Shara’s Marbles – A Short Story

Shara sat under a tree, his eyes on the ground, gazing absently at a tiny plant, bent and bruised from the many people and animals that had trampled it. All around him people were bustling about, some trying to sell and some trying to buy what villagers from nearby villages had brought to market.

A short distance away, a group of children were engrossed in a game of marbles. They had dug small holes in the ground and were trying to drop marbles into them. Every time one of them knocked another’s marble into the hole, he won his owner’s marble. Shara had lost all of her marbles to the boys.

They had made fun of him when Shara first showed them her beautiful marbles and forced him to join them in their game. A merchant from far away had given them to Shara in gratitude for Shara’s help. Shara had never seen marbles as beautiful as these and, although he had never played marbles with the children, he joined them to show that he was not afraid.

“Shara, you don’t know how to play them. You’ll lose them to us,” said one.

“If you have the courage, come play with us and then see who they belong to,” said another.

“You are a coward, Shara! You will never have the courage to play with that,” said another child.

“Hello,” said a man’s voice.

Shara looked up through his big sad eyes and saw a tall man with a big face looking down at him. He had long hair and a chest-length beard.

“Hello,” Shara replied.

“I know why you’re sad. It’s because you’ve lost your mind. Here, come with me,” the man said, offering Shara his hand.

“Do you have marbles like those? Can you give me some?” Shara’s eyes lit with hope as she took the man’s hand and rose to her feet.

“I could, but that’s not why I want you to come with me,” the man replied, starting to walk away from the market.

Shara looked confused, her eyes losing the sparkle they had revealed moments before. She hesitated and then decided to follow the friendly-looking man, quickly combining his long, slow steps with his small, fast pace.

They walked in silence for a while and Shara noticed that they were leaving the village with its small houses of stone and mud. “See that hill over there? That’s where we’re going,” the man said, as if he read Shara’s mind.

“But no one goes there,” Shara said, alarm ringing in her voice, “there are bad things there. If someone goes there, the evil catches them and makes them suffer.”

“Hmmm… we’ll find out what’s in there. Let’s see for ourselves,” the man replied. “Don’t you want to know my name?”

Shara nodded her little head.

“You can call me Jumba,” the man said, “…where I come from, it means a friend, a good friend. Do you think I can be a good friend?” The man’s eyes sparkled as he looked at Shara. In response, Shara nodded again. She was thinking about the marbles she had only had one day before the boys took them from her.

As they walked into the desert, Shara saw a wild rabbit, its fur shining in the afternoon sun, shot out from between Jumba’s legs and wondered why the rabbit got so close. Every time she wanted to play with them and pet them, they would run away from him. Suddenly, Jumba turned to Shara and asked, “Do you want to play with the rabbit?”

“Yes please! I love rabbits,” Shara said in an excited voice.

Jumba stopped and let out a strange low sound, as if calling to the rabbits in a language they understood. They suddenly appeared out of nowhere and gathered around Jumba’s legs. Shara counted… four, five, six… and yelled with delight… “Look Jumba, they’re trying to climb up your legs.”

Jumba knelt down and picked up one, the smallest, and ran his fingers over the rabbit’s head and neck. Reaching into the pocket of the robe she was wearing, she pulled out a radish and placed the rabbit next to it, letting it sniff it before she began to gnaw on its fresh, juicy white meat.

Shara was delighted and wanted to pick up the little rabbit and cradle it in her arm like Jumba had done. Jumba waited while Shara walked over to the rabbit. She sniffed and stepped back a little at Shara’s approach, but sensing no danger, she continued to bite into the radish. Shara noticed the rabbit’s interest in her radish and decided not to bother him anymore.

“Come, let’s go,” said Jumba when the rabbit finished his meal.

They walked for about forty minutes until they reached the bottom of the hill. On the way, Shara noticed how other wild animals were approaching Jumba and he was calling to them in a low voice, speaking a language that Shara didn’t make sense of.

As he started up the hill, Jumba lifted Shara onto his shoulders and sat him there, saying that this way he wouldn’t be tired and could see far away as well. “Tell me if you see any evil,” Jumba said, a smile on his face. The path was steep, but Jumba climbed easily, his breathing measured and even. Shara sat silent, watching to see if she could spot any evil creatures and warn Jumba if she did. Jumba hummed under his breath as he carried Shara up the hill.

Soon Shara found herself at the top of the hill. He was relieved that he hadn’t seen any evil creatures along the way. Jumba lowered him onto a rock where Shara could look in all directions.

“Why are we here?” Shara asked, puzzled by the sights she could see from her position.

“Let’s see,” Jumba smiled.

