Pigeonholed.

By Elizabeth Yenni

In a tiny village, deep in the jungles of Cameroon, 16 year old Bubba Moomu lives his life of solitude and disappointment. Everyone rejects him, his parents push him to do things he doesn't feel capable of, and he just doesn't see how his hum-drum life could get any worse. Until his parents announce their departure on a long, unexpected journey.
Through raging seas, terrifying encounters, and general naivety, Bubba struggles to be himself and find his lifelong friends. The big question is, will Bubba survive the inevitable death sentence of Ebola?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Mar 29, 2016
• ISBN: 9781365003653

Book preview

Pigeonholed.

Pigeonholed.

Elizabeth Yenni

Illustrated by Tricia Butler

Acknowledgements

I’d just like to say a big thank you to everyone who directly influenced, helped form, and inspired this book. First off, the best teacher in the world, Mrs. Matthews, who helped give me advice on how to write.

And then there’s the people who inspired the whole story in the first place; my best friends, Tricia and Daniel. Turns out, just screwing around and being ourselves can end up to be the best story.

ISBN: 978-1-365-00365-3

No part of this book may be copied, reproduced, or stored by any other means without written permission by the author.

This is a work of fiction, and any reference to a particular place, person or situation, dead or living, is entirely coincidental and unintentional. The author cannot be held liable for any offensive content.

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©Copyright 2016 by Elizabeth Yenni

Daniel and Tricia,

The true Bubba and Jovi

Chapter 1

I guess I’m just not the right kind of person. I don’t fit in anywhere. Not school, not in the village, not anywhere… Except in the forest.

It’s not like I actually enjoy the forest (or jungle or WHATEVER it’s technically called) but that’s literally the only place on the face of the earth where I’m not constantly bombarded with constant criticism and hateful remarks. Where the name Bubba Moomu has a refuge…

You may wonder exactly HOW I’m constantly faced with rejection, disappointment and loneliness. Well, I’ve got my own LONG list of things. But for starters…

First off, when I was three years old, I tried to make friends with some other village children, but they could only focus on the fact that I’m white as a marshmallow while they are all… black.

I live in a small community called Chachamambua Cameroon. Population 653. And everyone… I mean literally everyone is black as coal. Except me. My parents were even puzzled when I was born white; considering both of them are black.

Then, when I started school at age 6 in our outdoor seasonal school, they all taunted me and called me a… a cracker. I ran from school that day and never went back. All I had learned was how to write my name.

All the while, village people of all shapes, sizes, and ages have pretty much COMPLETELY ignored me and told me to scram; wherever I happen to be.

So now here I sit; Alone, depressed, and downright bored. Now almost 17 and still friendless. At least I’m sitting in my favorite spot. A quiet, secluded and completely hidden jungley hideaway. Around me are a circle of trees I have made kind of a padded cubbyhole in. And then there’s me, right in the middle, plopped in a pile of the cushiest leaves I could find.

The breeze has a bit of a nip as the seventy-three degree, date of February sixth takes its toll on my hideout. Right outside, a peaceful clearing with a small pond in the middle provides all the view I need. Gorillas (really thick in this area) swing overhead and hang from the vines. If only one of them would magically morph into a person and become my friend. Oh, I can only hope…

BUBBAAAAA!!!

And THAT would be my mom, Shantina. Probably time for dinner. Hopefully we are having something besides boiled roots again. Girl, that stuff is AWFUL! I wouldn’t feed it to a dog I liked. Then again, I don’t have a dog. Or a cat, or a rabbit, or a gerbil, or a…

BUBBA WHERE ARE YOU?!?!?!

I’M COMING!!!

As I turn the corner back to civilization… or, as civilized as we get, I spot my house; a little sod one with three windows and one door. I’ve lived here my whole life. Considering how small it is, I’m lucky I have my own room. Granted it DOESN’T have a door, but… you know, I’m better off than some I guess.

I step in the front door, remove my potato-sack jacket, and immediately smell the bland scent of… you guessed it, boiled roots. The dirt floor has a rug over it that my mommy made out of some vines I brought home a couple of years ago. Burlap curtains hang over the windows.

My mom, with her long, black, curly hair tied back, leans over the fire and stirs the boiling concoction. Even doing kitchen work, I think she looks beautiful. Then she starts to stand up, and smiles really… weird at me. 

Yo’ daddy be havin’ a wonderful s’prise for you when he get home. She announces very enthusiastically.

Like what? I say, trying to act nonchalantly, but I REALLY do not like where this is going.

I won’t say ‘nother word till he be comin’ for dinner. She grins mischievously and goes to grab the pot.   

So I plop down on a wooden stool that one of our neighbors made out of some wood my daddy cut last year. They sure beat sitting on those empty crates. After all, it only seems fitting that a lumberjack’s family should have a real table and chairs.

My mom starts setting the table and Daddy bursts through the door looking exhausted, but happy. He bids us a hello and then washes up for dinner.

As I crunch through my boring food, Daddy yammers on about his day. It’s not like I don’t care or anything. It’s just that I find that kind of thing boring. So instead, I decide to focus my mind thinking about a cute little baby gorilla I saw earlier. Until…

So whatd’ya think Bub? You be wantin’ to start tomorrow then? Daddy asks.

