Siki and Zeffelio went to their favorite place, what they called the Sahel, where the beach ended and the forest began. "Where the sand meets the trees," Zeffelio had said the day they had found it. They visited it every Saturday from then on, climbing trees, exploring caves and building sandcastles. On this particular day, the sun was high in the sky. The waves crashed on the beach, and then slipped back into the ocean without a sound. Siki and Zeffelio talked for hours. They played and laughed like little kids, and when they became tired, they slept under the shade of a tree. When Siki awoke, she looked up to see Zeffelio sitting in the branches of the tree above her. She laughed and started to climb up to join him. But as her hand met the rough, dry bark of the tree, she let out a cry of agony. Her hands burned with pain until they were black with depair. The searing pain was too much to bear. She collapsed on the ground in misery as Zeffelio jumped down from the tree and knelt by her side. Siki had never seen so much fear in his eyes. He looked at her hands in a panic. They looked completely normal. But her body continued to writhe in pain, until Siki could no longer feel the pain, only numbness.
