Granny's House

Behind Granny’s house, I see all kinds of fantastic creatures. She has a stone fountain with an archer boy in it, and around that a patch of marigolds bloom, tall grass goes to the end of the garden, where taller flowers stand, like green men in strange and wonderful hats.

I like to sit in the uncomfortable iron chair by what Granny calls the Picnic Table and watch the woods. Granny’s house is on a little bit of a hill, and at the bottom, beyond those taller wildflowers, there is a stream, and I see many strange animals go to it every day.

It is a Friday today, and I’ve just finished school. The school bus that takes us up, up, up the mountain’s dirt roads is noisy and the other kids are mean, but I know that when I get back to Granny’s house I’ll be able to sit outside in her backyard and watch the butterflies and the birds and have a nice cool glass of water. The other kids want to burn something over the weekend.

I think of all the things I have seen:

On a Monday I saw a white nosed coati. It bumbled about in the dirt on the other side of the stream with its nose to the ground, and then it looked up and directly at me, the white markings on its face made it appear surprised. Its tail was long and muscular, like a snake.

On Tuesday I was sitting in the chair when I heard a rustle in the branches of the Fire of Pakistan above me. I looked up and saw a curious little cat called a margay, hiding shyly among the scarlet blooms. It had the most enormous eyes.

On Wednesday I saw nothing but birds: a white throated swift zipped past above me, a fulvous whistling duck bobbed down the stream, a maroon-chested ground dove cooed somewhere, a squirrel cuckoo waited in the branches of a walnut tree to do something heinous, a limpkin stalked through the rushes on long legs at some point, and I even saw a king vulture soaring high and regal near the sun.

On Thursday I met another one of those animals that talks.

The school bus drops me off at the long trail uphill to Granny’s house, crowded by ferns and with the dark bulk of the rainforest looming all around.

“Ana is going to get married to the forest!” A boy yells out the window as the bus hisses and coughs and trundles away. I hear laughter echo down the road. Boys are so stupid.

It is a long and twisting path to Granny’s house, and you should be ready to be swatted at by all kinds of green things. Follow the little dirt lane until you reach the stairs in the woods. When you see a wooden statue of an animal you’ll know that you are there, but you shouldn’t look at it for too long—that’s why I can’t describe to you exactly what kind of thing it is, I’m smarter than that.

Go up, up, up the stairs and you’ll reach a little stone archway. You have to close your eyes when you pass under it. Those are the rules. Granny’s rules.

After that the path is straight with no end in sight, and you need to be brave and keep walking forward no matter how lost you begin to feel, even if the rainforest grows around you and you hear strange noises in the bushes; keep looking forward and believe that you will make it to Granny’s house. It’s very important that you believe.

I follow the twists and turns, go up the stairs without looking at the wooden statue of the animal, believe for a very long time in a very straight line, and then finally reach the old, mossy stone bridge that goes over the dell full of all kinds of mushrooms, that little stream that made a moat around Granny’s house winding through the middle of it.

The sunlight comes in here, through the break in the woods, and shines down on Granny’s house straight ahead on its little hill.

I hold my breath as I cross the bridge, of course. That is another of Granny’s rules.

Granny’s house is covered in moss and creepers and all kinds of flowers, you might even think it was empty if you did not see it at night, when candlelight glowed up in Granny’s window; the roof was sloping and the red bricks were old and worn, and the wood frame of the porch was rotting apart, but you’d be wrong to think that I didn’t live there with Granny.

I throw my school bag down inside and sit on the red couch in the living room, watching the sun light up dust motes in the air. My bare feet feel the sandy floor. I close my eyes.

“Hello Ana, how was school?” I open my eyes and see Miba, the mantled howler monkey, perched on the coathanger along with Granny’s many hats in the corner of the room, his long black tail curled around one of Granny’s coats.

Granny still has rules for in the house, or on the little hill. One of the rules is: don’t talk to anything with bigger and sharper teeth than you. Miba has sharp teeth, but they’re so very small, so I made friends with him.

I say, “It was boring, Miba, how was your day?”

He swings off the coathanger and hangs from the curtains. “It was very exciting. An eagle came today.”

“Oh?”

“She spoke to Granny, but I didn’t overhear much of their conversation.” He hooted.

“Where is Granny?”

“Up in her room right now. She’s very busy.”

I nod. Usually, Granny is very busy. “I’m hungry.”

In the kitchen, I find Pu the yellow-headed gecko sunbathing on the stone table, and Cus the snowy egret bathing in the sink. “Hello, Ana.” They both say.

Since birds don’t have teeth, and if geckos do then they are very small, I reply, “Hello Pu, hello Cus.”

“An eagle was here.” Cus says, from under his wing as he prunes his feathers.

“I’ve heard.”

“Very self-important seeming. Such a stiff feathered lot, really—who could stand them? She talked with the lady upstairs for the better part of an hour.”

