Dandelion

4. "Am I getting you wet?"

Joe Mikhailov Oluwafemi was his mother's  doppleganger.

That was the first thing that Tallulah noticed when she walked into AJ's house a few weeks ago. Her pictures were on every corner of their beautiful eight bedroom home in the city.

From under her long red hair shone eyes the color of deep forest pools, and below that, a nose so freckled that the brown splotches overlapped much like fall leaves after a windstorm. Her smile was warm with a hint of shyness, just like her son.

Her name was Aubrey Mikhailov. No one really brought her up much but according to the little she could gather, she had died in a car accident when Joe was four.

"I don't understand, how is beating each other up until you're bleeding a sport?" she asked Joe, who had his head buried in books on the kitchen island as she made lunch.

It was a Saturday afternoon. Lucy was off so instead of having the boys order in the filthy processed food they ate on several occasions, Tallulah decided to cook some of her native food.

Joe shrugged. "I don't understand the sport either but dad likes it and I like watching him win. He's very good at it."

Tallulah mixed the vegetables in the pot, deep in thought. Ever since coming to Manchester, she had been trying to understand the culture of the people. It was difficult to understand something that you weren't a part of or have never experienced. AJ's profession was one of those things she was unable to wrap her head around. How was violence celebrated? What value did it add to the society? Why did he enjoy being beaten?

"What are you reading?" she asked, changing the topic.

Joe pushed his glasses down the bridge of his nose and looked at her with a smile. "Some research on your country. We have to write a paper for school about the most beautiful place we've visited and the culture of the people in it."

"You decided to write about São Tomé and Principê?"

He nodded. "Question... how comes you speak Portuguese?"

"Well, our little island was uninhabited until the Portuguese discovered it in the 15th century. So during slavery, some ships with slaves from all over Africa, were deposited on the island to create this mix of people in my country. So our distinct ethnic groups are; Mestiços who were a mix of African slaves and the Portuguese, Angolares who were the descendants of the Angolan survivors from a shipwreck, Forros who were descendants of the freed slaves, Serviçais, contract laborers from Angola, cape Verde and Mozambique, Tongas who were the children born of the contract laborers."

Joe stared at Tallulah, fascinated by information overload she had just given him.

"Is that too much for an eight-year-old?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No, I skipped a grade because I'm really smart and my dad had to move me to a school with especially bright kids that could challenge me. He says that I'm just like my mother."

"Really?"

"Mhhh," Joe agreed. "Could you tell me more?"

"Okay," she smiled. "So about 98% of the people in my country speak Portuguese, you know with it being the official language. Other than that there are people who speak Portuguese creole which is Angolar, Principense and Forro. Then there are those like myself who can also speak French and English."

"You can speak French?" he asked fascinated.

"Oui!" Tallulah went back to peeling the sweet potatoes she was making for lunch. " I speak a little bit of French, English which you notice is a bit broken, Portuguese and Angolar."