The Storyteller's Beads by Jane Kurtz

Author:Jane Kurtz [Kurtz, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

TEN

Shiftas

Rahel's hand felt numb on Dawit's shoulder, her stomach tight with hunger. At first, she and Dawit and the others from their village had eaten together, sharing the unleavened travel bread they all had brought. Now, everyone was down to grain and dried peas. They ate bits of these when they must. She tried not to think of what would happen when the food was gone.

"What was Gondar like when you got to visit there?" Rahel whispered to Dawit to keep her mind off her stomach and one aching foot. She hoped the guide was far up at the front of the line and couldn't hear.

He panted a moment before starting to tell her, in a low voice, about the old capital and the stone castles built by the Ethiopian kings so long ago.

"Was the Emperor Tewodros one of them?"

"No, that was later. His capital was on the cliff of Magdala. Listen, though." He continued. "In one of the castles in Gondar, the king and queen had separate dining rooms, tables, even shelves to put their crowns on. I heard one of the tour guides say the castles were built by Beta-Israel, but I do not know if that is true."

Rahel thought about that. It might be true. After all, her people had the secrets of working iron, why not stone? They had suffered much for their secrets. "And Addis Ababa?" she asked.

"The mountains were not so rugged as up here in the north. Cars ran everywhere like spiders on the roads." She felt him hesitate. "Shhh. I think the guide has stopped, Rahel. Wait here and let me go up the line and find out what's happening."

While she waited, Rahel rubbed at her foot until she found the thorn that was making it ache. She wondered where they were. Every night she would whisper to Dawit, "What does it look like here?" He would say, "Another deep gorge. We'll be going down into it and out the other side." Or "We have a sharp ridge to climb." Sometimes he said, "It's too dark to tell." She wondered, then, if he was just trying not to say frightening things.

She heard the light step of Dawit's feet. "This climb is one of the worst," he whispered. "People are throwing away anything they can to make the walk lighter. I saw an ankelba one woman had thrown away."

Rahel sucked in her breath. The only reason to throw away an ankelba would be if the baby was no longer there to be carried in it.

"Rahel," Dawit said. "You need to throw away the pot you've been carrying. Maybe the flute, too."

She felt his fingers tugging at the bag. She curled her fingers tightly around it. "It's the earth," she wailed softly. "I cannot leave it."

"Rahel." She felt him move away. In a few minutes, he pressed something into her hand. "I scooped up some dirt for you in this little bag," he whispered.

She kissed the pot, then let him take it, holding tightly to the flute.

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