“Did you hear anything?”

“Oh yes, the eagle had some dire news, truly, some very dire news. There is a jaguar somewhere very close to us.”

“A jaguar!” I exclaim. I remember the conversation I had just yesterday, with an animal whose voice I did not at all recognize.

“Hello.” The voice purred out from the bushes.

I squinted, but could not see it. It was hiding in the taller grass, and I did not want to leave my uncomfortable iron chair near the backdoor. “Hello?”

“Are you a parrot or a girl? I just said that.”

“What kind of animal are you?”

The bushes rustled. “Animal? How should you know I’m not a person?”

“People don’t hide in the bushes.”

“Obviously, you’ve never met a rapist. What’s your name?”

“Ana. What’s yours?”

“Ana… what a pretty name.”

No one had ever said that to me before. “Do you really think so?”

“Oh yes. It sounds positively delicious.”

I ran inside after that, too scared to continue talking with the bushes.

“Well,” I say to Cus, “I do hope he leaves.”

“Wouldn’t count on it. They’re a loitering bunch.”

At night I am sitting in the backyard with the fireflies all about, talking to a glowworm beetle named Dagary. We are sitting by the marigolds when I hear a growl from the bushes. At first I mistake the two glowing eyes for a pair of fireflies, then they move together as the black panther comes into the light.

“Hello Ana.” He says.

I stand up. “You’re that jaguar!”

“Come on Ana,” Dagary says, from his perch on one of the marigolds, “let’s get inside fast!”

But the panther bounds through the air and comes between me and Granny’s house. “You’re right.” He says, prowling towards me. “And you let me in.”

“No I didn’t!” I hide behind my iron chair, not very confident it will protect me.

“You shouldn’t talk to things with bigger and sharper teeth than you.”

“Stay back!”

He smiles, showing all his teeth. They are far bigger and far sharper than mine. “You’re still doing it.” He pounces. I scream. But before he can hit me, Miba tackles him out from the air. They scramble for a moment on the ground, then Miba hoots in pain and scurries up the Fire of Pakistan, then onto the roof of Granny’s house.

“Stupid monkey!” The jaguar roars. “I’ll eat you!” On powerful legs it springs up onto the roof of the house, and I watch in disbelief as the two dark shapes chase each other around up there, just shadowy blurs blending into the night sky. Miba hoots and hollers the whole while. Finally, the howler monkey leaps off from the roof and lands heavily in my arms, knocking me to the ground. Then the black panther bounds off with dangerous grace, and stalks towards us.

I close my eyes.

“What is all this commotion about?” Suddenly Granny is there in the back doorway, her hands on her hips, light from the house floods into the night from around her.

Miba points a finger at the jaguar. “He was trying to eat me, Granny! And Ana too!”

I get up and run to Granny, bursting into tears and flinging my arms around her skirt. “It’s true Granny, it’s true! He would’ve eaten me if Miba hadn’t saved me! I should never have talked to him but I didn’t know!”

She gives the jaguar a disapproving look. “You are a jaguar.”

The panther snarls at her. “I am.”

“And is this true? You were trying to eat Miba and Ana?”

“Well, there’s no proof of that.”

“Yes there is!” I cry. “He tried to eat me Granny he did! It’s true!”

“Shut up!” The panther snarls. “So what if I tried to eat you, you invited me here in the first place.”

“And now I am telling you that you may leave.” Granny says, and there is power in her voice. “Go. Back into the night with you.”

Fireflies dot the air around us. “Yeah, get lost!” I hear Dagary say.

“Go away!” Miba yells. “Find someone else to eat!”

The panther growls. “Quit your whimpering! Old woman, I could crush your skull between my jaws!”

I look up at Granny. Ordinarily she has gray hair and looks old, but sometimes if you look from the right angle, or catch her in the right lighting at the right time of day, she can look as young and beautiful as Ms. Morales, who teaches us math at school. Right now she looks like that. Her back is straight and strong, she puts a hand on my shoulder and she nods. “I do not doubt that, you are the Jaws of the Rainforest.” That seems to placate the jaguar somewhat. Granny shakes her head. “But this is not the rainforest. You do not belong here. Please go home.”

“But the monkey and the girl can stay?”

“They stay in peace.”

“I am peaceful.”

Granny smiles knowingly. “Sir, your fangs betray you.”

“Fine!” Growls the panther. “Keep your safe space!” He turns and begins to hunt back towards that stream, a line of black ink in the night, enchanted by the luminance of all the glowing insects.

“Thank you.” Granny says. I can hear relief and exhaustion in her voice.

“Don’t come back!” Miba shouts.

The black panther turns one last time, to look at me. “I’ll be waiting girl. Come into the woods sometime. We can chat some more.”

Then he’s gone. For a while longer, I cry into Granny’s arms.

On Saturday, I see a white ibis.