I spotted it as I was spinning around in the leaves washed up on the riverbank. I’m still not sure why I stopped to pick it up. It was just like any other stone. Oval-shaped and dull gray—almost the color of the muddy sand it sat on. It was as small as one of the nuts on the spindly tree behind our cave. I couldn’t even see it when I closed my fist.
I looked upriver to where my mother sat, moving her hands around in the clear river water. I’m the youngest. She takes me with her all the time. Maybe to keep me out of trouble or maybe since I’m her last baby.
I couldn’t see her face but I imagined she had her eyes closed as she whispered and sang. A breeze ruffled her hair and she stood up, stretching her long arms in the air. I knew I had only a few more moments alone with the stone.
When I first held it, it rolled back and forth until it found a comfortable position. Then a warm vibration traveled from my palm up my arm. I sat down and turned away from my mother. I put my eyes up to my hand and opened my fingers just a crack to check the stone.
“What do you have there?” Mother asked as she walked toward me. Then she sat down next to me and waited for me to talk.
“It isn’t anything. Here.” I placed the stone in her hand.
“Can I wash it for you?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She took me by the hand to the river’s edge. I watched her dip the stone in the water. When she took it out, it had changed. Now it was shiny white with silver blue streaks. It grew more beautiful every second I looked at it.
“Can I keep it?” I asked.
“Bakari, let’s go home,” she said.
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This whole week's worth of story was really terrific! I love this first installment because there's a real sense of foreshadowing and a real sense of foreboding here. It's very subtle, but I feel danger lurking beneath the surface. Nicely done!
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