Rememberer (eBook)
160 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
979-8-3178-0484-8 (ISBN)
Rashid Lumumba was born in Los Angeles, California, in 1979 and has been a storyteller since childhood. At the age of eight, he began crafting short stories, poetry, and music, driven by a need to express what he sensed but could not always explain. Though his creative gifts were evident early on, it wasn't until a high school English teacher offered sincere praise and encouragement that he began to recognize his talent as something meaningful. That early foundation would carry into his college years, where he wrote impactful essays, even though publishing a book was never part of his original vision. Instead, he continued creating through music and poetry, both introspective and thought-provoking in nature. A charismatic introvert, Rashid is just as comfortable on stage as he is in solitude. It is in solitude where his creativity is most alive-where his thoughts can stretch beyond the noise of everyday life. It was through music that he connected with Sharon Nelson, the sister of the legendary artist formerly known as Prince. During a conversation, she encourages him to explore storytelling beyond lyrics and poetry. She suggested he had a voice that needed to be heard in novel form. At the time, he politely dismissed the idea, but her words planted a seed. Years later, after navigating a series of personal trials, he began to feel something shift inside him. The nudge to write-the one he had ignored-grew louder until it could no longer be dismissed. Writing this book became not just a creative endeavor, but a spiritual calling. He believed that finishing it was necessary to realign himself with a deeper truth. Determined to follow through, Rashid retreated to a secluded ranch, far from distractions, and committed himself to the work. His initial goal was modest-just 100 words a day, simply to establish a rhythm. However, as the days passed, the words poured out. The flow became consistent, and the story began to reveal itself. 'The Rememberer' was born from this quiet dedication. His debut novel is an invitation to remember not only the forgotten parts of ourselves but also the larger story to which we all belong. Today, Rashid continues to write from a place of deep reflection and conviction. His work seeks to bridge the seen and unseen, the worldly and the spiritual, and the personal and the collective. 'The Rememberer' is his first novel-but will not be his last.
"e;The Rememberer"e; is a soul-stirring coming-of-age novel about Chike, a boy born with an awareness few will ever touch. Raised in Compton, California, amid both love and instability, Chike is gifted-but also burdened-with a spiritual inheritance he doesn't yet understand. Stones whisper to him, rain responds to his presence, and an ancestral voice calls him toward a path he cannot see: "e;Remember who you are."e;From the early stirrings of mystical power to heart-wrenching moments of loss and alienation, Chike's journey is as intimate as it is epic. After a traumatic encounter with the police tears his family apart, he and his parents flee to a new town but turmoil and awakening follow him. He becomes immersed in faith, challenged by contradictions in scripture, and eventually drawn into trances where spirits speak in symbols and riddles. Along the way Chike is guided by the ancient wisdom of the flower, the butterfly, and the hummingbird each offering truths about life, growth, and love. When tragedy strikes again, Chike is propelled into a full spiritual awakening, one that leads him to Sedona, Arizona where the veil between realms grows thin. There, he meets Little River, a mysterious woman whose entire life was destined to intersect with his. Through her, Chike uncovers the legacy of his great-great-grandmother, Grandolph, a shamanic warrior who defied sacrifice and summoned the rain. With these revelations comes a deeper truth: Chike is the Balancer, the one foretold to restore harmony to a fractured world. Profound yet accessible, metaphysical yet grounded in real emotion, "e;The Rememberer"e; is more than a novel it's a spiritual awakening disguised as a story.
CHAPTER 1
Awakened by a thunderous clap and the sudden downpour of rain, he sat up, attempting to get his bearings. He had been sleeping alongside a creek on an embankment of stones in a secluded area of Sedona, Arizona, under the protective shade of a thick row of trees. He slowly grounded himself and stood up, his head leaned back and hands outstretched, receiving the gift of rain upon his face. Something about the rain always took him back to his childhood. He was a slender man at the midpoint of life, with gray hairs just beginning to bloom in his otherwise dark and kinky hair. His eyes spoke of untold wisdom and his face glowed with a brilliant peace. As he stood in the rain, absorbing its life-giving intentions, he began to recall the long, arduous journey that led him to this moment.
His name was Chike, and he was the son of a laborer and parttime hustler. His mother, Sanaa, a fair-skinned woman with translucent hazel eyes, was a caretaker for the elderly. It was through her that he learned love. His father, Yafeh, although a laborer and hustler, was also a very devout, religious man who prayed five times a day; it was from him that Chike learned the principle of discipline. When Chike was a boy, Sanaa often told him the story of his birth, and he loved to hear again and again how Yafeh had named him and held him up to the moon as his very own offering to this earth. Sanaa would say, “Your father took one look into your eyes and was instantly overcome with emotion. I never saw that man cry until that day. He seemed paralyzed with joy. It was as if you, just a babe, had captivated this adult man and held him as he was holding you. ‘I shall call him Chike,’ said your father. It wasn’t until later that I even bothered to ask what your name meant. The power of God. The power of God! It all made sense.”
Chike was a bright boy with golden brown skin and vibrant brown eyes. His hair was the texture of soft, black wool and his countenance was one of a boy wise beyond his years. At any given moment, one would find various stones, which he loved to collect, in his pockets. Sanaa often scolded him for leaving the rocks in his pants because they damaged the dryer, but Chike just smiled and thanked his mother for finding his missing stones. She could never stay angry at him for long. Nobody could. He had an air of innocent exploration that made his missteps and errors easily forgivable. When Chike thought he was alone, he often imitated Yafeh playing the drums. He engaged himself in this reenactment with such vigor that Sanaa often found him fast asleep, dripping with sweat, his head on the drum and sticks still clutched in his hands. People loved Chike. Adults and children alike were drawn to his magnetic energy and showered him with adoration.
