Aunty Kate's Short Stories

By Catherine Dorsette

Aunty Kates Short Stories take you on an exciting adventure into the lives of some very memorable characters. Though from diverse places and backgrounds, their mischievous acts, sleuthing skills, humility and bedside manner will remind readers of the values of good neighborliness, kindness and honesty.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Sep 16, 2014
• ISBN: 9781496991256

Catherine Dorsette

Catherine Dorsette is the mother of two young adults. She is affectionately dubbed 'mommy' and 'Aunty' by many young people both in her church and in the community. The proud grand-mother of a precious little granddaughter, her love for and work with young people has made her a dynamic Youth Leader in her church. Employed at the Department of Youth Affairs in the Ministry of Education, she is currently reading for her Bachelor's Degree in Social Work. Mrs. Dorsette and her family reside on the beautiful island of Montserrat in the Caribbean.

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Aunty Kate’s

Short Stories

Catherine Dorsette

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AuthorHouse™ UK Ltd.

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403 USA

www.authorhouse.co.uk

Phone: [phone]

© 2014 Catherine Dorsette. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 09/12/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4969-9124-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-9125-6 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Acknowledgement

The Boy’s Story

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Epilogue

The Shy Carib

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Allan’s Adventure

Benjie’s Revenge

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Cloudburst

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Why Am I Digging That Hole?

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Secrets On A Plane

Old Mr. Mcgregor

The Paid Off Risk

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

The Curfew

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Another Chance

For my wonderful Prince and Princesses:

Nathaniel and Nathalia & Nathalie Durand

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Heartfelt love and appreciation to Almighty God for the gift which He has given me which has brought about this publication, my husband for his love and support, my friend and former colleague Randy Felix for his critism, Mommy Sarita Francis for her support and Justice Irvin Andre for his analysis of my work and his encouragement.

A very special ‘thank you’ to Mr. Victor James for his generous support of this publication.

THE BOY’S STORY

PROLOGUE

San Sauvier is a small village nestled between Petite Soufriere and Good Hope in Dominica. Nothing went unnoticed there. Therefore when ten-year-old Samuel ‘Sammy’ Laurent returned home one Sunday morning with his clothes all tattered and dirty, he became the talk of the village; everyone speculated on what could have happened to him.

Ok, ok, said a plumb old lady affectionately known as ‘Tanty’; let de chyle tell wha’ ‘appen ‘imself. Sammy was led to a high-backed, wooden chair and given a drink of cool water from a nearby ghaut. One could have heard a flea fall off a dog’s ear as the villagers quietly, yet anxiously awaited the boy’s story …

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CHAPTER ONE

Every day ten-year old Sammy would wake up at 6:30 in the morning and the first thing he did was his devotions. He had been taught by his parents Mr. and Mrs. Kurt Laurent that he should always put God first and he did. After devotions he went into the yard to do his chores. He liked to sweep the big yard which more often than not was strewn with fallen leaves from the tall Kenipp tree standing in the middle of it with the kocoyea broom. Sammy could hardly restrain himself, caught up in thoughts of going to his grandparents’ farm in Good Hope a mile and a half away.

By the time the bell from the church chimed 7:00am Sammy was finished with his work. Piling the leaves high he went in search of a large garbage bag. Usually, Sammy never left the yard unless he had rolled and jumped into the leaves several times; but not today. Today was Sunday, that day he visited his dear, old grandparents.

Already Sammy could almost hear ‘Pa’, as he called his grandfather, calling for the troublesome dog Sparks who oftentimes went visiting the neighbouring farms early in the morning. Pa always told Sammy that he was certain that Sparks was visiting so early because Mr. Hoffmann, an old German who had lived in Good Hope for the past twenty five years, gave him raw eggs to eat.

Dat man will make Sparks get wild, Pa always complained, but he never did anything about it. Sammy suspected that Pa was getting as old as his daddy said he was. His father always says: ’the old man just loves to let you know he is there. He is a kind soul really.’

With his chores completed, Sammy bathed and changed into his Sunday best. His curly black hair was nicely combed. He was such a handsome lad! He had a straight, patrician nose, typical of the San Sauvier people who are of Carib Indian origin; clean, white teeth in a mouth framed by full lips. His eyes were light brown, and complimented his very light brown complexion. His brown shoes were polished to a shine, the way his grandfather loved to see them. There was no mistaking that Sammy was going somewhere special. He had a certain air about him; an air which spoke volumes.

When Sammy left his parents’ home riding his blue and white bicycle, no one was surprised. In fact, they would have been had he not come riding by in his Sunday best at that particular time.

As he rode past he waved to his friends and said a jolly ‘good mornin’’ to the adults along the way. Soon Sammy was out of sight of the villagers, passing the bridge, which officially marked the exit point of San Sauvier.

However, today as Sammy rode along the familiar, old dusty path, something felt different. The pleasure of the trip was beginning to fade. It was overshadowed by something else, something he could not quite put his finger on. He kept looking over his shoulder at the tall grass and trees. He could not lift the premonition of dread that settled over him like a dark, wet blanket. He shivered slightly, and began to pedal even faster, the bells on his bike making a loud jingling sound as he tried to escape the invisible threat.

Then it happened!

There was a shrill cry from the bushes. It was so sudden that Sammy fell off his bike. Startled out of his wits, Sammy picked himself up and just stood there nervously waiting for something terrible to happen to him …

As the boy drew in a deep breath, the villagers sat in awe, unable to breathe as they imagined all kinds of horrors.

CHAPTER TWO

Then he heard it again. Suddenly, of their own volition, his feet propelled him forwards towards the sound. As Sammy rushed through the bush, not knowing what he was looking for, the tall grass scratched his face and hands. Once or twice he fell, tearing his pants and bruising the palms of his hands on the rough ground. But