CHAPTER 18

Yugi’s Warning

I am floating down the river. The current is moving swiftly, carrying me along toward the rapids, but I am not worried. It is not just because I am a good swimmer. It is because I am with my father.

He nods at me and I nod back at him.

The two of us are going west in this boat, leaving behind the homeland of our people, heading for a new place to live. I am sad to leave behind our old lands, but I am also hopeful. We may be safe there. Perhaps we will be so far away from the white men that they will not follow us and try to drive us from our new land.

I also am not worried because my father and I have faith in this strong boat that is carrying us along. It is like no boat I have ever seen before, but I know why it is so strong. It is not made of wood, but Tsalagi words. All of those words have been written in those symbols that my father has been teaching me to write. Those syllables are braided together like ropes, wrapped tightly into strong bundles. And those syllables are much more than drawn shapes. They are voices, breathless voices whispering encouragement to us.

We will remain together, they whisper.

We will be strong.

We will be Tsalagi

We will never forget who we are.

Then something hits the side of the boat. It’s a stone. Someone is throwing stones at our boat. I can’t see who it is, but I can hear those stones striking.

Tink! Tink!

I have to see who it is. I turn my head and . . .

I find myself sitting up in my bed, rubbing my eyes. The river and the boat made of words are both gone. The only sign of those symbols I have been practicing writing is the piece of paper I left on the windowsill and the bit of charcoal I’ve been writing them with. I had meant to hide them away so that my mother would not see them, but I was so tired last night that I forgot.

I swing my feet onto the floor.

Tink!

Small stones are not hitting the side of that boat in my dream, but the wall of my mother’s cabin beside my window. I get up and look out.

Someone is standing out there, a stone’s throw away. He is half concealed in the bushes on the other side of our garden. He is waving his arm at me now that he has gotten my attention. He leans to the side and his face is visible. I recognize him.

It’s my best friend—or at least the one who used to be my best friend. Yugi.