By the time Ahyokah reaches us, my father is far away on the other side of the field. She holds out her hand and Big Rattling Gourd gives her the paper with the message on it. She climbs up onto a box that has been placed so that everyone in the crowd can hear her.

“THIS IS WHAT MY FATHER WROTE,” Ahyokah shouts in a high clear voice, “‘BIG RATTLING GOURD JUST SPOKE. HE ASKED IF THE TALKING LEAVES CAN REALLY SPEAK TSALAGI.’”

A few people are turning and looking at one another in amazement. But everyone is not yet convinced. In fact, I see that some people are still muttering. My keen hearing is good enough to pick up what they are saying.

“That was easy,” someone sneers. “Tla! It proves nothing.”

“Just trickery,” the woman next to him agrees.

“I still think it is witchcraft!” another person says.

My father is still far away on the other side of the ball field. My little sister is standing up there all by herself. Someone has to do something!

The next thing I know I have stood up and my legs are carrying me forward in front of the crowd. I stop when I am next to Ahyokah who looks up at me with trusting eyes and then reaches out to take my hand. Everyone is looking at us. But what should I do now? What can I say? Why did I put myself in front of the crowd like this?

I feel a hand on my shoulder. Someone else has joined us. It is my true friend Yugi.

“Go ahead,” he says to me in a low voice. “You will know what to say.”

I take one deep breath and then another. Then I speak in a voice so loud that it surprises even me.

“SPEAK ANY MESSAGE TO MY SISTER,” I shout to the crowd. “SHE WILL WRITE IT AND MY FATHER WILL READ IT.”

I hand my sister a piece of paper and the pen.

For a moment the crowd is silent. Then the person who just said that nothing had been proven stands up. I recognize him now as Black Fox, the father of my former friend Ugama. Ugama has remained sitting in the crowd and the look on his face is not unfriendly. In fact, he looks sad.

“I have a message to be written,” Black Fox says.

He walks up and stands over my sister who has placed the paper on the table in front of her and is holding her pen.

“Write this,” he says. Then he leans so close that even I cannot hear the words he whispers in her ear.