Great. Now I have to pretend like I know what he’s talking about…

Uh… sure. Not exactly sure what I was sure about.

You c’n even borra’ my new axe!

Oh great. Not this again. This is the surprise? My parents have been wanting me to find a career. Something that I can live on when I leave. I just can’t find anything I like. Nobody’s gonna pay me big bucks for picking flowers and putting them in an arrangement for them. So my Daddy, Tyrell, has been trying to get me into lumberjacking, like him. After all, it is a big industry around here. But all those sharp objects and falling dead weights scare me. And I just don’t seem to have the same muscular build of any lumberjack I’ve ever seen. I weigh about a hundred and thirty pounds and am maybe six foot two. Everyone thinks I’m useless cuz I’m too tall and weak to fit anywhere or do any manual labor. I’ve even tried to make myself tougher, but it just DOES’NT work. So this thing that I just accidentally agreed to… yea. It could end very badly.

Chapter 2

I grip the wooden handle as Daddy shows me how to swing. Girl, this is beginning to look IMPOSIBLE. With a clean THWACK! he takes a chunk out of the side of the tree. Blickel birds flock away from us, squaking very loudly.

Jus’ like dat! Tyrell smiles like I’m NOT going to kill myself…

He leans against the cool side of a neighboring tree and gestures that it’s my turn.

I try to lift the thing like he showed me, but I end up smacking myself with the back of it instead. With a desperate swing, the side of it hits the tree and falls off the handle into the damp grass. UGGGGHHHH! I’m NEVER gonna be able to do anything.

But Daddy thinks otherwise. He hands me another one and tells me to try again.

After about three hours and at least nine axes, I finally hit the tree with the sharp part. I’m finally doing it! I’ve cut about a third of the way through! The only bad thing is, now Daddy thinks I need to enter a lumberjacking contest this weekend. Now I’m POSITIVE I’m going to kill someone.

*****

I arrive at the contest bright and early Friday morning. The smell of timber fills the town square. People’s huts line the edges of the big, dirt clearing. I’ve been training for this all week, all I have to do is hit the wood, not anything else. Ok, so I might be able to get through this without dying, but… we’ll see.

A big, muscular guy leads me to my station. There are rows and rows of logs supported by stacks of foliage and other wood. Just one axe leans on my log. The announcer stands up at the front to tell us the rules.

You each have one log an’ one axe. De point of de competition is to see who can chop through their log first. You may only use de supplies given. De first one through will receive dis bran new axe. Are ya READY?!

An ear-splitting YEA almost sends me over backwards.

GIT SET… GO!

Everyone starts hacking away, so I pick up my axe and try to get the stance and the grip right. Just as I swing, a loud whistle blows. It scares me so much I end up flinging the axe to the side and watch it fly through the air. It barely misses chopping off the head of the guy next to me. Uh oh. Now here he comes at me with HIS axe! I jump up and run faster than I’ve ever run before and soon enough find myself in my little hollow of trees.

This is where I go when I’m upset. It’s somehow calming in a way. I can just let it all go. Feel like I can regain some sanity maybe. I guess I’m just glad that I escaped with my life. But still… UGHHHH! Now maybe my parents will realize what I’ve been telling them all along… that I just can NOT do manual labor. Maybe I…

AAAAHHHHHH!!! A BUG!!!

A big blue and yellow striped bug with curly antennae and a lot of legs crawls on my lap. I try to brush it off quickly (still screaming) and then I hear it… a small, quiet voice. Coming from… the bug!

HI! squeaks the bug. My name’s Leopold. I’m a boomel beetle. Can we be friends?

Am I going crazy? Am I really sick? Mentally impaired? Or do I have some special bug radar?

Ahum! Uh… Hi? Can you hear me? Am I really talking to a…

Boomel beetle; and yes, I can hear you. Smiled Leopold.

I never knew bugs smiled before but… you know what they say, you learn something new every day! Maybe, just maybe it’s possible… maybe I CAN make a bug friend! There’s all kinds of friends you know. Things like best friends, girlfriends, there’s these things I saw in the paper called food friends… maybe there’s such a thing as a bug friend?

Um, ok we can be friends. Do you want to come over to my house and PLAY!? I ask as a grin begins to spread liberally across my face.

Okay! Can you carry me though? My legs aren’t very long.

Climb on! You know, you are the only friend I’ve ever had. I haven’t had anyone to play with since… oh never mind since when. I don’t remember. Do you want to be… oh what do they call it? BFFS? I don’t even really know what that stands for, but you know what? I really don’t care. I’m just exhilaratingly enthusiastic and joyful because I’ve always wanted a… a friend! I start to choke on upcoming tears.

I have NO idea what you just said but…okay! Leopold, my new buggy friend responds.

So we start back for home. His little legs tickle my hand. I can’t wait to show mommy! She’ll like him for sure. Now I can have a friend I can take everywhere with me and we’ll be together for EVER! I can even make a spot for him in my room and EVERYTHING!

As we burst through the door to my house, I scream.

MOMMY!!! I FINALY FOUND A FRIEND!!!! DO YOU WANT TO MEET HIM?

Then I notice both of my parents sitting at the table reading a newspaper (which is pretty rare around here. We only get a newspaper delivery every other month; so when we get one it’s like… important.) Their faces are long and concerned looking. Then my daddy stands up, takes a step towards