The Popcorn went Plop!

A South African Story

by Phyllis Owen

  Five-year old Jacob and his friend, Tinus, were sitting on a dead tree trunk in front of Jacob’s home.  The morning sky was a clear blue and the sun shone brightly.

  ‘Sssh, Tinus, listen to what that bird is saying,’ Jacob told his friend.

  Tinus frowned.  ‘It’s a dove and he’s not saying anything, he’s just cooing.’

  Jacob grimaced.  ‘I know dove’s coo but listen to the sound of his coo.  Listen carefully, he’s saying, ‘Itsy, bitsy, scarecrow!  Itsy, bitsy, scarecrow!’

  Tinus giggled.  ‘I remember that story on TV where the children made a scarecrow and dressed it up in old clothes, putting it in a field to scare away the birds who were eating all the crops.’

  ‘Keep quiet, Tinus, and listen,’ Jacob insisted.

  Tinus concentrated as hard as he could, then started nodding slowly.

  ‘Itsy, bitsy, scarecrow!  Itsy, bitsy, scarecrow!’

  His eyes widened.   ‘That’s what he’s saying all right.  I never thought birds could make sounds like people.’

  ‘They do if you listen very carefully.  They can make all sorts of people sounds.  Mama says that’s where the Piet-my-vrou got its name,’ Jacob put in.  ‘I heard it once, before all those trees were chopped down near Uncle Jan Moolman’s house.  All it did was sit on a branch where we couldn’t see it and shout, ‘Piet my Vrou!  Piet my Vrou!’  It went on and on for a long time and was so boring.  Mama says the real name for the bird is the Red-Chested Cuckoo.’

  ‘Red-chested Cuckoo!’ gasped Tinus, giggling.  ‘That’s such a stupid name for a bird.’

  Jacob and Tinus lived in a township on top of a small hill in the tourist town of Knysna, in the Southern Cape of South Africa.  They had a wonderful view of the town and the surrounding mountains and valleys and they could also watch the sea that rushed into the lagoon from between two large cliffs, called, ‘The Heads’.  It was as if giant hands had ripped the mountain apart allowing the sea to come in.  The boys looked down at the town where cars, lorries and mini-buses raced along the roads all day long. 

  Jacob liked where he lived. 

  Tinus, his best friend, lived next door.  He was fun to be with and they always played together and were often mistaken for brothers.   Tinus’s mother was very pretty, but his father spent most of his weekends at a township pub, drinking strong liquor and coming home drunk.  People said ugly and cruel things about him.  Jacob felt sorry for Tinus.  He wouldn’t like it if people were rude about his father.

  Both their fathers worked for the Town Council.  They dug deep ditches on the side of the road and laid large pipes in them.  It was hard work and Papa was very tired when he came home.

  Jacob and Tinus were not old enough to go to school so they took turns to play at each other’s home.

  ‘Come, let’s go inside and draw a racing car and then we can colour it in,’ suggested Jacob. 

  ‘Yes, lets,’ Tinus agreed excitedly.

  They went inside and Jacob first hurried to his room and brought back some blank paper and a huge box of crayons.  They sat at the kitchen table.

  Just then his mother walked into the kitchen.  ‘Jacob,’ she said, ‘I’m going to see Aunt Marika for a short while.’  She laughed and added, ‘Be good and don’t do anything you wouldn’t do if I was here.’  Aunt Marika lived only a few houses away from them.

  ‘We will be good, Mama,’ promised Jacob.  His Mama wasn’t as slim as Tinus’s Mama, but she was pretty and kind, and everyone seemed to like her.

  Tinus nodded.  ‘We will be good, Aunt Vanessa,’ he agreed.

  Mama laughed and left.

  The boys concentrated hard on drawing their pictures and then began colouring them in, making sure they kept inside the lines.  Jacob smiled when he remembered Papa telling him that he had clever fingers after he had shown him a picture he had drawn.  ‘You must keep it up, my child,’ he said.  ‘One day you will be a great artist and make your Papa proud.’