“But there are no marbles here,” Shara had hoped her trip would bring her a bag full of marbles, though Jumba had made no such promise.

“Marbles!” Jumba laughed, “so that’s why you came with me!”

Shara nodded.

“Well, that’s not a problem. But that’s not why we’re here,” Jumba replied gravelly.

Shara looked downcast, thinking that her trip had been a waste.

“Look,” Jumba pointed out, showing Shara where to look, “what do you see there?”

“Marbles!” Shara squealed with joy.

‘Yes, they are marbles… like the ones you had.

“Let’s go find them,” Shara yelled happily.

“Okay, but let’s sit down first and chat for a while and freshen up before we go there. Don’t worry, the marbles aren’t going anywhere.

Jumba reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag. Wrapped in neat little packets were sandwiches and a bottle of water. Jumba handed one to Shara and opened one for himself and began to silently chew on his, staring deep into her thoughts.

They ate in silence. Shara enjoyed the snack, finding the sandwiches fresh and tasty and the water cool and invigorating.

“Shara, if you take a bag full of marbles to town, the other kids will ask you where you got them. If you tell them, they’ll all come here and take their own bags. And, if everyone has that many marbles, no one is going to want someone else’s.” , and no one is going to admire yours because they will have enough of their own, if you don’t tell them they will accuse you of stealing them from the merchants who come to the market. Do you?” Jumba asked, as they walked towards the small cave full of marbles.

Shara thought for a while, then replied, “I won’t tell anyone. If they accuse me, it’s okay because I really haven’t stolen them from anyone. Therefore, no merchant will blame me either.”

“Okay,” Jumba said and they headed for the cave. Shara was excited as he took handfuls of the beautiful marbles and stuffed them into his pockets until they were so full they fell every time she moved. He decided to take only as many as he could fill his pockets and come back for more when he lost them to the boys at marbles.

After Shara had delighted in playing with the marbles, carefully choosing the ones she loved the most, they decided to return to the village. On the way back, Shara was chatting animatedly. Jumba remained silent as she waited for Shara to exhaust her enthusiasm.

“Shara, marbles don’t bring happiness,” said Jumba.

“But they do jumba,” Shara objected. “When the kind merchant gave me those marbles, he brought me a lot of happiness,” she continued.

“Yes and no,” said Jumba, “let me explain… you didn’t care about the marbles and they brought you neither happiness nor sadness until the dealer gave them to you… and then when the other boys all took an interest in your marbles and they wanted you to play with them, that’s when they brought you what you call happiness, you understood then, that you had what everyone wanted and that it was in your hands to give it to others, if you wanted, seeing that everyone wanted what you had , you were happy… and then when you lost them all, you lost their grudging admiration or jealousy… then, you were sad.”

“Hmmm, I guess that’s true…but still, I’m happy now that I have these marbles…and I can play with them. And, when you see how many marbles I have, all…” Shara stopped, vaguely realizing that he was about to say what Jumba had just said.

“Yeah, go ahead… complete what you said… Everyone will be jealous? Right?” Jumba continued where Shara had stopped. “So what that means is that the fact that they are jealous is what will bring you happiness, right? And not the marbles…” Jumba said.

Shara looked confused, “maybe… but at least, I’ll be happy.”

“Yes… but for how long? Until the marbles last? Until they are taken from you? Or until others have more than you? One of these things will happen very soon and it will be the end of your happiness. .. .” Jumba smiled at Shara, her eyes questioning.

“You’re right, Jumba… but…” Shara didn’t know what to say.

“But, at least for now, you have happiness… that’s right… however, the happiness you have now can be yours forever,” Jumba offered, his eyes sparkling in the evening light.

“How, Jumba?”

“Well, I can tell you, but first I want to know what you’re going to do with those marbles you’ve been stuffing your pockets with. They’re so heavy they’re pulling down your pants…” Jumba laughed.

“I won’t tell you,” Shara said, delighted that for the first time she knew something Jumba didn’t. Saying this, she ran towards the village, her hands in her pockets. As Shara ran, she kept putting her hands in her pockets and then taking them out of hers, counting all the while. Jumba followed, but Shara ran fast and Jumba’s long strides couldn’t catch up. When Jumba entered the village and reached the tree where she had first spoken to Shara, she noticed that Shara was already there and she was waiting for him.

“Look, look,” Shara said as she took the bags out of her pocket, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Jumba smiled a knowing smile. Shara’s pockets were empty but her face was shining.

Author’s Note: My editors in China wanted me to shorten this story but that was something I felt could not be done without losing some of its flavor. Please share your thoughts on this story and also any suggestions you may have to improve it. I plan to write a book with the same characters exploring certain ideas that are normally taken for granted. Please tell me if you think that could work.