Jamaican Duppy Story book

Mama turned. “Someone on the road?”

Leila listened. The crickets went on singing. A bird gave one sleepy chirp. Then the sound came again.

Step.

Step.

Step.

It was not loud. It sounded like bare feet touching the dusty road.

Auntie May looked at the mango tree. Its leaves trembled, though the air around Leila felt still.

“Maybe it is a goat,” Auntie May said.

“There are no goats by the gate,” Jonah replied.

Mama gave him a gentle look. “Then perhaps it is a loose branch.”

Leila lifted the lantern. Yellow light spilled over the gate, the roots of the mango tree, and the road beyond. Nothing moved.

“We can go around the back,” Leila said.

The back path led through the garden and over a narrow plank beside the stream. It was not dangerous, but the cart would not fit, and Mama would have to carry the baby across. The family needed to reach Grandma’s house before dark.

“We cannot take the cart that way,” Mama said. “The food would have to stay behind.”

Leila looked at the bundles. The breadfruit was for Grandma, who had been feeling tired. The blanket was for the baby. The lantern was their only light.

The footsteps came again.

Step.

Step.

Step.

This time, the sound was closer.

Jonah reached for Leila’s hand. His fingers felt cool.

“Maybe we should wait until morning,” he whispered.

Mama knelt beside him. “We are together, and the house is right behind us. No one is in trouble.”

Leila liked the sound of Mama’s calm voice. She took a slow breath through her nose and let it out gently, just as Mama had taught her when she felt upset.

In. Out.

The lantern flame wobbled, then stood straight.

“Let us look carefully,” Leila said. “Not run. Just look.”

Auntie May nodded. “That is a wise plan.”

Leila stepped toward the gate. The ground felt soft beneath her sandals. She shone the lantern along the fence. A long vine had fallen across one board. The breeze moved its leaves, making them tap against the wood.

“There!” Jonah said. “The vine is making the squeak.”

Leila smiled. “And maybe the footsteps are a branch.”

She moved the lantern toward the mango tree. One dry branch rested on the road. When the wind pushed it, the branch scraped forward a little.

Scrape.

Step.

Scrape.

“It sounds almost like feet,” Leila said.

Mama helped Auntie May lift the branch from the road. They placed it beside the fence. The squeaking stopped.

For a moment, the yard was quiet except for the crickets.

Jonah let go of Leila’s hand. “So the duppy was only a branch?”

Leila wanted to say yes. She wanted the answer to be simple.

Then a soft voice came from behind the gate.

“Leila.”

The lantern flame bent sideways.

Leila froze.

The voice had not sounded like the wind. It had said her name clearly, as if someone stood just beyond the mango tree.

Mama moved close to her. “Leila, stay with us.”

Leila swallowed. Her knees felt wobbly, but the gate was still only a gate. The road was still only a road. Mama’s hand rested warmly on her shoulder.

“Did you hear it?” Leila asked.

Auntie May’s face was serious, but kind. “Yes, child.”

Jonah pressed against Mama’s skirt. “Was it the duppy?”

No one answered at once.

The voice came again, softer this time.

“Leila.”

Leila closed her eyes for one breath.

In. Out.

She remembered something Auntie May had told her when she was small: “If a place feels strange, do not answer with anger. Listen first. A spirit may be lonely, confused, or trying to be heard.”

Leila opened her eyes. The mango tree looked ordinary in the lantern light. Its leaves were dark green. Its fruit hung like little golden lamps.

“We need to get through the gate,” Leila said. Her voice shook, but it did not break. “We can stay close and go together.”

Mama squeezed her shoulder. “You lead, and we will follow.”

Leila lifted the lantern higher. She took one step toward the gate.

The boards gave a tiny creak.

She took another step.

A cool breeze brushed her cheek. It smelled of mango skin and rain.

“Good evening,” Leila said politely. “We are passing through. We do not want to disturb you.”

The yard seemed to grow still around her.

Jonah whispered, “Are you sure you should talk to it?”

“I am being respectful,” Leila whispered back.

Auntie May picked up the cart handle. “Respect is never a bad place to begin.”

Leila reached the gate. A pale shape rested near the far post. It was not a person exactly. It looked like a patch of moonlight caught among the leaves. Two small points of light glimmered near the ground, then faded.

Leila’s breath caught.

The duppy was real.

It was close.

She wanted to turn and run back to the house, where the porch light glowed and the rocking chair stood by the door. But Mama and Jonah were behind her. The cart was behind them. Grandma was waiting beyond the road.

Leila placed one hand on the gate.

“Please let us pass,” she said. “We have food for our grandmother, and the baby is getting sleepy.”

The pale shape shifted. Leaves rustled overhead.

A sound came from the gatepost, like a tiny sigh.

Then the gate swung wider.

Leila stepped through.

Mama followed with the baby. Auntie May pushed the cart. Jonah came last, holding the blanket tight against his chest.

No one hurried. Their feet moved one after another along the road.

Leila kept the lantern pointed ahead. The light showed smooth stones, little weeds, and the white line of the road beneath the evening sky. Behind her, the mango gate creaked once.

Then came the footsteps.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Jonah looked back. “It is following us.”

Leila turned only enough to see the gate. The pale shape had moved from the post. It stood just inside the yard, quiet beneath the mango tree.

“No,” Mama said gently. “Keep your eyes on the road.”

“But it is coming!”

Leila listened. The footsteps were not beside them. They were behind them, soft and steady.

She took another breath.

In. Out.

“Maybe it wants to come along,” she said.

Auntie May glanced over her shoulder. “Perhaps. Some duppies do not like being left alone.”

Leila thought about the voice saying her name. It had not sounded angry. It had sounded small, like someone calling from another room.

She stopped at the edge of the yard.

Mama stopped too. “What is it?”

Leila turned toward the gate. The pale shape stood between the posts. The mango leaves made a roof above it.

“We are going to Grandma’s house,” Leila said. “You may follow, but you must stay behind the lantern. We will not harm you, and you must not frighten Jonah.”

The shape did not move.

Jonah peeked around Mama. “And do not touch the cart.”

Leila almost smiled. “Yes. Do not touch the cart.”

For a moment, nothing happened. Then one mango leaf floated down and landed beside the road.

The footsteps began again.

Step.

Step.

Step.

They followed the family past the gate, but they stayed behind the lantern’s warm circle of light.

The road curved between the banana trees. The sky changed from pink to purple. Fireflies blinked in the grass. Mama hummed a quiet song to the baby, and Auntie May’s cart wheels bumped gently over the stones.

Leila kept walking. She was still afraid, but she was not alone. Each time she breathed in, she felt the lantern handle in her hand. Each time she breathed out, she heard her family’s footsteps beside her.

At the corner, Mama looked back. The mango gate was now far away, a small blue line beneath the tree.

The footsteps stopped.

Leila waited.

The night was filled with crickets again. A warm breeze carried the smell of breadfruit from the cart.

Then the duppy whispered from behind her.

“Leila.”

She turned toward the dark road.

The voice was close enough to hear, but the road was empty. The lantern shone on the stones, the grass, and the long path leading to Grandma’s house.

Leila held Mama’s hand.

“We are safe,” Mama said.

Leila nodded, though the whisper still lingered in the air behind her.

She looked once more at the mango gate, then faced the road ahead.

With family beside us and kindness in our hearts, even a strange path can become a safe one.

End of chapter one. 5 more chapters in the full book.