The Yellow Hibiscus Chapter 7 Illumination Book Chapters
Frightened at this exploding diamond, I released it from my grasp as the petals kind of waved at me!
I sat in my armchair and gingerly opened the box inside my apartment. Inside was a large yellow kite diamond. It was about eight or nine inches long — slant in position at the top and bottom edges of the box it lays in. My guess was to prevent any movement and fit it in place. Curious, I lifted it, inspected it, ‘yellow diamond’ Could this be real? I mused, turning it this way and that. ‘Yellow diamond!’ Do diamonds even come in yellow? As I focused a little closer, the color began to fade, and a large yellow flower appeared inside.
In surprise, I leaped to my feet, dropping the diamond on the floor. My heart was pounding as I gazed at it, transfixed.
Eventually, I picked it up from the floor and peered closer once more. Frightened at this exploding diamond, I released it from my grasp as the petals kind of waved at me.
“O-o-oh mm-my G-G-God!” I stuttered, rushing to the bedroom door. “Oh my God!” I kept repeating as I stood inches from my door, just watching it. The petals grew brighter and didn’t change back as I scrutinized the diamond. How the flower got inside, I couldn’t tell, even though I examined it from every side. It didn’t have any marks anywhere indicating an entrance or exit. I studied this puzzle, cornered in a maze of hows and whys. My thoughts were racing.
‘Come on,’ I admonished myself. ‘What can this do to you,’ I convince myself loudly, with bolstered confidence. “It’s your imagination and the stress of your grief. Yeah,” I convinced myself to stop being dramatic. It wasn’t a creature that could bite my head off. Was it? I grabbed a dishcloth from the kitchen and wrapped it around my hand, then carefully picked up the diamond off the floor without actually touching it, wondering what it meant. Who did this and why? My brain demanded an answer. I didn’t have one.
It wouldn’t have been so creepy, except the flower appeared real and alive. I carefully placed it on the coffee table beside the vase. I picked up the box it arrived in again and turned it every way. I found a small brown envelope pasted to the bottom. I detached it. It unsealed. A birth certificate, a single piece of paper with E. Greenburg, and a phone number beside the name fluttered out.
My heartbeat rose and then seemed to stop as I read the name on the birth certificate: Apikaila Akela Greenburg, the same as mine, except for my surname. It listed my correct birth date. The birth mother’s name was Tara Futtimoo, and the father’s name was Francis Greenburg!
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