"Where ta begin?"

 

"At the beginning Nana!" yelled Tom.  The elderly woman smiled at this and new that Tom was going to be a handful for his mother during his teenage years.  'Maybe he has some of An'nsi in him,' she thought.

 

"Right, child.  My brada Patrick was in Nigeria, doin some writin' bout da corrupt man who run da gov'ment.  Along his travels, he hear-tell of a spida-man in da deepest jungles of Afrika.  My brada, ever da 'xplorer, could nada wait till his paper was done 'fore he went to da jungle.  He stayed at a village of a nice peopl' and gatha'd stories bout An'nsi.  Once he knew da general direction to go, he left da village."

 

"Did he bring anyone with him?"  asked Greg.

 

"Na, child, my brada was always a loner."

 

"But Nana, wasn't he afraid?"  asked Sarah.

 

"Na, child, he don been 'xplorin since before your fada was born."  At this, Sarah's face fell, but a moment later it was gone.  "Ima sorry, child, we'll all miss ya fada."  Sarah nodded her understanding and bade her grandma to continue.

 

"Where was I?  Ah, yes, he had just gone into da jungle alone..."

 

"Patrick had been searchin' in the jungle alone for t'ree days, when he foun' a clearing.  In it, he saw a burnt little hut, witha trail of black leadin' to it.  Curious, he 'xplored the ruin, lookin at brokin pots and burned clothes, wonderin' who had lived there.  No sooner had he thought this, than he h'ard a voice say 'help me.'  Takin aback, my brada ran out da house and stopped at da edge of da forest."

 

"Just like Sarah!" shouted Tom, unable to contain the snide comment.

 

"I would not!  Besides, what if the voice was from a lion?"  asked Sarah.  The Jamaican woman smiled at this, thinking 'maybe she wasn't so shy after all, maybe just a little cautious.'

 

"'Nough, childr'n.  Back to da story.  My brada was not too sure 'bout dis mysterious voice and he called out to it 'Voice,' he said, 'Who are you and what da ya want?'  He waited for a reply and after hearing none, again called out 'Voice.  Ima not gonna help ya till I know who you are!'  At this the Voice moaned back, 'It be me, Ash, son of Fire.  Who be you?'  Now Patrick was sma't and he gave da false name David.  'Well David,' said Ash, 'Why don' ya help me pull myself together, so that Wind don't take me away!'"

 

"Wait!  Wind, Ash, Fire?  Who are these people and where do they get their names?"  It was Greg this time and he had a point.

 

"Child, they be da elemental people."  The woman said, leaving it at that.

 

Though Greg looked confused, he didn't say anything and she began again.

 

"My brada, rest his soul, was kind 'nough to help Ash.  He swep' him into a big pile and asked him how he got there.  Ash responded that it was a long story, to which my brada said, 'I got time.'  Thus, the story goes.

 

 

"'And dat is how my fada fool An'nsi!' proclaimed Ash.  My brada had been takin' car'fa notes and when he was done, swept Ash into Wind, so that no one else could hear da story.  When he was done, my brada continued his 'xplorin..."

 

 

Author's Note:  This story was based partially on "Fire and Anansi" by Martha Warren Beckwith, from her collection of stories entitled Jamaican Anansi Stories (1924).  In the original story, the author maintained the Jamaican dialect that the story had been told in and I wanted to maintain that character, while not overdoing it--such that it wouldn't be understood.  The part based on the author's story has been italicized for clarity and to show a distinction between my characters and the story that had been told, though it has been changed in a few ways. Firstly, I didn't allow Ground Dove to warn Anansi properly, as had been done in the original telling.  And secondly, I invented Ash as a mechanism to convey the story of Fire and Anansi, which I couldn't tell from Anansi's view (for reasons you'll find about later).  Likewise, Fire couldn't tell the story as he burned up everything and would have left afterwards.  Overall, I think the story conveyed the necessary message that Anansi could be tricked and that someone would be there to later tell the story-lest they disappear.  I hope that the readers enjoyed this and all comments, both good and bad, are welcome and appreciated!