AS A TURTLE, Ebo screams,

like he is my teacher.

You are not my boss, I answer,

taking a break

before launching

into my third stretch.

WATCH AND LEARN, CHALE! I scream.

For hours,

I fly through the water

like a black eagle,

tightly gripping the current

with each stroke

of my arms,

kicking my legs

in sync,

and thinking

about nothing

but the flow.

THE SUN IS BLUE

with hints of red

when Ebo bets me

that he can stay

underwater

longer than me,

then red

with hints of orange

when I finally emerge

a full hundred count

after he does

and see him

pouting

because he has lost

and now has to eat

a dung beetle.

I heard beetles also make you taller, I say, breathing deeply,

and laughing out loud.

TRANSLATION

Even though Ebo knows

far fewer of Mr. Phillip’s foreign words

than I do,

his spot-on imitation

is easy enough

to understand,

and it has me

in stitches.

I will like Kofi Offin to speak

like a goat. Because I am a goat.

The Queen’s English is

very, very good,

not BAAAAAAAAd!

He is on a roll

and I am nearly

on the ground

bowled over

in amusement

by his perfect performance

when we hear a noise,

a whisper

a sigh

a hum.

Chale, shhhh! Do you hear that?

Yes. A talking drum.

Sounds like it is crying.

It is late. We should go.

It grows louder.

It is getting closer.

Do you think it could be—

I think we should run, Kofi.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE STORY OF THE CRYING WATER

There was even a time when the setting of our sun brought shadows from other places… near and far… white shadows who ignored our peace… who arrested our dreams… who clamored for our gold… And they did not stop until they got what they came for… until every speck of gold lined their pockets… The Offin River was cursed… from source to mouth… Many beautiful ones disappeared… they were taken under the black sky and unborn… If you listen closely, you can still hear their wails beneath the water… When Offin is hungry for attention, there is no crying for mercy, no begging… only demand… And once it has you, you will not return… The water is not your friend, at night…

BREAK

It is my father’s day off

so I am allowed

to miss my schooling

and go with him

and Nana Mosi,

first to the market,

then to visit the carvers

who shape timber

into tables

and jewelry

and other precious items.

They surprise me

with a polished mahogany marvel

to mount

the small waves

in our river—my own board

that will dwarf Ebo’s.

Next, we head

to the clearing

so I can learn

how to shoot

arrows.

Not to make war, Nana Mosi says. To be prepared

in case someone else makes it

for you.

After several rounds

of bad aims

and mis-shoots,