  A few minutes later Jacob exclaimed, ‘Look, Tinus, my car’s finished!’  He proudly held up the brightly coloured picture.

  ‘Yes,’ put in Tinus, ‘so is mine.’

  Tinus looked carefully at Jacob’s picture.  The red racing car seemed to jump from the paper.  ‘You are clever, my friend,’ he said, his voice full of wonder.  ‘I wish I could draw as good as you.’

    Jacob stared at his picture.  ‘I want a car like this one day when I’m big,’ he said.

  ‘But that’s for racing, Jacob.  You can’t drive that kind of a car on the road.’ Tinus told him.

  ‘My car will be made for driving on the road,’ Jacob insisted. 

  Tinus sighed.  It was no use arguing with Jacob when he used that voice.  Then his face suddenly brightened.  ‘Next month is Christmas and Mama said we are going to visit my grandmother and grandfather who live on a farm in Rheenendal.  It isn’t very far from here.  There are cows, goats, sheep and pigs there.’

  ‘Cows, goats, sheep and pigs!’ Jacob bounced on the chair, ‘Hey, man, that’s great!  I’ve never been on a farm before.  But we are also going away to visit my Aunt Rosa and Uncle George and my two cousins, Hendrik and Deon.  They visited us last year when they were living in Port Elizabeth.  Now they have moved to Kimberley, the diamond city, and we have to catch a train to go there.’

  ‘Oogh, Jacob,’ Tinus gasped.  ‘I would very much like to go on a train.  I’ve never been on a train.’

  Jacob smiled.  ‘I am so happy.  Mama said we will sleep on the train and when we wake up in the morning we will be in Kimberley.’  He began to giggle.  ‘My cousin Deon is called Professor because he wears glasses and is always reading.  But he’s good because he reads a story to Hendrik and me every night before we go to bed, and I like that.’

‘What can we draw now?’ broke in Tinus.

  ‘I’m hungry,’ put in Jacob, rubbing his stomach.  ‘We can first have something to eat.’          He jumped from the chair and walked to a cupboard.

  As he opened the door a packet of popcorn kernels fell to the floor.

  ‘Hauw, okeydokee!’ he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up, ‘I’ll make us some popcorn.  I know how because I have watched Mama when she made some for us on Friday night.’

  Tinus clapped his hands excitedly.  ‘Whoopee!  Oh, yes please,’ he cried, jumping from the chair and joining Jacob.  ‘My mama’s never made it.  She just buys it at the shop.’

  Jacob took a large pot from the cupboard under the kitchen sink and from another cupboard next to the stove he took out a bottle of cooking oil.

  Removing the lid from the pot he put it on the kitchen table and placed the pot on the largest plate of the stove.  Pushing a chair up against the stove, he climbed on to it.  Tinus handed him the bottle of cooking oil.  Jacob carefully poured the cooking oil into the pot making sure there was enough to cover the bottom.  He remembered Mama saying, almost to herself,  ‘Serah says it just needs enough cooking oil to cover the bottom of the pot.’

  He switched on the stove.

  ‘When the oil is hot,’ he told Tinus, ‘I will put in a cup of popcorn.’

  The boys waited for a few minutes until they saw a mist of steam rising from the pot.

  ‘I must first drop one kernel into the pot and when it pops the oil is hot enough and I can put in the rest,’ explained Jacob, feeling very important.  ‘Mama told me that there is a little pocket of water inside each kernel and when it gets very hot it bursts and that’s what makes it pop.’

  He carefully dropped in the kernel and they stood back from the stove and waited, giggling nervously.

  Plop!  It jumped right out of the pot and on to the floor.

  ‘Hauw!’ Tinus chuckled, his eyes sparkling, ‘This is fun!’

  Jacob poured the kernels into a cup, filling it to the top.  It took nearly a half a packet.  Then climbing on to the chair he emptied it into the pot.

