Everything did calm since Trevor get put in him place.
Mi mean… calm-calm.
Shoes a hum some random melody under him wing.
Socks perched up quiet like him learn manners.
Bubbles inna him tank, blowing bubbles like spa day just start.
Mi did just about fi close mi eye when Lady Dee get one voice note.
And mi hear it loud-loud from under di soursop tree:
“Tell di goat fi stay outta mi way — Aunty Pat soon reach, and mi allergic to foolishness!”
Mi tail drop.
Mi eye flick to Trevor.
Him already edging back toward di ackee tree, trying fi blend in wid nature.
Socks whisper,
“Who dat?”
Shoes seh,
“Mi never meet her. But mi hear seh she louder than thunder and smell like uptown market stall wid attitude.”
Trevor clear him throat and grumble,
“Mi know har. When mi was in Kingston… mi eat one skirt she lef’ on di line. Yuh woulda swear mi tief gold. Di woman chase mi two street long wid a mop stick.”
Mi bark once.
“Brace up. Town vibes coming.”
Next morning, one grey taxi pull up like it vex.
Driver pop open di trunk — and suitcase tumble out like talent show props:
- One leopard print
- One pink glitter
- One with a busted zip
- And one that look suspiciously like a blender in disguise
Then she step out.
Aunty Pat.
Hat tilted like it vote fi itself.
Sunglasses big and bold like she dodging paparazzi.
Heels clicking like them trying fi spell something.
And perfume? Strong enough to run mosquito go hide under zinc.
She step into di yard like she own title deed.
First words out her mouth?
“Mi cyaan believe unnu live like this! Goat just deh so free? And who di backside name Bubbles? The fish?!”
Trevor duck like memory hit him.
Shoes take off straight to di roof.
Socks pretend to nap on the steps like nothing concern him.
Lady Dee come out grinning, though her eye twitching just a little.
“Aunty Pat! Mi glad yuh reach safe.”
She kiss her cheek like she greeting hurricane and hoping fi mercy.
Inside, Aunty Pat fling her bag pon Lady Dee bed like she unpacking at resort.
“Mi naa sleep pon no goat-scented bed. Mi want fresh sheet, two pillow, and somewhere fi plug in mi flat iron.”
Mi bark under mi breath.
Lady Dee bend down and mutter,
“Mi nuh know if mi house ready fi she.”
Mi nod. Mi agree. Mi did try warn dem.
Aunty Pat start tour di house like she booking star rating.
She pull back curtain and squint:
“Tree limb outside mi window? Duppy entrance. That need trimming.”
She peek inna bathroom:
“Towel pon goat level?! Mi cyaan dry mi hand like mi in barn!”
And when she finally drop in di rocking chair on di verandah, she dig deep inna handbag and pull out:
- One folding fan
- A small bag of strawberry sweets
- And one giant spray bottle of Febreze
Mi whisper,
“Yeah… dis yard finish.”
By midday, di tension thick like bammy soak too long.
Bubbles looking panicky.
Shoes flapping like him have audition fi theatre.
Socks deep inna breadfruit tree, whispering psalms.
Trevor? Trevor write a short letter that seh:
“If mi disappear, Aunty Pat.”
Later, Lady Dee offer her some curry goat fi dinner.
Aunty Pat spin round, hand to chest:
“Curry GOAT?! Mi cyaan eat dat. It feel like cannibalism.”
Then she cut her eye pon Trevor.
Trevor just slowly lay down and whisper,
“Mi sorry.”
Evening breeze start come in, but still no peace.
Aunty Pat rearrange cushion like them insult her.
Fan spin in reverse.
She spray Febreze in zig-zag pon di porch step, muttering,
“Mi shifting di energy — dis place too wild.”
Trevor pack up a bundle of dasheen leaf.
Shoes land pon di roof, looking out like him waiting pon chopper.
Then di scream come:
“SLIPPERS! Somebody move mi suitcase?! MI WIG MISSING!”
Mi stiffen.
Trevor vanish behind di tank.
Socks whisper, “Trouble.”
Bubbles blow one long bubble like distress signal.
Aunty Pat burst out di room, bonnet crooked, perfume bottle swinging like judgement day.
“Mi bring mi best wig fi church tomorrow. Is WHO tek it?!”
Now remember—country dark dark.
Night lick like blackout.
Only di veranda light shining dim-dim.
Mi look over slow…
And mi see something glowing faintly.
Shoes.
Pon di bannister, just inside di light.
Wig pon him head, feathers glistening with leftover glitter.
Him look guilty.
Him look… transformed.
He blink and seh:
“Mi… mi just wanted to feel majestic.”
Mi close mi eye.
Mi cyaan witness di rest.
Aunty Pat scream like she get deliverance.
Lady Dee run out,
“Socks, gi her back di perfume too!”
Socks crawl out like lizard.
Feathers sticky.
Reeking like somebody spray mango scent on disobedience.
Mi whisper,
“This nah end good.”
🐾 By morning…
Everybody in hiding.
Trevor — under a bucket.
Shoes — inna the chicken coop.
Socks — slick down with coconut oil, pretending fi be a parrot.
Mi? Flat out like linoleum.
Aunty Pat drag out four suitcase… plus one extra nobody remember seeing.
She kiss Lady Dee and seh:
“Next time, mi booking hotel. Yuh yard fulla scandal.”
Then she look pon mi and seh:
“And Slippers… yuh a good dog. But keep yuh eye pon dat goat.”
Trevor seh,
“Mayyyyy.”
Mi still nuh sure if that was apology… or threat.
Taxi drive out.
Silence drop like breadfruit.
Mi crawl out.
Lady Dee flop in her chair.
Shoes remove di wig and whisper,
“It humbled mi.”
Socks sniff and seh,
“Mi smell like sin and strawberry.”
Trevor chew a leaf and mumble,
“If she ever come back, mi gone to live wid Miss Zilla.”
And Bubbles?
Back in his tank.
Floating in scented water — rose, Febreze, and shame.
Same mi. Same shoes.
But now wi know:
When town visit country… not even di WIG safe.
Coming Up Next:
Slippers Says – Episode 9: Scene 3
Aunty Pat Stay Fi Church
Tambourine before breakfast.
Tie-head judgement.
And one feathered testimony nobody coulda see coming.
Shoes mighta tief di wig…
But will he dodge di altar?
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