Flow and Crash - Rain Lewis Book 1

Chapter 3

If there were more terrifying words to hear from a parent than "we have to talk" then I was starting to feel worried that I'd never hear them. It wasn't even a question, like, "can we talk?" or "c'mere a minute" it was "we have to talk." That was what worried me. Coming home late, soaking wet, and smelling of spray paint and probably of whatever was in the drink can, I was sure my mom was going to kill me.

As I waited at the kitchen table, lit only by a short, fat candle, I started thinking what regrets I might have. As well as my last words.I'd have liked to have gone on a date with Teneesha Alston, for one thing. I'd really like to have tried ice skating – it looked fun. I definitely wanted to hear how Tez went with Angie, and to hang outwith Jay more. I didn't feel I was long for this world, and it was hella lame because I was just starting to feel better.

What sort of punishment was this anyway? Soon as I got in, and mamma saw me, I was walked to the kitchen, the lights were turned off, and this strange myrrh smelling candle on top of an aso oke covering I hadn't seen before. I was told not to talk, or ask questions, just to sit and wait for her to get back. I wasn't about to argue,considering my night so far. The dark purple smoke of the candle was filling the kitchen, and its scent was making me feel tired. The wear from my escape now setting in to my legs.

Just as my eyelids started to feel heavy, the thud of something heavy on the table startled me wide-eyed. Mom had come back with a book that was as thick as her palm nearly wide as her shoulders. I didn't even see her come in, much less hear her lug that thing in.The grave look on her face decreed I not ask questions. Just to sit and wait, and only speak when spoken to. You're damn right I did just that.

The book's spine creaked like the door of a haunted house, and the dust in the candle light looked spectral. Like a ghost had been released from the pages. As if I wasn't worried enough about being here. The thought of my mamma summoning up some spirit, like the ones she told me about when I was a kid, at bedtime, was enough to make me not want to sleep again. If anybody could do it, it'd probably be her. I forced a smile, not letting any dread or exhaustion show on my face, even though it was pretty much all I was composed of right now.

"Calm down Ojo." she said, calmly.

"Ok."I squeaked. Honestly squeaked.I'd be gladly back in that alley, getting dragged by a bunch of Three Pins right now. Mamma licked the tip of her finger and slipped a few pages past in the book. The candlelight shining through the pages revealing familiar shapes; a sort of English mixed with Arabic, but sharper. It was the Yoruba language. Mamma had tried teaching it to Kareem and me back in the day. It never took, much to her irritation.

A few more pages flapped by when she stopped, revealing a strange symbol. It wasn't anything African, at least from I could tell, but it wasn't anything else either, like Asian, or Celtic, or Hindu but it was old. That was the only thing I could be sure of. I broad circle, which appeared black in the dim light, showed something in the shape of a small child on one end and a human skull at the other. My throat tightened at the sight of it.

"This world is one of dueling forces." Mamma began, placing her finger on the image of the child, slowly tracing the circle towards the skull. "Life and Death." she dragged her finger back up to the child. "Day and Night. Good and Evil. Where there is one there is always the other, ever in constant struggle, always shifting."

I was transfixed by the image and the trail my mom's finger made along it. Glimmers of red and blue became clearer to my eyes as she did, the candlelight revealing more of the ancient symbol. Then something else caught my eye, something that looked as if it'd appeared from nowhere but was there the whole time. I just hadn't noticed it. In the center of the circle was a small, bright, patch.At its heart was the shape of a human. Mamma continued.