“Yeah, sure!”

From that point on, Shimbekh tried to keep her eyes from meeting his. A desperate plan was going through her mind, one she tried not to think about for fear that it would betray her motives to the pup.

They took a long route to avoid the eyes of the others. It would not do to have others identify her as the last one to see Gur’mekh alive. Eventually they ended up at a deep place in the creek, deep enough to suit her needs.

“Maybe you’ll get your first prawn,” Shimbekh said. “Mmmm, yeah!”

“Are they good to eat?”

“The best. But you have to know where they like to hide.”

Gur’mekh waded into the cold stream, raising his paws high with each step to avoid the chilly water. “Where are they?”

“They live under the rocks. You have to turn them over.”

“Oh.”

Gur’mekh dipped his whole muzzle in the cold water, pushing up a rock with his nose. A prawn skipped backwards, using its tail to flee along the bottom. He smacked at it with his paw and missed, only wetting his underside. “Darn it! They’re fast, Aunt Shimbekh!”

She laughed--a forced laugh that her heart was not in. “You have a better chance in the deeper water.”

“I don’t swim--very good.”

“That’s all right. If you get in trouble, I’ll come after you.”

Gur’mekh waded out until the water lapped at his shoulders. He reached under with his head, pushing up a stone. Between the efforts and the current, his paws lost their hold on the slippery rocks.

“Hey!”

He struggled to right himself, but the current pushed him into deeper water where his feet could not touch the bottom.

“Help! Aunt Shimbekh!”

Shimbekh’s jaw trembled. Her heart began to pound. If Roh’kash willed him to live, than live he shall. If he were to die....

“Help! Aunt Shimbekh, help me!”

She watched the pup that could have easily been her son slide under the water. Sputtering, Gur’mekh broke the surface to gasp in a breath and release it in a yell for help. “Oh gods! Auntie Shim....”

Shimbekh’s maternal feelings yelled for help as well. She sprang up and ran along the bank. “Hold on! I’m coming!”

“Help!”

His small body slipped under the surface. Shimbekh jumped into the water, frantically paddling to his side. She groped around in the water till she found him, then gripped the nape of his neck with her teeth and held his head above the water. He gasped, his eyes wide with fear.

She got him to the bank. Sitting him down, she fell to her side and began to sob. “Poor little boy! Oh gods!”

“Auntie Shimbekh,” he sputtered, coughing.

“Are you all right, honey tree?”

“Yeah. But I don’t like prawns.”

“I know honey. I don’t like them anymore myself.” She began to groom him, tears rolling down her face. Holding him desperately to her with a paw, she stammered, “I was so scared that I’d lose you! No more fishing till you learn how to swim. From now on, you don’t get in deeper than your knees, understand?”

“No problem!” He looked at the water and shuddered, half with cold, half with fear.

“We’ll go hunt you a nice springhare. Would you like that?”

“Yeah! Let’s go away from here!” He leaned against her as they walked. “Thanks for saving me. I love you, Auntie Shimbekh.”

CHAPTER 7: HOPE AND FORGIVENESS

Shimbekh tried not to think of her plan. For all her doubts, one thing was certain--she could not kill a pup. Maybe it WAS the will of Roh’kash that Gur’mekh live. She had to confront her doubts--the warning might have only been a dream.

Shimbekh relaxed and enjoyed their time together. They hunted springhares, played rough and tumble games, told stories and even took a walk to the termite mounds. But more importantly, she looked into his eyes and saw there the gift of his parents. Love flowed into Shimbekh like fresh water from the mountains. Love deep and pure that made Gur’mekh and all he did seem beautiful and holy. And he drew love from Shimbekh, for she had it in abundance.

“Promise we’ll always be friends,” Gur’mekh said.

“I promise it, you little scamp.”

Mid sun had come and gone. As the afternoon grew old, Shimbkeh headed home with Gur’mekh in tow. He was wild about her, and as soon as she lay down to rest, he went to nap with his head on her side the way Gur’bruk once cuddled on Kambra. She reached down with a paw and fondled his face and neck. “You’re a little Gur’bruk,” she said, a tear rolling down her cheek. “He lives in you. May Roh’kash guide your steps little one, and keep you from trouble. Sleep, my love.”

Shimbekh felt a deep, crushing guilt for the trouble she had stirred up. Only she did not know how to apologize, or even if her sister would believe her sudden change of heart.

The afternoon slipped quietly into evening, softly deepening into a wistful shade of azure. Kambra was worried when Bath and Mer’bel came home and said that they had not seen Gur’mekh all day. She was worried and went right out to search for her little boy.

A nagging doubt ate away at her, and drove her to look first at her sister’s home. “Please God, let it be OK. Please, Roh’kash, let him be fine!”

She saw Shimbekh with Gur’mekh snuggled to her side. Terrified, she reached out with her thoughts to see what Shimbekh was planning.

She concentrated with all her might, but she found nothing but love in her sister, a love that overpowered all her suspicions and bathed old shadows in its healing light. Kambra breathed a sigh of relief, then came running to Shimbekh to wake her with a kiss.

Shimbekh looked up into the smiling beauty of Kambra’s face. “Sis!” Tears of joy began to stream down her face. “Please forgive me. I want to I want to be family again--please?”

Now it was Kambra’s turn to cry. “Come back with me. I want you to meet Bath and Mer’bel. Muti and Maleh have been going crazy over this trouble. Oh, honey tree, I’m so happy!”

CHAPTER 8: STICKS AND STONES

Taka yawned, then sat up, blinking at the bright light streaming into the cave mouth. He ambled over to the entrance, squinting. The pain in his left eye still made him wince, but it was better than it was two nights ago.

Looking about, he spied Sarabi and Elanna having fun while Yolanda watched them comfortably from the shade of an acacia. Little Tameka came up behind Yolanda, making the supreme effort to leap over her, but collapsing in a heap on her back.

Taka laughed. “Look at the little frog!”

Sarabi looked around. “Hey, Taka! Are you OK? Wanna play tag?”

Taka ambled over slowly and sat down. He sighed deeply. “I can’t. Rafiki said I have to stay out of the dirt for a week till my eye gets better.”

“Why?”

He stuck his lower lip out in a pout, trying to imitate Rafiki. “Keep da eye clean Master Taka or id’dll get een-FECK-ted.”

“Now Taka,” Yolanda purred with a mild hint of reproof. “Rafiki is only trying to help. You should appreciate what he’s done, saving your eye, and giving you all those herbs for the pain.”

“I know. I’m just bored, Aunt Yolanda. I can’t do nothing!”

“You can’t do ANYTHING.”

“Yeah. That’s what I said.” He scratched some dust up with his back paw and harumphed. “Stupid old badger! Why did he have to scratch my eye anyway! All I wanted was his stupid blessing! I mean, he could have at least faked it or something!”

“Getting angry doesn’t change what happened,” Yolanda said. “Besides, he died for his crime. You shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.”

“You always take up for the ones that act bad,” Taka complained.

“You’re right, you know. Remember the cub that got in trouble by the watering hole? I said I wouldn’t tell on him if he tried to act better.”

Taka looked down, embarrassed. She nuzzled him gently and he rubbed along her side. “Yeah. I guess it works both ways.”