The Shimmering Ones

By Sandy Jank

Jem Stoneheart is a teenager who lives with his missionary parents deep in the heart of the Amazon rain forest, where he grew up, becoming fluent in the native language at an early age. He spent countless hours enthralled by the tales told around the village fires at night, tales of impossible things--beautiful, shimmering people who seem to disappear at will, frightening evil creatures, giants even.

These legends and stories seem to call out incessantly to Jem when he hears them. These fleeting glimpses of an exciting fantasy world were about to become very real as Jem Stoneheart and his best friend, Paco, explore the remote headwaters of a legendary river.

Not only is this fantasy world real, but everyone seems to be eagerly awaiting their arrival! Could Jem Stoneheart really be the long-awaited "Gem-Stone," who could wield the power of the great sword Azul? Were he and Paco really supposed to help free the Havelfin? Jem and Paco sure didn't think so. At least not at first.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9781639610266

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The Shimmering Ones

Sandy Jank

Copyright © 2021 by Sandy Jank

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 1

The shadowy gray light from the sun’s first rays were just reaching to the top of the trees when Jem slipped out of the side door of the old, white mud house. He stretched, hands reaching high over his head, yawning hugely.

Why in the world had he planned on leaving so early? Surely it wouldn’t have hurt to sleep just a bit longer…but no, they had a long way to go if they wanted to get to Waqueshi before dark. Then they had better get going.

He gave a shrill whistle, and before long, four others were joining him. His companions were Yanomamö from the village of Cosh, where his parents worked as missionaries. Having grown up with them, Jem spoke their language fluently, and communication was not an issue. Soon, their chatter, and laughter rippled over the still morning air.

Are we ready? Jem asked. At their nod, Jem turned toward the river.

Come on then, let’s go.

They made their way silently to their dugout canoe, and quickly they flung their bags and sacks into the bottom of the boat. Then still silent, they took their places, and starting the motor, they headed up the river.

Jem was the first to break the silence when he leaned forward to speak to one of his friends.

Hey, Paco, he yelled above the sound of the motor. Come back, and sit with me so you can tell me again the legend of the Shimmering Ones.

Why is it you always want to hear about the Shimmering Ones? His friend asked, laugher sparkling his eyes. Don’t you know that this story comes from foolish old men? It is a story of the spirits. Surely, you don’t really think there is truth in them?

Stubbornly, Jem shook his head. I… I don’t know what to believe, to be honest, Paco, he said softly. For the ones who say they have seen them, speak so…so truthfully.

His friend sighed. Ah, yes, the Shimmering Ones. There is mystery even in their name. What does it mean really? He shrugged, turning further in his seat to better face his friend. You know, Jem, they haven’t been seen in years!

He laughed, seeing the stubborn glint in his friend’s eyes. Then shrugging again, he sighed. All right, Jem, but you come sit by me. You are too close to the motor, and I don’t want to keep yelling.

They were seen only in the moonlight or misty mornings, Paco began once his friend was seated beside him. The legends say they slipped about quietly and disappeared into thin air if anyone ever happened to see them. They are said to be a beautiful people, Jem. They were tall people, more like you than us, and they were always laughing. We believed whoever saw them would find happiness.

He paused, gazing dreamingly into the jungles, but at a nudge from his friend, he continued.

We call them the Shimmering Ones, not only because of their hair, but also because of their clothes. The old people, the ones who saw them, say their clothes were beautiful beyond description. They were white but such a pure white that they appeared to reflect a thousand different colors.

Your uncle swears this is true, Jem interjected eagerly. Doesn’t he tell about seeing them on the river once? Surely he wouldn’t lie!

The friendly sparkle died from Paco’s eyes, and he gave his friend an impatient look. It’s just an old wives’ tale, Jem! How else can you explain them disappearing into thin air?

He saw the eager questioning look flash in his friend’s eyes and sighed. I’m sure you have heard this story, Jem. You just mentioned my uncle saying he had seen them. It’s all part of that story. At the impatient shake of his friend’s head, he sighed again, then continued.

My uncle was out fishing. He had been out all night and caught very little. He says he was very tired and almost asleep as he paddled down the river. When suddenly, from out of nowhere, a canoe was in front of him. Paco laughed, shrugging, I think he was probably dreaming, Jem, but uncle says the canoe was different than any he had ever seen, and so he started paddling quicker, hoping to overtake the boat. Soon, he was close enough to the boat to see the people. They were beautiful, brilliant, shining, and uncle was very excited. ‘At last,’ he thought, ‘I see the Shimmering Ones!’ Without thinking, he jumped up excitedly, calling out. But to his amazement, the people, the boat, everything just disappeared. How do you explain this, Jem. If my uncle wasn’t dreaming, and he really did see those people, then they are spirits, and one should not show too much interest in the spirit or else—he grinned—according to the legends, the spirits will come and take you away.

Jem laughed, then reaching out, he grabbed his thermos and poured himself a cup of coffee. Here. He handed the thermos to his friend. Take some, then pass it on back to the others.

For about five minutes, silence hung over the group, with only the chugging of the motor disturbing the quietness around them. Then Paco once again turned to his friend. Leaning forward, he gently touched the thin band of gold that Jem wore on his head.

