25 Signs and Symbols

Lily

 

Swimming had tired me. Too much. I was starting to nod off. Arturo felt the loosening of my grip.

“ Lily! Wake up! ”

I sat up straighter and took a few long, deep breaths.

“ We are going to a town, ” he said, determined.

“ Why? Isn ’ t that dangerous? ”

“ We need to find friends. More light in town. More chance to see pistas .”

“ But—”

“ I s decided. ”

I glanced at the time, not yet midnight. I knew it was risky but Arturo was right. I was nodding off. He was having to steer with one hand and squeeze my hand with the other to keep me awake.

After what seemed like no time in my half-asleep state, we were cruising into a town with one main street. The flat, one-story buildings and old-fashioned street lamps caught my attention, helping wake me. Seeing a single traffic light a few blocks ahead, Arturo turned, setting off into a residential area. Fewer lamps lit the side streets, but the place was awake despite the late hour. V oices and laughter of people on porches floated o n the thick air. Monitor shows, too loud, seeped out open windows. The temperature was finally dropping , and folks were still up, at last able to enjoy life if you were among the many who couldn ’ t afford cooled-air systems. They waved and nodded their greeting as we drove by. It seemed a friendly place. Still, we tried to keep our heads down and used the alleys whenever possible.

It was in such an alley that baskets of purple flowers cascading over a fence caught my attention. We ’ d been told any purple flower might signal a Seed Saver . I motioned for Arturo to steer closer. Though there were no lamps in the alley, the inside of the yard had its own lights. The lights shined directly onto the baskets, which each held an array of the purple flowers—and only purple flowers. Could it be? I jumped off the slow-moving bike, awake now and alert.

“ Get off and help me look , ” I said.

Arturo parked the bike and peered over the gray wooden fence, shining his light into the back yard.

“ Be careful, ” I whispered , directing my light along the outside of the fence. That ’ s when I saw it , d own so far that the grass in the alley nearly obscured it. A roughly hewn circle within a circle, so indelicate as to appear crudely scratched by a kid with a rough-edged rock.

“ Here! ”

Arturo was beside me in a flash, adding his light to mine.

“ Yes, ” he agreed. “ I s definitely the symbol. ”