By Liana Metal
I was about five and my sister, Kate , was fourteen. I was aconstant nuisance to her and she always had to hide her personalthings such as books and candies from me. Sometimes I was goodenough to track them down and place them elsewhere , to Kate'soutmost dismay of course! Our mom used to take my side:
"She's only a baby, don't be mean!" she would say to furiousKate.
But Kate was adamant.
"If she does that again I'll beat her up!"
To tell you the truth, I was a bit afraid of her, as she wastall, fat and strong, while I was so thin and frail. I dared notconfront her when mom was not around. She knew that and shecalled me 'coward' . We were in a constant battle. However, Iwas not always the winner. There were times when mom lost herpatience with me and just screamed:
"Be quiet, don't touch her books, hear me?" Then I was nice andpolite.
But the next moment I had he chance to discover a new treasure,I forgot all about good manners and I was back in messing Kate'sbelongings up.
Sometimes though, Kate was really nice to me. I did notunderstand why, just took it for granted . Just like the day mommade her best-loved fig jam.
I forgot to mention that Kate was an avid food lover, and shehad a sweet tooth as well. August is the month of ripe figs inGreece. Every year mom used to buy a large amount of figs andmade the family's favorite dessert: fig jam.
I was not interested in this jam, not in any other jam in theworld, but Kate was . She was actually a great fan of mom'scooking endeavors. She smelt the aroma of the freshly made jamand tried to locate the cupboard mom stored the jars.
"Don't you dare touch the jam!" Mom warned Kate. "It's for thewinter. " But she gave her just a little jar to comfort her.
"This will do for the time being!" mom said.
Kate sighed but she had to obey. The small jar was soon emptyand Kate tried to find a way to get some more.
One morning, while mom was in the garden, Kate found what shewas looking for: the key to the secret cupboard where all thejam jars were kept. She had already unlocked the cupboard doorand was taking the lid off one jar when I walked in looking formom. I saw her and was ready to say something, but she whispered:
"Go away, right now!"
I did not. "What are you doing" I asked her foolishly, as it wasobvious what she was doing!
"Trying this jam, silly. I'm testing it to see if it's the sameas the one mom 's given me." She said shoving a big spoonfulinto her mouth.
"Mom said you shouldn't touch it," I said.
"Just a little bit won't do ant harm," Kate replied, diving herspoon into the jar once more.
"I'll tell mom," I said and was ready to leave.
"Wait!" she screamed. "Try this!" She forced a spoonful into mymouth. "Let's have a secret, shall we?" she said.
"I don't like jam!" I mumbled with my mouth full.
Just then we heard footsteps. Kate wiped the jam from my mouth,closed the cupboard hurriedly and shoved me behind the greenvelvet curtains of the living room.
"Stay there and don't talk!" she ordered.
I couldn't talk anyway with my mouth full of fig jam. I had toswallow it first.
"What are you doing over there?" mom's voice sounded loudly inmy ears.
"I'm looking for Lia, " Kate replied. "Maybe she's in thegarden," she added.
"She's not," mom replied concerned. "Lia!" she started shouting.
I had finally managed to swallow the sticky jam and replied:
"Here I am , mom!" and I emerged from the curtain.
"What are you doing there?" mom asked.
Kate gave me an angry look.
"I'm hiding," I confessed. "We were playing hide and seek," Kateadded.
Mom stared at both of us and then shook her head.
A few days later, the secret was revealed. It was not my fault.Mom found out the half-eaten fig jam and Kate had to confess hercrime, or her good deed.
"Lia wanted some jam so I thought you wouldn't mind," shedefended herself.
Mom was surprised.
"I didn't know you liked my fig jam!" she told me. "I'm glad youdo! It's very healthy and nutritious!"
So, from that day on, I had to eat a slice of bread with fig jamat breakfast. At the beginning, I felt sick of it, but a littleby little I got used to it , and, funnily enough, I startedliking it. I still do!
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This is a story from Liana's e book : Flowers for Women, ananthology written by women worldwide.http://liamet.tripod.com/flowers *****************
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