We have a water tank at home. It is round and deep, and when rain falls heavily, it is full to the brim. In the dry season, a bucket is tied to a rope to get water from the tank. We are never out of water, because we also have three water drums with a gutter from the roof channelling the rain into them.

Several people from the village get water from us. They get the water free and sometimes they buy it. Sometimes when they come for water too often, and our supply is dwindling, Mama advises them to go to the parish tank.

The parish tank gives people free water. From time to time they pass our house with donkeys that have two hampers with the kerosene tins in them. These containers are filled with water and the donkeys transport them.

Oh, how I wish I could go to the parish tank one day!

Carol, Jennifer, Yvette, Johnny, Ben, Dorothy and Neville, the whole of them are my schoolmates. I envy them for having fun, riding the donkey to the parish tank.

"I want to go to parish tank with Carol and Jennifer and Yvette them," I say to Mama.

"No," she says. "Yuh have all the water yuh need right here. Thank God sey yuh don't have to trudge to parish tank to get water."

"But it so boring to stay here every day, while other children having fun!" I complain.

"Yuh think that is fun?" Mama asks. "A bet yuh would think otherwise if yuh had to go parish tank every day like them!"

"I want to go to parish tank!" I pester Mama until at last she relents.

"Gwaan with Carol and Neville," she says.

She calls them at the gate. "Betty want to come with yuh to si parish tank," she tells them. "Please teck good care of her."

"Yes Mam. We'll teck good care of her," they tell Mama.

They are in their yard clothes and Neville is bare-footed, but I wear my pretty shift with the frills around the hem. I walk beside them in the boiling sun. Soon I start to feel very hot and tired.

"I want to ride on the donkey," I say.

They look at each other.

"Nuh put her pon the donkey. If the donkey fling her, what yuh gwine tell her parents?" Dorothy asks.

"Please!" I beg.

"Put the pickney pon the donkey! Yu ever si Dinah fling anybody from yu know her? A tame, tame donkey this, man," Neville says.

I stomp my feet and start to carry on. I always do this when I don't get what I want.

"Mek wi carry her back," says Jennifer.

"No!" I implore. "I will give you this penny if yuh put mi on the donkey."

Neville lifts me and puts me on to the donkey. I sit on Dinah's back with my feet astride, each resting on the hampers on either side.

Boy the donkey ride sweet! My head is just bobbing as Dinah and the little procession trudge along. I look around hoping that my other friends will see me riding on a donkey. I see Sonia at her gate and proudly wave to her. There is Keith on his veranda. I wave to him too. I must write a composition about this when I return to school in September. Teacher always gives us a composition to write on how we spent our holidays.

Now I see the parish tank in the distance. It is a huge tank situated at the bottom of a steep hill. Unlike our tank at home, it is covered with mesh and painted white. At last, I get to know the parish tank!

Dinah trudges lazily along, with me on her back, my head bobbing from side to side. We reach the road that leads to the tank, and without warning, Dinah picks up speed. I am taken off guard, but I quickly grab her neck and hold on for dear life.

Is now Dinah galloping fast!

"Brr!" I try to say, like I hear Neville shout when he wants Dinah to stop. No sound comes out, but I cling like death to Dinah's neck.

"I can't drop off! Lord help me! Suppose the donkey fling me and I fall into the tank! The tank cover, yes, but the mesh can burst. Lord help mi!"

Dinah galloping at top speed!

"He! He Donkey!" I try to shout again.

Hopeless!

At last Dinah grinds to a halt. I hear voices around me, but I cling to Dinah's neck, afraid to open my eyes.

"The pickney in shock!"

"A who fa pickney? Such a pretty little girl!"

"A which idiot put her pon donkey?"

I open my eyes and survey the shadows hovering around me.

"Little pickney, let go the donkey neck!" a burly figure implores as he pries my hand from Dinah's neck. He takes me off Dinah and puts me on to the ground. Everything inside me is about to come up. The shadows are spinning, round and round they go. My knees buckle beneath me and I collapse.

"The pickney faint! Throw some water pon her!"

I hear everything they are saying. I don't want to get wet! I hold out my hand and try to speak.

Nothing. Just a feeble croak.

Woosh! Someone douses me with a bucket of water. I jump up as mad as a hatter.

"Why yuh wet me up!" I shout.

"Tenk God!" answers the culprit, relief registered on his face.

It's as though I'm seeing the people around me for the first time.

The faces of the big people show concern, but the little children take it as a big joke.

I am shaking as a leaf.

Jennifer and the others have just reached. They come running down the hill, panting with painful anxiety.

"Yuh miss all the fun!" a speckled face boy shouts.

I'm still shaking as a leaf. I'm soaked to the bone. I feel so embarrassed!

Imagine I have to pass all my friends on my way back home, soaking wet in the hot, hot sun!

Ah Sah!