"Until lions tell their tale, the story of the hunt will always glorify the hunter." ~ African Proverb

Romeo and I were best, best friends. We grew up together as far back as I can remember. We were barn babies, wrapped in quilts and laid in an empty wooden trailer at sunrise, where we would sleep until the sun warmed our faces and the dew began to dry. We rose to the sounds of tractors rolling in from the fields and the barn ladies talking and laughing. We woke to the smell of dust and the cigarettes the barn men smoked. We opened our eyes to old pine limbs above us, blowing slowly on a lazy breeze.

I went to the barn every morning with Papa, my grandfather, and Romeo, along with his mama, Rowena. It was my Papa's tobacco farm, and he was stuck with me.

My Granny worked at the sewing factory in town and my sister, Suzanne, went to Great-Granny's house. There, she sat in front of a big fan and watched television with Great-Granny and ate egg salad sandwiches. I didn't like staying with her, and I am pretty sure Great-Granny didn't like me staying there, either, so Papa was stuck with me.

Romeo's mama worked at the tobacco barns every summer, and he didn't have anywhere to go either, so here we stayed. We liked it. We had very few rules. We knew not to climb on the big piles of the long, wooden sticks that the ladies tied the tobacco leaves to, for fear of black widow spiders or copperhead snakes hiding in them. We knew to stay out of the way of the workers or we'd get a scolding, or worse. Our biggest rule was not to get run over by a tractor or backed over by the trailers that hauled the big, green, sticky leaves from the field to the barns.

Upon waking, we would find our wrinkled brown bags that held our breakfast (usually an apple, a jar of milk, a boiled egg, and a biscuit). We would eat and plan our day.

Our summers were long and hot. Many days, we found ourselves under a shady tree finding shapes in the clouds or telling stories. Romeo was the best at telling tales. He recalled the stories his mother told him of Jonah and the whale, of David and Goliath. Stories of the Bible that I knew nothing of. My favorite stories were the ones told to him by his Grandmother Von, stories of kings and queens. Of African kings and queens.

On one particular day, we lay on our backs in the shade. We felt cool and sleepy in the late afternoon.

"Tell me the stories Granny Von tells you, Romeo," I said.

With a big grin and sleepy eyes, he started, "There was once a strong and powerful young boy who went to battle with his father. His name was Hannibal. He was only eight years old, but fought for his people. He was made king when he was young and had a great army to defend his land. He used elephants to trample his enemies. He was a brave and strong and a smart warrior."

"How big are elephants?" I asked.

"Much bigger than the tractor," he said.

I thought about this, and later we woke to the sounds of the workers coming in from the fields, their long day over.

"Okay, we will start again early in the morning before the heat sets in. It's been a good day," Papa said.

The workers, covered in the black tar of the green leaves, sat and fanned themselves with their hands, sweat pouring. They bade each other well until morning. Then Papa helped me gather my things and put me in his truck.

"Bye, Romeo," I waved.

"Bye, Caroline," he said.

Papa and I went home, where my Granny would immediately place me in the bathtub. The day's dust and dirt was scrubbed off me, and my hair washed.

It took us no time at all to color every single picture in Romeo's new coloring book. We had given all the workers many pictures as gifts. They promised to take them home and hang them up, and told us they would think of us every time they looked at our lovely artwork. That made us both grin with pride.

"Tomorrow, don't forget to bring something we can dig with," Romeo told me.

"I won't forget," I said.

Our plans were made. The best castle ever would be built. We were inspired by Granny Von's stories of a great king. A king who was the richest man in all the world. He built great castles decorated with silver and gold. His name was Mansa Musa.

* * *

The next morning, Romeo ran to me. "Did you bring it?"

"Yes!" I reached into my bag and brought out Granny's garden spade and my sand bucket. "What did you bring?" I asked.

Romeo smiled and reached into his bag. He brought out shiny gold and silver tinsel meant for a Christmas tree.

"Beautiful," I said.

We had already staked out the site for our palace. It was a sandy area behind a pine thicket, still within view of his mama. We dug and dug.

We made tall towers with long sticks stuck in the top. I imagined ribboned flags atop, fluttering in the wind. We made small, mounded houses around the castle which housed the people of the great kingdom.

Romeo took the tinsel from his bag and draped it all around the great palace. The tinsel sparkled in the sun. It was magical. Miss Rowena stopped her work to come look upon our creation.

"What have you kids done?" she asked, smiling.

"It is the palace of King Mansa Musa!" Romeo beamed.

Rowena looked on our creation. Her hands went to her mouth. She smiled to her son.

"It is a fine palace," she said.

The hot summer wore on. We never failed to come up with a game or project to keep us busy. Some days, it was enough just to sit under a shady tree and play I Spy or draw grand murals in the sand with sticks. Other times, we sat and pondered about other places and what they must be like, such as the cold Alaska, or the jungles of Africa. We wondered about living with tigers and lions and elephants. We mused about the stars and the moon, and thunder and lightning and clouds.

Our young minds stayed busy, but we rarely thought about our here and now. We rarely thought about what would become of us and our futures. Those thoughts never crossed our minds. We were happy. We were innocent.

"I brought us a surprise today!" I said, running with my bag to Romeo.

"Let's see!" he said.

I pulled out a large pad of paper, crayons, and pencils.

"We can draw whatever we want," I told him.

"I already know what I'm going to draw," he said.

We found our spot under the shady tree and set out the supplies. Romeo began drawing. When he was done, he showed me. It was a lady with long red robes and a yellow crown. Her hair was black and her skin was brown.

"She's beautiful, Romeo," I told him.

"This is Queen Amina. She was called Amina, meaning woman as capable as man. She was a great leader of her country... She led an army of twenty thousand soldiers. She built giant, walled cities and ruled for many, many years."

"She was brave," I say. "I love your stories."