EIGHT

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I sweat bullets, unsure what Matteo's done now... Likely the tribe knows. I can hear people murmur below, but too far out of earshot, even as I use my attempt at deep focus—as if I could sense well enough with Grandfather's voice still hammering at me!

Grandfather is normally kind with me, more so than he would be with others. So, I guess "hammering" isn't really fair. Right now though, he goes on and on about me going missing—I guess he'd heard from Uncle—and then with my losing focus to boot...

I try to appease him. "I never drop things. I promise I'll stay out of trouble."

Grandfather's right to reinforce this lesson. I recall every shocking slip in the moment...that slow motion pain as the skull falls...like it was alive.

And lose it, I have!

My precious skull has got to be utterly injured beyond any use as a find, in spite of Matteo's skill with that catch. I saw it bounce first.

I am to sit in the dark. And Grandfather leaves.

* * *

I don't know at all how to adjust—from elation to darkness. I'm drowning in disappointment and shock. How did I do this?

And it takes a while before I realize how much I've alarmed the revered "Home Grandfather."

What did he say last? I'm in a fog.

Will he call a meeting? Either way, the skull is gone to me now. And more humiliation is coming.

Who will be there when I see everyone next? It could be worse. Many are away on a fetch-quest.

Twenty-four of our strongest men are currently taking shifts throughout the long transition of our statue of Sister Star—the one hundred and fifty eight miles journey, carrying her on their shoulders across steep terrain through the canyons to install her in her new home in the central lowland basin for the next fiesta.

I half wish I was there now. Really, I wish celebrations were to be sooner. Even right now!

I wouldn't be permitted to help, but I might be permitted to join Tabitha, Allegra and Rolando, the cousins who move sheep and goats around in the fields while the celebration is held elsewhere for the adults to "wild".

Tabatha is not rattled by customs. She'd back me up. Or maybe I'll run and hide with the box kids.

But then I wouldn't be able to help bring them our food. And so, I do as Grandfather says, and as I have promised—in haste—I would do from now on.

I swear I can hear the aging of time as it folds around me and blackness spreads out...

I sit...stock still, as I have been taught. I try to be good. I listen for "life in the Allness" to speak from the dark—my chest crushing with intense, shame and cold.

I think, long after my serious but halting efforts have failed, I've gone far beyond this pain in my "trying ", when I finally open my eyes.

As always, I'm shocked. Where am I now? Still sitting up!

How?! The sky is lightning...becoming pale gray.

Can't be!

Where have I been? I can't remember time passing. I've lost track. I'm still in the cave, but it's brightening outside.

If this is real, it is good, by Grandfather's measure. It looks like I've been focussed on inner awareness, and night's become day—without having my say so.

I think that this counts! Will Grandfather forgive me? At least I'll be allowed to fetch food, perhaps—soon as the sun is up fully.

Did Grandfather actually say he'd come back?

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