Rivers and Reggae

The fire had burned low. Just embers now, glowing like the memories in their chests.

Magdalyn lay on her back, eyes full of stars.

Nayeli curled beside her, arm slung over her sister's stomach, voice soft.

"Do you remember the river?"

Magdalyn smiled. "Of course I do."

"The big flat rock we pretended was a boat?"

"And you named it 'Shimmer Unicorn.'"

Nayeli giggled. "You told me it could fly if we believed hard enough."

"We did believe. We were wild then."

"We still are."

They were quiet for a while. A log cracked in the fire pit.

Nayeli tilted her head. “And the music? That song Ima always played…”

Magdalyn started to hum it.

Low, sweet, laced with drumbeat and sunshine. Reggae in the woods. Warm wind. The smell of river moss and wild mint.

They threw rocks into the water that day. Over and over. Competing for the biggest splash.

They didn’t know back then they were building something eternal.

They just knew laughter. And Ima’s voice singing with the stereo, arms wide, like she could hug the whole world.

“Ima was happy,” Nayeli whispered.

“She is happy,” Magdalyn said. “We’re going back.”

Another pause.

Then, softly, Nayeli said, “I saved one of the river stones. From the day we left. It was in my sock.”

Magdalyn reached for her hand.

“I saved us,” she said.

And the stars

above them burned like old prayers coming true.