Short Stories Llanito Category: Winner Kaylan Escamez with ‘Que Bonito Es La Hora Del Te’

Pg tips or Tetley Rey? My mum decides to ask me as the clock strikes la hora del te. My feet dug into the warm August sand, wiggling my toes with excitement at the thought of the pedazo bollo I’m going to eat now of jamon y queso. “Pg mum, poco milk” I reply. “Tu no toma azuca no?” replies my mum to which she knew the answer already. “No mum” and so the milk comes my way, with a large mug decorated with blue and white flowers.

She pops out a large termo in black with the largest industrial handle you can imagine from her never-ending beach bag, como un modern Mary Poppins. The sun is settling in through the sombrilla, hitting my greased-up skin when my mum asks “Quieres biscuits y el bollo ya o te va toma un dip antes?” to which I reply “me voy a tomar un dip”.

I dive headfirst into the water, the scouring bubbling sound ringing in my ears as I plunge into the cold waves. My skin thanking the drop of temperature after cooking myself under the sun with Australian gold tanning oil. There are two striped fish circling my feet, making me feel as if I’m part of the ocean. Welcoming me into their world which I have just invaded. The wet sand touching the souls of my feet is soft and grainy as if I’m walking on cold talcum powder. Paradiso.

I turn around to face the shore and see my mum preparing tea, with her small beach table and the mantel being laid out. I can almost read her lips as she is speaking to herself “la mierda arena conio” as she is waving sand off the table. She is decorating the table with all the biscuits, the bollos, the mugs full of piping hot tea y la azuca que no tomo.

The sun glistening over the ripples of the ocean, waving me back to shore, inviting me back for teatime. I climb back up to our sombrilla and sit on my Coca Cola towel grasping for air before I prepare myself for tea.

I take a sip of my tea and quickly came to realize that I wasn’t at the beach, I didn’t have a dip in the sea, the sun was not out at UV 10. The birds were not chirping; the kids were not screaming at the top of their lungs in contentment, and my coca cola towel was not there. In fact, I was alone, cold in my room on a rainy January's day, dreaming about better days and better moments. Dreaming about the way the sun reflected on my smile, the way my mum's Nivea sun cream scent reminded me of younger times. See my days at the beach with my mum aren’t about what they are physically but where they take me, to a place in time that made me feel safe, protected and free. Innocence blooming. Ay que bonito these moments are.

Judge’s Comments:

A short story that describes a scene that is familiar and nostalgic to many of us. El termo, los bollos, el mantel...la arena. Is there any hunger like the hunger felt at the beach? The contrast of the mother’s actions with the plunge beneath the waves is effective. The first person perspective takes us through this moment and lets us experience the memory as our narrator does, and in doing so takes us from the heat of the beach, to the cool of the sea; from the small figure of the swearing mother, to the first sip. The writer has captured the sense of Llanito in the language used, the scene set and the events that are described.