A Treasure Hunt and Colored Beans

A plane rumbled through the sky as we played in the street. My siblings and I rarely got the chance to play with the street kids; our parents didn’t want to get us tainted with their less urban sensibilities, so every chance we got to run around with them was fully exploited. TV was fun but nothing beat running around with other children.

We danced around the fire on a refuse pile, singing native songs and sharing the exaggerated stories we had been told by elders. Some of the children expressed their thoughts about the validity of some of these stories with us; how is it possible for a chicken to have created the world by scattering sand Akintayo argued. He saw through the Yoruba creation story at such a young age, while I was still planting all the odd colored beans I could find in hopes that a beanstalk to heaven would emerge.

My brother suggested we go on a treasure hunt, so we drafted our own treasure map and hid pieces of make shift treasure everywhere. Everyone added an X to the map to indicate where they hid their treasure, the person who found the most treasure was crowned the victor.

We played for hours and lost track of time. The treasure hunt took us beyond the areas our parents approved, and when it was night time they had a small search party call out our names in search.

We were punished that day. We weren't allowed to play outside again.

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This is my entry for the story cubes contest. I used the calling, airplane, fire, treasure map and beans symbols.

Image courtesy of pixabay.com

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