Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 2 - 2 | Page 66

The Missing Stone
Singapore International School, Lui, Jun Yang - 10
Before the dreams descended upon him, Professor Woods was breezing through his week, who
being the busy propounded historian, famous archaeologist and popular university teacher he was, wasn't
really saying that much. He had just wrapped up a lecture on the treasure voyages of Zheng He, and was
looking forward to a well-earned night's rest. The cloudless night sky was patched with countless stars,
glimmering as if luminous lights had just been randomly sprayed. Woods crawled into bed, and lay still
under the warm heavy blankets, soon to drift off to sleep, when suddenly, a voice spoke in his mind,
“Take me home”. It was barely audible, but it was clear as anything in the silence. “Return me”,
it rasped.
“Where?” Woods demanded.
“To the place where I belong, where the vile Chinese Hasat removed me from.” Then, all fell
silent again.
Woods sat bolt upright, his spine tingling with a feeling of dread. He surveyed the area, examining
everything with care. The old bookcase stood alone in a corner, he looked to the other corner, and his gaze
rested on an antique collection shelf. Squinting, he focused his vision onto the variety of strange looking
rocks and stones, illuminated in the dim light of the moon. Wait, illuminated? He stared at the glowing
stone that sat on the topmost shelf in awe, wondering if he was dreaming or hallucinating. The rock was a
rough stone, jutting out at odd areas, which seemed to be glowing faint gold. He studied it with great
precaution, then
“take me home”, “to the place where I belong!” Woods was sure now, in three big strides, he had
marched over and gingerly retrieved the stone. He turned it over and over, now he remembered, this was a
stone that he had recovered from a Chinese shipwreck.
“Is that where your home is?” he wondered aloud, relieved there was no one to see him talking to
a stone. No reply. He inhaled deeply and sighed “Well, it's worth a shot”.
A few hours later, they were seated in a plane, on a hastily booked flight to Indonesia, where they
would switch to boat and travel back to the shipwreck. The suitcase felt heavier than usual in its position on
Woods’ lap, as if the five layer bubble wrapped stone was sharing his excitement and anxiety.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” questioned one of his colleagues, Prof. Birch, the hundredth
time. “Are you certain it wasn't just a dream?”
“No,” Woods patted his hastily packed suitcase and replied firmly, “I haven't quite gone senile
yet.” “Ok,” Birch replied half-heartedly, “whatever you say.”
“You chose to come. Why would you question it now?” demanded Woods. Birch decided to shut
up.
The boat trip wasn’t too pleasant, after hours of the ship tossed around like a rag doll on the
choppy waves, the sea slamming repeatedly into the hull, and the Captain singing TV theme songs. A dive
with a talking stone into an abandoned Chinese shipwreck didn't seem like a bad idea. After changing into
diving suits, the two professors dived into the sea. The water swirled and swallowed them whole, as they
went under, and glided towards the giant hunk of rotting wood. Suddenly, Woods jerked sideways, the
pouch he was keeping the stone in started shaking violently like something trapped in there wanted to get
free. Then, it glowed gold, and the stone burst out, burning a hole through the pouch, and speeding
towards the opposite of the shipwreck. Woods lunged and felt his hands wrap around the rough surface of
the rock, felt the currents sweeping at him, then, the stone erupted out of the sea, dragging Woods with it,
hanging on for dear life. The stone rocketed up and down, soaring over the startled crew who yelled and
ran, but it just shot higher. It bounced around, several times almost throwing the professor off, rocketed
skywards, and then, suddenly went into a nosedive. The wind sliced at Woods’ face like knives, as the stone
hurtled towards earth as if drawn by a magnet. Woods closed his eyes and braced for impact, which never
came. Just before plummeting to the ground and making a mess, the stone jerked sideways, and tossed
Woods off onto the grassy fields. He looked up and realized that the stone had tossed him onto a cliff. While
observing about him,
“Hello,” came a raspy voice.
Professor Woods had been in many interesting situations, but none was as strange as registering that
the stone’s home was an abandoned island housing an old man.
“Who are you?” Woods managed.