Sometimes, there are hills around the village,
where I live. On certain days, there they are,
surrounding us – sheltering, like a giant cradle;
on other days they’re not there at all.
As long as I can remember, I have wondered
how this could be possible – hills couldn’t appear
and disappear and reappear just like that.
I knew that what I was seeing couldn’t be happening,
but that didn’t change anything. Some nights, I would
go to sleep with plains of wheat as far as I could see
and the next morning I would awake and there they were again –
tall and blue and covered with pine trees full of noisy birds.
When I talked to my friends about this, they were
always puzzled. Apparently, they were unaware
of the odd behavior of our hills. They were polite, but insisted
that I was mistaken. No one else had seen anything.
They also said that, even if I was correct, what difference
would it make – our village is here, safe and prosperous.
How would hills, real or imaginary, change anything?
Surely I could see that. They told me not to worry.
I understood, but when I looked, there they were again!
For the next few days, I walked in them, sat in their shade,
picked their flowers and watched the sun set over them.
When I awoke the next morning, they were gone again.
I ran to the square and asked everyone I met to tell me
if they had seen any hills around our village yesterday.
They all wanted to know why I was asking such a strange
question and they told me again that there aren’t any hills
around our village and there never have been, as long
as anyone could remember. I ran away, as fast as I could,
toward where the hills were yesterday. I ran farther
than I had ever run before, but there was nothing there –
nothing but field after field of corn and wheat and
small herds of sheep and goats grazing on the grasses
that grow along the river. No hills – not today. As I began
to fall asleep, I wondered if they would be there tomorrow?
I awakened the next morning, just after sunrise,
and walked to the well, in the center of our village.
At this time of day, the vegetable market should have been
bustling with farmers and customers and lots of children.
But, no one was there, not even the dogs and the burros
that always came to beg treats from us on market day.
I ran up and down every path, but it was the same everywhere;
I could not find a single villager. I was completely alone.
As I was returning to the well, a long shadow appeared next to mine.
It had the shape of a person and it was moving toward me.
My first instinct was to hide behind the well, but I wasn’t quick enough.
I heard someone yell: “Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.”
“I am Lilakoi, from the hilltop village. What is your name?”
© Stephen Best 2023