A Boy and His Rock

Travis knew all too well what a captive was, but he never felt that was his status here. He understood that he was being kept apart from the other Mawrigtoans, but after being alone for so long he was not ready to be confronted with a big crowd of people he could scarcely understand. Above all, the three who looked after him genuinely seemed to care about him. Travis felt for the first time in many years that he had real friends who liked him, and who he liked as well. They were all fascinated by his wall dictionary, and they wondered if it held magic. It awed and scared them sometimes. Once, he wrote Nistesii’s name on the wall and showed it to her expecting a favorable reaction. To his profound surprise she backed away from him, crying out, “No! Do not use your magic on poor Nistesii! Release me from your wall magic, please, Travis, please!” Shocked, Travis tried to explain this was not magic, and he would never harm her, but it wasn’t until he had completely scraped off her name that her anxiety diminished. These were good times for all of them. The three Mawrigtoans took special pleasure from instructing Travis, not only in their language, but also in some of the particulars and peculiarities of their culture. Travis struggled through his language lessons, but found learning a language from real people so much more enjoyable than typing words on a computer screen. Many times giggles or belly laughs echoed out when he made nonsense of a phrase like, ‘The girls have baskets of fish on their heads’ by slipping up with, ‘The girls have baskets of fish as their heads.” One afternoon Rola smiled at Travis. “Why do you put your feet in the water? She’s going to lemifor you again.” He spent more waking time alone with Rola than anyone else. Not since Aunt Lucy had anyone ever truly taken care of him. She was caregiver and teacher, advisor and giver of hugs. He was starting to develop a crush on the beautiful young woman. “Not this time. I’ll be ready.’ Travis sat on a rocky edge of the otherwise sandy strand where the water was deepest. It provided him with the least obstructed view of the cove in front of the grotto. He would get Nistesii this time because he’d see her coming, he thought. He had wondered why she didn’t come to the grotto by boat. Once he raised the question with Smad. He shrugged. “She has no job here, so no one will lend her one. But it’s an easy swim for her, anyway.” An easy swim of a mile? Apparently so, because she never arrived out of breath, and he rarely saw her coming until she was suddenly there dripping on the sand behind him poking him, with a “Gotcha-again!” This time he’d be vigilant and not turn his back on the water. Predictably his attention wavered and he soon became bored and amused himself by tossing a small stone in the air and trying to catch it. He didn’t understand the reason why the rock seemed to act as if a strong wind was blowing it, and thought hard about it. Later he would learn that, unlike things affected by gravity on earth, everything dropped or thrown here always drifted a little to the ‘flowside’. There was a flash of orangy brown beneath the calm surface of the lake, and Travis yanked his feet out of the water thinking it might be some dangerous fish. Then Nistesii was launching herself headfirst into his stomach. “Nistesii!” rebuked Rola as she turned away from the stones she was arranging to cook dinner on. “Give him a chance!” Being nearly three inches shorter than Travis didn’t stop her from trying to drag him into the water, but her wet, slippery hands failed her and Travis was able to twist away at the last moment and push her back in the water alone. The girl came soaring back out the water two seconds later. “That was a tie! Rock-sisters-papaya paste!” she demanded, naming the finger and fist game he’d been unable to translate well into her language. “You didn’t get me in the water!” “You were already in the water before I came.” Rola was appealed to and sided with Nistesii. Of course she won best two out of three, and almost maliciously choose to play ‘spearfishing’. “Why do you pick games like that when you know I can barely swim?” “Because you need the practice.” “And you like beating me?” “Right you are, Snarky Beak!” She said with a nasal tone, and the nose twisting that went along with it made even Rola giggle. He sat straight legged, while she hunkered down on her toes beside him. “Nistesii, look at your fingers. Look at mine. Look at your feet. Look at my feet.” “They aren’t so different. Except for the webbing.” “It’s not just how they look, but what you can do with them!” “What do you mean?” “I can’t swim like you, Nistesii, I mean no one I’ve ever seen can swim like you! You’re like some sort of mermaid girl.” “What’s a mermaid?” “Half girl—half fish.” “Ew. I’d like to meet one, or do I mean eat one? Which parts are girl and which are fish?” “You are one weird girl.”