“Isaias?” His aunt’s voice echoed around him.

A cheery voice bellowed in untamed excitement, slicing through crushing waves that threatened to drag him under, like the smallest echo in the deafening current of blaring noise, snapping Isaias awake. Something leapt in front of him, startling him a stumbling step back.

“Mami! Look what I found! Chanchitos! They’re huge!”

Tiny feet darted around him in circles, his eyes barely keeping up, something blue, wisps of tangled loose hair whipping around, hands clasped tightly together in front of her chest, clearly holding something, giggles bursting out around him.

“Uhh---” Isaias stammered, more than just taken back.

“Suyana ven aquí-! Isaias, catch her!”

Mind stuttered into a jumble, he dove in, catching something wriggly, full of arms and legs, kicking. 

Light in weight, so much so that it startled him, almost dropping his catch wanting to soften his hold on the small creature. That something wiggled and shook with untamed laughter.

“Woah, you’re really really big,” Suyana awed, kicking her dangling feet outwards. 

Isaias blinked, unsure how to take that, Suyana was seven years old, of course, she was small but standing next to him…she was tiny. Dry leaves wildly jutted out of her hair, dirt matted on the knees of her blue overalls.

Sighing an affectionate huff, Maywa strode forward reaching for Suyana, “You’re all covered in leaves,” Brushing out leaves from her daughter’s messy hair.

“Look, look, look-! I found them under the huge rock behind the tree!” 

Cracking open her palms, revealing tiny curled-up shiny round and imperfect spheres, woodlice, Isaias realised numbly as leaned forward. But it gave him something to focus on, something to his mind to cling to.

“Suyana, we’ve already talked about this, you can’t go around picking up insects in the garden like that. Go on, put them back where you found them,” Maywa said, as Isaias set her down on her feet, her shoulders deflating from her previous untamed excitement.

“But-”

“No, were can't keep them,” Maywa finished, eyes narrowing, knowing exactly what her youngest wanted to go with this. 

"And no, secretly hiding them in your pockets, either,"

“Aw, man,”

Grumbling, the little girl covered in leaves leapt off the deck and sprinted right back into the garden. 

A low whistle rang loudly, “Woah! Look at her go! I remember when we used to run like that,” 

Turning, Carmen stood leaning against the opened garden door, a flute of wine between her fingers, squinting, hand over her sharp brows in the direction the little girl ran off to. 

“Fast, isn’t she?” Grins Maywa. 

“Oh, hell yeah, watch out track runners she’s coming for the gold,”

Smiling, “Are you coming to help us with the tomatoes, Cam?” His aunt asks.

Carmen's features scrunch up, bare feet firmly on the kitchen tiles, “Hell no, you know how many insects there are over there,” She physically shuddered at the thought, a neat hand over her heart.

“I’ll be over here, safe and in the shade, thank you,”

Maywa shook her head and went back to her unattended basket sitting on the grass next to Jon’s prized vegetable patch that sat at the far side of the garden, neatly stretched along the wooden fence panels, blooming green shoots burrowed in the soil, bubbly colourful labels scattered around, long thin wooden sticks acting as supports for thriving healthy stems.

His tíos adored the vegetable patch. Especially Jon who had grown it from scratch. An intimate interest in growing his own vegetables from slumbering seeds to edible fresh produce.

Isaias still remembers blinking awake at early dawn taking a peek through the window only to find his uncle crouched down tending to young sprout branches buried in the soil. Careful intricate fingers, sweat trickling down his short sideburns, a cap always secured over his head as the early morning sun rose to meet him.

Whenever Jon was there he was always firmly concentrated, charged with determination and unnerving patience. It was always admirable to see Isaias. 

”He’s recently added a whole new area at the end of it, more tomatoes, was it?” Carmen called out to Maywa.

“Means more ceviche for these weeks,” Maywa sang, grinning, “See this bit, this is all recent growth Jon’s started,”

She nodded to the square and rectangular lined wooden boxes not so far to their side. Tall cages steadily built along the bed, vines intertwined and growing tall and upwards.

A small structure of tomato plants caught his eye, just vines but it stood tall and proud despite its slumped state. It leaned itself on a thin straight wooden stick, green branches stretching out, delicate healthy leaves soaking in the sun. Glossy grouped jewels hung with weight, most were either green or a harsh bruising yellow, and others were shiny red tomatoes that stood out from the green shrubbery. Ready to pick.

Isaias leaned down for a closer look, his heart lifting seeing his uncle's hard work and progress of his ‘veggie bed’. Maywa crouched down, setting the basket near her feet, tomatoes right in front of them, reaching out to grab a bold one covered with imperfections and ridges. And with a gentle twist, the plant let go.  

He hesitated. Wordlessly, stretching towards a bulky full grown tomato, he gently took a small tomato between his nimble fingers, and with a slight tugging twist, its weight dropped against his palm.

Maywa leaned back placing another into the basket, “He just planted this young sprout recently, a few weeks ago, it’s growing at a steady pace, Jon has so many things here,”

Isaias felt a wide smile bloom at a memory, dimples deepening, “Where are the hot peppers?”

Maywa painfully groaned as Carmen burst out a sharp bark of laughter from behind them on the deck, bare feet and all. 

The reason they called it the ‘veggie bed’ was because once an exhausted Jon had nodded off working far harder in his tired state, and accidentally closed his eyes for a little too long, falling face flat on the soil from exhaustion. Maywa had found him curled up in the vegetable patch where onions were growing, sleeping. Breathing out incoherent words, apparently begging for the hot peppers to grow.

“You had to go there," Maywa groaned, fingers over her eyes, "I had to practically drag him back in,” 

Carmen practically wheezed to catch her breath.

Isaias snorts, his broad shoulders shaking. Squawking bird noises snapped their attention, and a very messy Suyana came trotting in front of them covered in dried mud, with two rather glittery and muddied dinosaur toys gripped by green-stained fingers.

“Suyana,” Maywa gasps a cry, taking in her dirty appearance, “How? You were only gone for one second!”

“I was digging for treasure!” Suyana grins, wiping her stained hands on her muddied overalls, wrestling her dinosaurs on her arm.

Groaning in defeatedly, her mother slumped, “Tu papa just had changed you too,” She bent down to wipe a smear of soil on her daughter’s round cheek.

“Well, we always knew she’d become a palaeontologist,” Carmen shrugged, taking a not-so-subtle step back.

Curiosity piqued, “So what treasure did you find out there?” Isaias asked, which he regretted almost immediately.

Suyana glowed, her eyes taking a new shine to them, she shoved her hand into her wide unusual brimming pocket. In truth, that should have been the first sign to Isaias that whatever she found was living.

And Suyana promptly scooped out a handful of worms drenched in soil.

Her mother hissed a sharp intake of breath.

Carmen went rigid, face blanching as a muffled scream tore out of her, swinging her body backwards and Isaias fumbled to catch her, the older women practically clung to him.

Isaias tightened his hold, wobbling as they stumbled another few steps back regaining their balance on their feet, “Jesus--”

“Cam!” Maywa cries out, keeping Suyana firmly at her side, arms secured around her child’s chest, “Are you okay?”

“Nope, no, hell no!” The tall lady straightens, firmly shaking her head, “Dios, has created two different types of people in the world, indoors and outdoors people, and I am indoors!”

The tall woman dashed across the deck, her proclamations to god switching to her mother’s tongue, her accent deepening with each declaration as she disappeared through the door with a secure snap of the lock behind her.

Isaias blinked, eyes wide, he turned back to see his tía frustratingly rubbing the strain between her eyebrows, a pouty Suyana who still held the worms in her palms as they wiggled about.