Las luciernagas

Las luciernagas

A Story by Natale
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I wrote this a long time ago, and to be honest I had completely forgotten that I'd written it. I wanted to write a simple story about a girl and a little piece of a day in her life.

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          “I wonder when all the fireflies will be back,” Amaya said. She picked a blade of grass and held it in front of her face. “It was nice when they were here. It was much prettier. Don’t you think so, Clara?”

          The dog looked over at the girl.

          “I thought you would. It’s too bad. It was nice to look at them. But they might still come back, you know. Sometimes things leave for a long time and then show up again when you least expect it. You just wait; I bet they’ll come back before you know it!”

          Clara continued chewing on the toy she’d brought with her.

          “Maybe we’ll make signs for them so that when they pass by they’ll know that this was where they were last time? It must be hard to remember that sort of thing when you’re a firefly, don’t you think?”

          The girl started dancing on the grass. It was cool and a little wet, but it felt good on her bare feet. She was still wearing her clothes from school; she didn’t care if they got dirty, though. She was only interested in how happy she felt at that moment.

          After spinning around for several minutes, she fell to the ground beside her dog and laughed.

          “I think I danced too hard,” she said. “I can’t see straight. Ah… Do you want some water, Clara? Let me pour you some water.”

          Amaya sat up and reached into her bag. She pulled out a bottle of water and a small bowl and poured some out for the dog.

          “Nice and fresh,” she said as she set the bowl down. “I like this water. It’s a little expensive, but it tastes really good.”

          Falling back into the grass, the girl looked up at the sky. It was almost six in the afternoon; the sun was beginning to set, and the sky was bright orange. She sighed and smiled.

          “I love it when it’s like this. It’s so serene and beautiful. This must be what heaven is like all the time. What do you think Clara?” She reached out and patted the dog on the head.

          Once it started getting dark, Amaya decided that she should be getting home. She stood and picked up her bag, then took Clara’s leash. They walked out onto the sidewalk and started home. Along the way the local baker called her over and gave her a small loaf of bread. He told her that it had been paid for and that she shouldn’t worry about it. She thanked him and continued home.

          The door was unlocked when she arrived. Her grandmother had left it open for her – she had gone to a friend’s house and would probably be out for a while. Amaya nodded to herself and went through the house into the kitchen.

          “All right, let’s make dinner… What shall we have, Clara? How about some chicken and rice? It’s simple, it’s quick and it’s tasty.” She looked at Clara and nodded. “Okay, let’s make that.”

          Amaya’s brother came down the stairs once he smelled the spiciness of the chicken. He scratched his head as he stood over her, watching her make the rice.

          “You just got home,” he said softly. “You shouldn’t be out so late.”

          “And you shouldn’t sleep so late.”

          Her brother scoffed. “You can’t criticize me. I’m your big brother, and I’m sick. So I win. You are supposed to be home by five.”

          “Sure, sure. Just go sit down. If you’re so sick, you shouldn’t be up walking around. I’ll bring you some soup in a little bit.”

          “But I don’t want soup if you’re making chicken…”

          “That’s too bad, you’re getting soup.”

          “Fine, whatever you say. I don’t feel much like arguing with you. I’ll be out in the living room lying on the couch, dying of hunger for real food.” He held his stomach as he walked out of the kitchen.

          “He’s such an idiot, isn’t he?” she whispered to Clara.

          After finishing her chicken, Amaya made a bowl of soup. She took a spoon from a drawer and brought the bowl out to her brother.

          “It’s very hot, so be careful.”

          “Thanks, I didn’t notice the steam coming off it.”

          “You know, you don’t have to have an attitude with me. You should be happy I made you anything at all.”

          “Sure,” her brother said. He turned his head away and mumbled, “Sorry.”

          Amaya sat down next to him and put her head on his shoulder. “It’s okay. I know you’re not feeling good. Just try to remember that I’m trying to help you, all right?”

          “Yeah. Well… Thanks for the soup, anyway.”

          “It’s no problem.”

          “So did you see any fireflies? I remember you said you wanted to try to get a picture of them.”

          “Oh, no… There weren’t any around. It was pretty disappointing.”

          “That’s too bad,” her brother said. He swallowed a spoonful of soup and cringed.

          “What’s wrong? Did I make it too salty?”

          “No. I just hate soup.”

          “Well that’s too bad, because you’re not getting anything else as long as you’re sick. You’ll have to learn to love it.”

          “I don’t want to.”

          “But you have to,” Amaya said, smacking him lightly on the back of his head. “And that’s the end of it.”

          “I won’t eat it.” He put the bowl on the table in front of him and crossed his arms.

          “If you don’t, you’ll stay sick. You can either eat it or be sick. It’s up to you.”

          Her brother stood. “I’ll be in my room if you need me then. If you decide to give me some of that chicken, maybe I’ll change my mind and feel good enough to come back down.”

          Amaya sighed. She let him walk off because she knew he was too stubborn to change his mind. For some reason, the fact that he hadn’t eaten the soup aggravated her. She took the bowl into the kitchen and put it into the refrigerator, then went back into the living room and lay down on the couch.

 

          It was several hours later when she woke. She didn’t even realize she had fallen asleep. When she looked at the clock she panicked, thinking that it would ruin her sleeping schedule that she’d worked so hard to maintain. She stood and stumbled through the hallway, past the kitchen and up the stairs.

          As she passed her brother’s room, she noticed that there wasn’t any music coming from his stereo. She cracked the door open and peeked in.

          He was asleep on his bed with his blanket over his head. On the nightstand beside the bed was an empty bowl, one Amaya recognized as the bowl she’d served his soup in. She closed the door carefully and went down the hallway.

          In her room Clara was asleep on her dog pillow. Amaya climbed into bed, and as she started to turn off the lamp on her nightstand she saw a piece of scrap paper with writing on it. It was from her grandma. It said:

          ‘Amaya – Sorry I got home so late. I didn’t want to wake you, so whenever you see this, good night and sweet dreams. By the way, Miguel told me that he felt guilty about the soup, so he ate it all and said he didn’t touch the chicken either. Do you know what he meant? – Abuelita”

          Amaya smiled and put the note back on her nightstand. After a quick prayer for her brother and her grandma, she shut off the light. Before long she had fallen asleep. She dreamt of the fireflies.

 

© 2009 Natale


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Added on March 2, 2009
Last Updated on March 2, 2009

Author

Natale
Natale

NJ



About
I'm a total amateur. I like to read, though it does admittedly take me a while to start. My favorite author is Ernest Hemingway. I also like lots of other authors, like Paul Auster, Jean-Paul Sartre.. more..

Writing
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A Story by Natale