Chapter 6

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Rose played for Ama again, drums this time. She played the Aburukuwa with its curved sticks. It sounded like a bird. Hence, she’d been told by someone who spoke one of the languages of Ghana, its name. She started with the patterns she associated with her Irish heritage. Then she switched to those which had been taught to her as “Arab” motifs. She didn’t know enough about most of the Middle East to know if these were truly rhythms used in Arabic cultures, but she did know they were beautiful.

Ama seemed distracted, however, and after Rose switched back to Irish beats interspersed with things from her favorite Celtic-not-quite-Irish band, she asked, “What’s wrong?” She kept playing, hoping to convince Ama she wasn’t as hurt as she felt. She had a feeling the other’s empathic ability could pick up on exactly how the inattention was bothering her.