The Boy and the Talking Turtle

The Boy and the Talking Turtle - Author : Ebru Mina TOMURCUK

In a small village at the edge of a green forest, there lived a boy named Mika. He was nine years old, small and wiry, with quick movements and a head full of questions. His short black hair stuck up in tufts, and his large dark brown eyes sparkled with curiosity. He wore a faded yellow tunic, rolled-up brown trousers, and a woven grass bracelet on one wrist. Mika loved to explore, and every day he found something new. 1

One warm morning, Mika wandered near the pond at the edge of the village. He spotted something odd in the mud: a turtle, about the size of a dinner plate, with moss-green wrinkled skin and a domed shell patterned with dark rings. A tiny patch of moss grew on its back, and a thin braided cord of dried reeds was tied loosely around its shell. The turtle's amber eyes looked up at him, slow and wise. 2

Mika knelt down, careful not to frighten the turtle. 'Hello, little one,' he said softly. The turtle blinked its small beak-like mouth and spoke in a slow, rumbly voice, 'I am Old Shell. I remember many old stories, but one village tale has lost its ending. I need help to find it.' Mika's eyes grew wide. A talking turtle! And it needed his help! 3

Old Shell explained that long ago, the village told a story about a brave girl who saved a lost star. But the ending had faded from the turtle's memory over the years. 'I have carried this tale for a hundred years,' said Old Shell, 'but the last words slipped away. Without them, the story is not whole.' Mika said, 'We must find the ending! Do you know who might remember it?' 4

Old Shell slowly turned its head. 'The village elder, Grandmother Asha, knows many old tales. She keeps the wisdom of our people. We should go to her.' Mika nodded, his heart buzzing with excitement. 'I know where she lives! Let's go!' He gently picked up Old Shell, who felt cool and heavy in his hands, and started walking toward the village. 5

As they walked, Old Shell told Mika bits of the story. 'The brave girl climbed the tallest mountain to catch the fallen star. She carried it in her basket and promised to return it to the sky.' Mika listened closely, imagining the girl and the star. 'But then what?' he asked. Old Shell sighed. 'That is where the words end. The rest is lost.' Mika walked faster, determined to help. 6

They passed fields of tall grass and a stream that gurgled over smooth stones. Mika's bare feet hardly made a sound. Old Shell spoke of other legends it remembered: tales of clever animals, kind giants, and hidden springs. Mika loved every word. 'You remember so much!' he said. 'Why can't you remember the ending of this one?' Old Shell answered slowly, 'Some stories need more than one memory to keep them alive.' 7

Finally, they reached Grandmother Asha's house at the edge of the village. It was a small house with a crooked chimney and a garden full of herbs. Mika knocked on the wooden door. It opened, and there stood the elder: short and slightly stooped, with deep brown wrinkled skin, silver hair in a thick braid, and warm crinkled dark eyes. She wore a deep red shawl over a plain grey dress and leaned on a walking stick with a carved turtle head. 8

'Mika! What brings you here?' she asked, her gap-toothed smile wide. Then she saw Old Shell in his arms. 'And who is your friend?' Mika held up the turtle. 'This is Old Shell. It talks! It knows an old village tale, but the ending is lost. Can you help us?' Grandmother Asha's eyes twinkled. 'A talking turtle! Well, come in, both of you. I love a good story.' 9

Inside, the house smelled of herbs and wood smoke. Grandmother Asha settled into a chair by the fire and motioned for Mika to sit on a stool. Old Shell rested on the table, its amber eyes fixed on the elder. 'Tell me the story as far as you remember,' she said. Old Shell began, its slow voice filling the room. Mika listened, his dark brown eyes wide. 10

Old Shell told of the brave girl who climbed the mountain and caught the star. 'She carried it in her basket and promised to return it to the sky. But the path home was dark and steep, and the star's light grew dim. She did not know how to find her way.' Old Shell paused. 'That is where the words end. I have forgotten the rest.' The room was quiet. 11

Grandmother Asha smiled and leaned forward. 'I remember that tale,' she said. 'My grandmother told it to me when I was a girl. The brave girl did not give up. She asked the moon for help, and the moon sent a trail of silver light to guide her home. The star returned to the sky, and the village was never dark again.' Mika gasped. 'That's the missing ending!' 12

Old Shell's amber eyes glowed with joy. 'Yes! That is it exactly! The words feel right.' Grandmother Asha nodded. 'Elders carry the stories of our village. We keep them safe and pass them on. Without us, the tales would fade away.' Mika looked at her with new respect. He realized how precious her wisdom was. 'Thank you, Grandmother.