set. This way it seemed more like a concert than a church service! I loved the way the music got everybody moving and singing. The youth choir led some of the singing, and they were really good. You go, girl! I thought with pride, watching Olivia do her thing at the center of the group.
    I didn’t know any of the songs, so I mostly kept quiet,but they repeated them several times and since the words were projected on a screen we could all see, Grandma Ruby soon joined in, just like on the veranda at Cousin Cecil’s house. It seemed she was determined to participate in every little bit of this experience of being in Jamaica. I was content with just clapping. I didn’t want to subject anyone to the horribleness of my singing voice. Once, when I was singing at a sleepover back in Boston, my friend Avery grabbed two pillows and clapped them to the sides of her head. It was that bad.
    When the pastor welcomed new faces, Selvin nudged me. Grandma was on her feet almost instantaneously, and I slowly rose up next to her, feeling embarrassed. Everybody in the church was staring at us as the pastor introduced us as relatives of the Palmer family. The crowd clapped and murmured about us, and Grandma looked around and smiled graciously. No doubt about it, she was enjoying herself. I could see Olivia grinning at me from the choir, and I tried to stand up straight to make a good impression on everybody. Good thing I was wearing that blue dress.
    Then, a big surprise came for everyone. “We have another very important visitor,” the pastor announced, “who has made a generous contribution to our expansion fund. Will you stand up, Mr. Biggs?” The Mr. Biggs?! I heard Grandma’s sharp intake of breath. The church clapped loudly as he stood up with his back to us, and I angled my head to try to get a better look at him. He was a thin, tall man and looked very imposing in a light brown suit.
    When he finally turned around to face us, it was my turn to gasp. It was the same tall man in the cowboy hat I had seen in the airport! Had he been spying on us? What a nerve that man had, trying to get the secret of Banana Bliss. I sawGrandma Ruby had on her Queen of England look, which made me put my head up as well.
    The choir began singing again, and I tried to forget about Mr. Biggs and Banana Bliss and the cowboy hat, instead, focusing on the music. Olivia had some solo parts. I was so proud. That girl had a voice as big as Texas! When the choir did a number that was accompanied by congo drums, they sang the chorus in the patois to a reggae beat:
    “Ah fi mi pickney dese
    Ah fi mi pickney dem
    Mi mek dem in mi image
    Mi love dem and look out fi dem
    Ah fi mi pickney dese.”
    I had no idea what they were singing, but the choir had the whole church