I don’t fully understand why he matters so much to you,” Nibi said thoughtfully. “But I do understand that he—and your mom (that’s her name, isn’t it?)—are very close to you.”
“The closest! The closest of all!” Erich burst out, embarrassed by how intense his own voice sounded. “You don’t even know… it was right here, in this spot—he fell. The doctors said it was an aneurysm. I don’t know what that is, and I don’t even want to think about it.
“What matters to me is this: there’s the place where he’s buried (but I never go there, because he just lies there, and I want him walking with me—even if only in my thoughts), and then there’s this place. Mom and I honor it, bringing flowers here every time.”
“So why aren’t there any flowers now?” Nibi asked, surprised.
“Because it’s fall. I’d pick some if there were any growing, but you can see—nothing. Mom and I will go to the flower shop soon and get a fresh bouquet.” Erich pulled an orange bead from his pocket and set it down at the edge of the little shrine. It was his father’s favorite color. The bead rested there, swaying slightly, like a lone tear trembling at the edge of his eyelid.
Maybe Nibi hadn’t learned human delicacy yet, because she shook him by the shoulders.
“Why are you sad? He’s not here! His journey goes on. Just not here, and not with you.”
“Really?!” At first, Erich felt like snapping at her, but instead hope leapt out of him. “Are you sure?!”
“Of course! Don’t be silly. Everyone has their own path. Yours is short right now—from school to home. His? A huge adventure ahead.”
Turning away, Erich wiped at his cheek in secret.
Enough. I’ve embarrassed myself enough already—frozen stiff while we were bullied, and now crying here, when I said this place calms me down.
Anger at himself bubbled up, and he blurted out:
“You know what? I shouldn’t have brought you here. This was a mistake… let’s just go home.”
But Nibi didn’t seem to hear. She leaned back against the trunk and softly began to sing.
He caught only one word—lats—and it jolted him like electricity.
“Wait! Your jeans aren’t bulging anymore. Where’s your… your lats?”
In her usual mysterious way, she answered:
“When I get very sad, it falls off. It’s alive too, and it feels my pain. Back in the schoolyard, I felt sorrow, and it couldn’t handle it—it detached. Lats knew it was powerless to help me. See? You’re not the only one who feels things deeply. We’re a lot alike.”
“Maybe…” Erich muttered. “So… are we leaving?”
“Can I stay here a while? I want to sing. I like this part of human culture. I want to taste it the way I did tea and muffins.”
“Okay. You remember how to get back?”
“I know how to get back up there—what you call the Cosmos—and I know how to get to your house.” She spoke with steady seriousness. “I plan everything ahead.”
Erich didn’t know what to say. He just nodded awkwardly, shoved his hands in his pockets (why? it looked so dumb), and hurried off, leaving this newly minted singer behind.
Even though it was only two in the afternoon, a bright streak lit the sky, like a comet. But the boy, lost in thought, didn’t even notice.6Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiSGfHD1dY8
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and then Add to home screen.