The path home was a cold and dark one. I wouldn't miss this long walk. Maybe things would be better when spring came. The sky was dark as clouds gathered, hiding the starlight. I kicked off my dusty shoes outside our home and went inside. Mother tied down the last wrap over the top of the roof. I had left it open since the last moon. Tonight’s Hunger Moon had grown full, but I could not see its light.
Mother extinguished the fire, leaving the large rocks beneath it to keep us warm. The embers were fighting to stay alive. She noticed the strange pouch in my hand. "What is this? Did you find a buyer?"
"Oh." I peeked at the pouch and my cheeks flushed. "I found someone who was interested in Chaza." I probably should have tried to find a different deal.
I opened the pouch and poured the beans into my hand, shaking when I reached her. She would yell at me. She would tell me to return them first thing in the morning. "I got these for her." The look of disdain on Mother's face grew a little more with each step I took toward her. She picked up one of the beans and studied it.
She examined them the same way she examined the sky. My mother always found the best in a tough situation. I wanted to know what she thought about these beans. I wanted to know if I should go and get Chaza back from Lulu. I wanted to know if we were going to be ok here in Sleep with only these beans to eat.
But, she did not answer any of my questions tonight. She said nothing at all. Mother's shoulders slumped as she raised a hand to silence me and dropped her flowers to the floor. She drew a vacant gaze to them as she
patted her bedding, curled herself into the furs, and kept any answers she may have had to herself.
I stared at the charred remains of the fire pit, the last of its light and warmth dying away. What was I thinking? Was I even thinking? I hardly remembered making the deal. The memory slipped away from my mind.
My belly growled. I poured water onto the beans and put them on the hot rocks to warm, as Mother had done so many times before. I stirred them gently, but my hand caught a thorn on the edge of our barley basket. I saw nothing left inside. I rubbed my hand quietly. Mother needed to sleep.
The markings on the pouch caught the moonlight. I traced the lines with my fingers as I waited. It stilled my thoughts. A shimmering from the pot stole my attention and I dropped the pouch. The beans tripled in size and turned a deep shade of pink. They carried the same gleam of my necklace.
I wanted to shout to Mother. I wanted her to see them. I did all I could to keep quiet instead. If I just waited, I could show them to her when she woke. She would be so happy. I dropped the warm beans into a wooden bowl and shaved a salt rock over them. She needed to rest, but this would make her feel better.
I picked up the bowl and shuffled my feet to her bed. My knees dropped to the floor by her side. "Mother." She didn't respond. I raised my voice. "Mother." She turned her head over and peered at me, frazzled from her broken sleep. She glanced at the bowl I was holding and then back at me. I lifted the bowl for her to see inside, but she shifted her shoulders and turned back over. She nuzzled her furs tightly and went back to where she was.
My resolve broke when the smell of the cooked beans filled my head and made its way to my belly. I swallowed all the beans without looking at them and jumped into my own bed furs. I took the long crystals of my necklace and curled my fingers around them. They warmed my hands. I found the middle notes and began to play its song, the one I had known my whole life.
