Growing up with cousins is fabulous. Cousins are sometimes better than brothers and sisters. Cousins can go home to their own house. You don’t have to share your room with your cousin, but you usually want to.
Jack, Jake and Blake are cousins. Jack and Jake are a little older than Blake. The older boys are rather naughty and up to such tricks that their mothers despair. Blake’s mother smiles to herself; her little boy is so sweet and gentle and never naughty – fortunately, she has never said this out loud as things are changing at a rapid rate. Blake is 18 months old and not quite talking clearly yet. He looks up to his cousins as if they are gods and he tries to copy everything they do. This sometimes leads to trouble with a big T!!!!!
While Jack and Jake are best of friends, they really love their wee cousin who tries to do everything they do. They would never intentionally hurt him. Jack is seven going on eight and Jake is a year younger. When Jack goes to the fridge to get some milk to drink, Jake also gets a glass which Jack will fill for him. Blake is right on their heels and grabs a cup too. He holds it out to Jack who pours a little milk into it; unfortunately, it slips out of his fingers and spills all over the floor. The cup is plastic, so it does not break. The boys look around guiltily for the adult who would tell them off, no one is around. Quickly they call the dog to lick up the milk, no evidence is left, and all three “glasses” are left in the sink.
When Blake’s mother came into the kitchen, he tried to tell her that he had had some milk and that it had spilt. Pointing his little finger he said, “Oh, Oh! Oh, Oh!” Blake’s mother looked at him fondly and said that drinking some milk was good, and how glad she was that the boys were looking after him so well. She did not understand what he was trying to tell her, but she did wonder at the sticky patch on the floor that she had to wipe clean again.
Jack and Jake’s mother was visiting Blake’s house. While the mothers were having tea, the boys went skipping out to the yard. Blake followed them; he tried to skip; he hopped on one leg and sort of galloped, hopped on the other. It was so funny to see. Everyone laughed. All three boys went outside. Jack’s mother called after the older boys, remember to keep a close eye on your young cousin please.”
The two older boys had a big mission they wanted to accomplish. They were planning on how they would build a tree house with all the wood left over from the reconstruction of Blake’s house after the hurricane had done so much damage. They set the long wood pieces in a square and built up the 2x4’s as if they were building walls. Blake got a little bored with this and went to lie down in the shade of one of the walls. The dirt was soft sand as his house was right near the beach. The older boys carried a large piece of plywood to the square and placed it over the top. There was a small gap on one side that they could crawl in and out of. They went off to the end of the garden to find a suitable piece of wood to make a door with and while they were gone, Blake crept into the shady house they had built and lay down and soon fell asleep.
When the mothers had finished visiting, they called to the boys that it was time to go. Jack and Jake came running, but Blake did not. “Blake is behind the house we made, sitting in the shade,” the boys said. “Okay,” said his mom, “I will go and bring him in. Bye, everyone.” The others got into the car while Blake’s mom went to look for him. She walked right round the small wood square the boys were building. She could not see Blake anywhere.
Blake’s mother panicked and ran down to the edge of the garden calling his name. Terrible thoughts flashed through her mind because Blake could not yet swim. She did not see him anywhere. Her voice rose a bit hysterically, “Blake!” she screamed. “Blake!”
She looked up and down, then ran out onto the long beach. Blake had never wandered far away before. Huffing and sweating, she ran to her neighbour’s house. “Blake! I can’t find Blake!” she yelled.
“Maybe he is on the road,” the neighbour said. “I will go there to look.” She went out to the road and looked up and down. The little boy was nowhere to be seen.
In the meantime, Blake’s mom had run out along the beach again. She was yelling frantically by now and all the folk who lived along the beach came to see what was going on. Blake’s mother breathlessly told them that she could not find her son. It was strange, they all thought, because the little boy never wandered away. As it was getting dark quickly – it does in the tropics – the neighbours all got their flashlights and started to search along the fences and hedges along the beach; some also went along the water’s edge flashing their lights on the gentle breaking waves. Some neighbours went along the road, looking everywhere. No one thought of going back to Blake’s house. One of the neighbours called the police.
Having finished with his nap, Blake rolled over in the darkening structure and stretched. He felt very content. He loved his cousins coming to visit, they did exciting things. He could not wait to grow big like them. He could see it was getting dark, so he stood up and knocked the large piece of plywood with his head. It slipped sideways and blocked his way out of the little square house. He was not scared, but he was stuck inside. There was no way he could climb his way out. He sat down to think. His tummy was rumbling because he was getting hungry. “Oh dear,” he thought as he started to cry. He did not cry loudly, it would not have helped if he had, because there was no one at his house to hear him.
The police arrived at the front gate of the house where the boy’s father was waiting. After hearing the story, he thought they had better get hold of the older cousins to hear what they had to say of what had happened before they had gone home. No one thought to go around the house to the small, square, wood structure; after all, the mother had not seen her son there where the boys said Blake would be sitting.
The cousins arrived at Blake’s house in their dad’s car. Everyone went inside and listened as the boys related the story of what they had done that afternoon. One of the policemen went outside and shone his torch at the small, wee structure. He could see how small it was and he was sure that no one could be inside. He listened carefully, he heard nothing except the sound of the tree frogs. He went back into the house where Blake’s mother was crying and crying. They all heard the boys tell how Blake had dropped the glass and how they called the dog in to lick up the spilt milk. Blake’s mother related how Blake had being saying, “Oh, Oh” –obviously, he was trying to tell her about what happened. She burst out crying louder still, she missed her baby so much. Blake’s father came and held her tight.
Having heard the story from the cousins and not having any news come to them about the young boy being found, the chief policeman suggested they all go outside to see the small house the boys said they had been constructing. Turning on their flashlights, everyone trouped around the house. As they advanced to the wood pile, the boys exclaimed that they had put the “roof” on over the “walls” but when they looked, they saw that the roof had fallen in. They lifted up the board and as they did so, everyone called out, “Look! Look!” There before them was young Blake lying in the corner under the wood. He was sound asleep as all his crying had made him tired.
A strong policeman quickly lifted Blake into his mother’s arms. Tears of happiness poured down her cheeks as Blake opened his eyes and smiled at her. Then he struggled into a sitting position in her arms and pointed his wee finger at the small structure and gabbled some words no one understood. “Oh-Oh,” he then said brightly. Everyone knew what he meant this time, and everyone laughed.
