Excerpt from Before the Mango Ripens by Afabwaje Kurian, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"Dr. Landry's making something! Like a ship in a bottle." 

Jummai did not know what the boy was talking about with ships inside of bottles. 

"I'm gonna ask him when he gets back."

"You won't say anything to him, Elijah. I don't want to ever see you here again playing with these bottles. Cover the thing. Now."

Elijah sank to the ground and dug his hands into the dirt he had shoveled out.

He was not as sharp as Allison. He would soon forget the bottles. He would only think Jummai had spoiled his game. To be certain, she added, "Don't go running your mouth, or you'll be in trouble with me. Are you hearing me?"

"But Jummai, what if—"

"Did you hear me?"

He groaned, "I won't," and buried the bottles quickly. 

1

Jummai noticed what Nami wore when she walked through the gates of the mission compound to tutor Elijah. Last week, Nami had worn a blouse and wrapper; the material had been orange with blue squares. Today she wore a white blouse tucked into a green and yellow striped skirt that grazed her knees. Around her neck was a thin cord of fabric like a man's tie, silky and striped green and yellow like her skirt. Nami dressed in simple fashions, and apart from the same pair of small gold earrings, Jummai never saw her wearing any other jewelry.

The more Nami came to the Parsons' house to help Elijah with his school assignments, the more Jummai understood why Zanya had decided to marry this woman. She talked to Jummai as if they were friends. She asked after her sisters and brothers, remembering all of their names, telling her about Yakwo, who she said was a smart boy, if only he would apply himself instead of misbehaving. Nami also did not like Jummai to do things for her. If Jummai said, "Let me go and bring water for you to drink," Nami would say, "No, I am fine. Let me get it myself." 

Jummai served them the yam porridge on the back porch with a glass bottle of "catchup," as Elijah called the red American sauce he liked to pour on his meals. They finished the full amount in their bowls, and Elijah, who said porridge was "yucky" and wrinkled his nose at the smell of crayfish, ate all of it and begged for more.

Jummai knew her food was good. Miss Delores had once come to her family's compound to speak with Jecinda, and because Jecinda had not yet returned from the clinic, Miss Delores had talked to Jummai, asking her what she would do if she did not have to work at the Parsons'. 

"I wan open restaurant," Jummai had said. "I don't know if it will happen."

"Nonsense, Jummai," Miss Delores said. "I believe you could. I see it now. You'll have a thriving business, and you'll hire others to work for you. You can absolutely do it."

"Ah, Mai Mulo, I don't know."

She could sell food like the women who sold meals in their houses with benches for people to sit and eat. Maybe this is what she would do if her mother and Tin City allowed her to use their house. She had said this to Miss Delores.

"No, Jummai," Miss Delores had said, "I won't hear of it. 

You'll have your own restaurant. Raise half of the money, and I'll see if I can find the other half. How about it?"

The money she saved from the Parsons was not simply for her to find a place to live without her family, but so that she might have enough to open a restaurant. 

From the kitchen window that looked out into the backyard, Jummai studied how Nami tilted her head and said in a firm voice, "Try again, Elijah."

This was what Zanya wanted: a woman who said things like "try again." She wondered what Nami might have done about the bottles Elijah found. Would she have confronted Dr. Landry or gone and announced it to Malama Delores or shut her mouth like Jummai? She knew the answer already. Nami would not have kept quiet about such a thing. She spoke to these missionaries as if they were her mates.

Excerpted from Before the Mango Ripens by Afabwaje Kurian. Copyright © 2024 by Afabwaje Kurian. Excerpted by permission of Dzanc Books. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.