     He cried out in alarm as small specks of hot fat splashed on to his arms. Quickly jumping from the chair, he rubbed his arms frantically and ran to the kitchen sink where Tinus was standing, watching with interest.

  It did not take long before the popcorn, spluttering and plopping, shot out of the pot and flew all over the kitchen.  Jacob forgot about his fear and he and Tinus ran around trying to catch the flying popcorn, shouting excitedly as it flew this way and that.

  ‘Ooogh!’ exclaimed Jacob, ‘I’ve caught one and one has popped on to my head.’

  ‘Look!’ shouted Tinus, ‘there’s a piece flying out of the back door.’

  The popcorn continued to plop.  Some landed on top of the cupboards some into the kitchen sink and the floor was littered with it, looking like little puffs of cottonwool.

  A feeling of dread suddenly came over Jacob.  Somehow he was not too sure that making popcorn was such a good idea after all.  This didn’t happen when Mama made popcorn.  Something had gone terribly wrong and he became frightened. 

  They stopped and stared, their eyes rolling white in their sockets.  The pot began to fill up with angry black smoke that spiraled towards the ceiling.  The stove plate burst into bright red flames curling menacingly around the pot.

  Tinus began to whimper and Jacob’s mouth went dry, his heart beating so fast he thought it would jump right out of his chest.

  ‘What can we do?’ he asked in a frightened whisper, tears welling up in his eyes.

  Tinus looked at him helplessly, shaking his head.

  Just then, much to their relief, Mama walked into the kitchen.  Jacob let out a deep sigh of relief that sounded like it came all the way up from his toes.

  ‘Aaaaaie!’ Mama screamed, running to the stove.  Turning off the plate, she grabbed the lid lying on the table slamming it on to the pot then she put it into the kitchen sink.  The flames on the stove slowly died out.

  Mama wagged an accusing finger at the boys.  ‘You have been very bad,’ she said, her face stern.  ‘If the flames had been any higher the curtains would have caught alight.  You could have burnt the house down and yourselves as well.  Electricity isn’t a toy.  It’s dangerous to play with.’  She shook her head.  ‘There will be no more pocket money for you, Jacob, until you have paid for a new pot.  This one has been ruined.’

  ‘Ye…ye…yes, Mama,’ Jacob stammered.  His legs were trembling.  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly.  He couldn’t think of anything else to say.  He had never seen Mama so cross before.

  Tinus stood staring wide-eyed at Aunt Vanessa.  He looked so unhappy as if he was about to burst into tears.

  They had to open all the windows in the house and the back and front doors to get rid of the smoke and the smell.  When that was done Mama made them pick up each piece of popcorn and put it into a plastic bowl.  She helped to remove the popcorn from the tops of the cupboards.

  When they had finished cleaning up they sat at the table trying to draw but they were not enjoying it.  They kept glancing at Mama who was cleaning the stove and then began scrubbing the blackened pot. The boys looked at each other nervously, but said nothing.

After a short while she turned and asked, ‘Have you learned your lesson?’

 ‘Yes,’ they replied together.

  ‘You must promise never again to use the stove when I’m not here.  Both of you could have died, do you realize that?’

  Nodding, they looked at her, eyes wide.  An uneasy silence followed. 

  Suddenly Mama burst out laughing.  ‘You are lucky, my child, I’ve managed to scrape most of the damage off the pot.’  Then her face became serious as she stared at them.  ‘Somehow I feel sure you’ve both learned a valuable lesson today.  Am I right?’

  Jacob looked at her in relief and answered, ‘Yes, Mama we have.  We won’t ever do it again.’

  Tinus, with a gulping sound, nodded.

  ‘Jacob get some mugs and plates and set the table,’ she said, her eyes twinkling.  ‘I will give you both some thick slices of bread and jam and a nice chocolate drink.’ Then she added, ‘Or would you rather have popcorn?’

  Jacob and Tinus vigorously shook their heads.

  The boys never forgot the lesson they learned that day.