While love abounded within Chike’s world, turmoil in the outside world was brewing to temperatures never experienced. One night while Chike was supposed to be sleeping, he heard Yafeh come home in a frenzy, so distraught that he could barely put together a full sentence. Sanaa made Yafeh some tea to calm him down and then he began to speak.
“Sanaa, baby, the world—our world—is forever changed. You don’t understand what I saw out there today. Complete madness! There is a new drug. I don’t know what it’s called, but it will rock our community, our way of living, everything, baby. Everything!”
Sanaa said, “Yafeh, my dear, we have survived many things. We are a resilient people.”
“Yes. However, this is something different. It just came out of nowhere, almost as if someone put it here just for us. I saw our neighbors, our friends, lined up to get a hit of this shit. It’s turning them into fucking zombies or something!”
“Keep your voice down, Yafeh! Chike is sleeping!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Yafeh responded. He paused, then said, “I just have a terrible feeling about this. Something just ain’t right. We already have to deal with these wanna-be gangsters around here, but I fear this will add another level of danger to the equation. We have got to get the hell out of Compton.”
One summer day when the wind was at a slight breeze and the neighborhood was buzzing with energy, Chike was outside playing with friends when he wandered into a nearby field. It seemed as if his steps were led by an imaginary energy that his curiosity had completely submitted to. When he was a quarter of the way into the field, he suddenly stopped and reached into his pocket for the stones he habitually carried around. Instinctively he pulled them out and began arranging them into a circular pattern in the dirt. Once finished, he sat directly in the center, his legs folded and arms outstretched, his eyes closed, his head facing the sky. He felt a drop touch his face. Then another. Without warning, it began pouring down rain, but Chike remained still as if in some sort of trance. In the distance, the neighborhood children called out to him. No one knew where he had wandered off to and Sanaa was worried since he had not returned at the usual time.
“Over here!” one voice yelled.
“Oh, my God.” Sanaa exhaled a painful sigh of relief. When she reached Chike, he still had not moved. She shook him violently. “Chike! Chike, are you okay? Talk to me!”
At that, Chike snapped out of it and looked around at all the people surrounding him, confused and a bit afraid.
“Are you okay?” Sanaa asked.
“Yes, I am fine,” Chike replied. “What’s going on?”
“Chike, you know you are not supposed to wander off alone. What were you thinking?”
Chike dropped his head and said nothing. Sanaa quickly changed her tone, put a jacket around her son, and said, “Let’s get you home, baba.”
Everyone walked together in silence back to their neighborhood. Through all of the excitement, no one noticed that the rain had stopped just as abruptly as it had begun.
Later that night, when Chike was getting ready for bed, his mother and father came to tuck him in. He asked his father, “What is infinite?”
Yafeh, intrigued, looked at Sanaa and then answered, “It means forever.”
Chike, not satisfied with that answer, asked, “What is forever?”
Yafeh responded, “It means it never ends.”
Chike pondered this briefly and then asked, “Can something that never ends have a beginning?”
Yafeh was puzzled and then slightly annoyed because he could not answer the question. Sanaa interrupted before Chike could notice his father’s annoyance. “No more questions tonight, baby. It’s time to go to sleep, young king.” She tucked him in, kissed him on his cheek, and bid him sweet dreams.
Yafeh, having regained his composure, kissed his son on the forehead and said, “I love you, son.”
“Good night, Daddy. I love you too,” said Chike.
As Chike’s parents lay in bed, Yafeh spoke. “That boy is wise beyond his years. Just a babe and he has already stumped his father!”
Sanaa was silent.
“What’s the matter?” Yafeh asked.
Sanaa paused for a second and then began to speak. “Something happened today with Chike. He went missing for a while and we found him in that old, scary-looking field across the highway.”
“What!? What do you mean, missing?”
“He was outside playing with his friends. I noticed it was getting late and he still had not returned. When I looked outside, all of the other children were already returning home. In a panic, I grabbed some of the neighborhood boys and we went up and down each street until one of the boys spotted him in that field,” Sanaa said as she began to cry.
Yafeh held her close and comforted her. “It’s okay. He’s safe now.”
Sanaa began again. “I’m afraid the story gets stranger, my dear. Do you recall how beautiful and sunny it was today?”
“Not a cloud in the sky,” he said.
“Yes. And then out of nowhere, it began to rain. When we reached that field, Chike was just sitting there on the ground with his stones all around him in some sort of circular pattern. He did not respond to my calls until I shook him. I had to physically shake him for him to come to.”
“What do you mean, come to?”
“He was in some sort of trance. The strangest thing of all is that when he did snap out of it, the rain stopped almost instantly.”
“That’s got to be some kind of coincidence, right?” Yafeh said.
Sanaa shot back, “Since when do you believe in coincidences?”
Two days before the family’s big move out of Compton, a few neighbors got together to throw Chike and his parents a going-away party. They had prepared many delicious, homemade foods. There was mac and cheese, barbeque links, yams, potato salad, steaks, red snapper, collard greens—you name it. Mr. Glasper even made his special rice and peas; the Jamaican recipe had been in his family for generations. The music was amazing! Yafeh’s band played for hours and Sanaa sang. Neighborhood kids ran around playing tag, hide-and-seek, and other games. Everyone was having so much fun, even though they were sad to lose their longtime neighbor. The vibration was electric and the joy was palpable.
One of Chike’s best friends, Shaheed, pulled him to the side....
| Erscheint lt. Verlag | 19.5.2025 |
|---|---|
| Sprache | englisch |
| Themenwelt | Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen |
| ISBN-13 | 979-8-3178-0484-8 / 9798317804848 |
| Informationen gemäß Produktsicherheitsverordnung (GPSR) | |
| Haben Sie eine Frage zum Produkt? |
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