You like it, don’t you, Jem? he asked softly.

Jem nodded, a smile lighting up his startling blue eyes. You know I do, Paco. It’s the dearest thing I own. I just can’t believe that you gave it to me. Why didn’t you keep it for yourself?

Paco shrugged. It was your birthday, what else could I do? His laughing gaze met Jem’s, then slightly embarrassed, he turned away.

Don’t you think it’s strange? Jem asked. I mean, isn’t it weird that you found it up at Waqueshi? You guys always say no one has ever lived up there.

No one ever has, his friend assured him. At least not in the history of my people.

Again, a hush fell over the little group that lasted till they finally reached their destination. It was late in the evening when they reached Waqueshi, and hurriedly, they threw together a hut of poles and leaves. After a quick bath in the river, they shared a bowl of glop—a concoction that Jem had made from dry oats, powered chocolate, and powdered milk. It’s something his friends delighted in sharing. They laughed together about different hunting trips they had been on while drinking several cups of coffee. Jem was sure they would all be wired and not much sleeping would be done, but in reality, it didn’t take long for them to quiet down and settle into their hammocks. And soon, most were fast asleep.

Jem lay in his hammock and watched the moon. Full moon wasn’t really a good time for hunting, but he had been impatient for a good hunting trip and had decided to go anyway. He groaned silently, half annoyed at his friends who were all fast asleep. He wished that he could join them, but for some reason, he couldn’t sleep.

"Come on Jem, he chided himself. Get some sleep, or you won’t be any good for tramping through the jungle tomorrow." He watched as the moon sailed lazily over the trees, making a golden shimmering light on the silver water as it leaped and laughed from rock to rock. A beautiful place at any time, but in the moonlight, it looked like a strange, beautiful fantasy land. Suddenly, he jerked upright, his eyes widening in surprise.

It can’t be! He told himself. I have to be dreaming or—he glanced over at Paco, who was sleeping soundly—or all of Paco’s old wives’ tales are finally making me go loony. But no. Over the rapids, he could hear plainly what sounded like laughter. He got warily to his feet and made his way quietly down to the water’s edge.

There were children playing in the shadow water close to the bank, and Jem stopped, amazed, then impatiently, he shook his head. He had to be crazy! No one lived up here, and what would children be doing playing in the water in the middle of the night? Silently, he edged closer for a better look.

No-o, they weren’t children. Again, he shook his head, then edged closer still. He crouched behind a bush, and quietly moving some leaves out of his way, he again peered out. Nope, not kids. But they were small. The tallest among them was only about four feet tall. Were these the legendary Shimmering Ones? No, they couldn’t be! The Shimmering Ones were tall and golden. These were short and dark. Who were these happy little people? Was he dreaming?

I’ve had too much sun today, he muttered. He must have spoken out loud for with a warning shout, the little people stopped their play. Several of them looked in his direction, then with surprising swiftness, they sprang from rock to rock to disappear into the spray of the falls. With a shake of his head, Jem made his way back to his hammock. This time, sleep overtook him, and he slept through the rest of the night.

The early morning dawned beautifully, with the promise of a gorgeous day. The brightly lit sky of pink, orange, and red reflected in the spray of the falls and rapids, changing them into a misty rainbow of color. First, sparkling pink, orange, and then red. As the sun topped the trees with all its brightness, the colors faded, leaving only the fall’s natural shimmering silver.

Jem sat in his hammock, his eyes narrowed as he watched the changing beauty around him. Had last night been a dream, or did it really happen? Was it possible to reach the falls? If the little people were real, they had no difficulty in reaching the falls. They had flown up the rapids like they had wings on their feet.

He sighed. He had never felt this weird feeling before. What was wrong with him? Turning his head from the beckoning spray of the falls, he met Paco’s troubled gaze. He shrugged. It is nothing, old friend, he said carelessly. Just a weird dream I had last night.

Ahh, yes. Paco smiled his relief. This place is known for its strange dreams. The legends say that when the moon is full, such strange and wonderful things happen in a man’s dreams that he never wants to waken. Now, like I have said many times, Noji. This time, the smile reached his dark brown eyes. All this is just from the old men telling their stories—so come, let us get ready for the hunt, shall we?

Jem shook his head. Looking everywhere but at Paco. No, Paco. His smile was crooked, and a guilty blush stained his cheeks. You and the others go. I don’t feel much like hunting today, so I’ll stay with the camp and fish. Ricardo can go in my place.

A look of alarm sprang into Paco’s eyes, and reaching out, he grabbed Jem’s arm. Jem—Jem—Noji, he muttered softly so as not to draw the attention of the others. Tell me, this is just a touch of the chill and not the crazy talk of the Shimmering Ones. His grip hardened on his friend’s arm. Don’t get caught up in these legends, Jem. They are only stories for nighttime. Stories to be told around a campfire. Anyhow, Jem, even if they are true, you want nothing to do with them because they are of the spirits, and the spirits are evil.

Paco, you silly old fool! Jem laughed, shaking his head, but again, turning away so as not to meet the piercing gaze of his friend. Not for anything did he want his friend to know just how close to the truth he had been.

Of course, it’s not the legends, but— His grin was crooked, and he laughed outright. His gaze was finally