One hot afternoon, Bibi was feeling extra curious. The sun blazed overhead, and the air smelled of ripe mangoes and dusty roads. While other kids napped after lunch, Bibi tiptoed out of the house, determined to explore something mysterious—something exciting. Her target? The old, abandoned house near the rice fields.
The house had been empty for years. Overgrown with vines and shaded by tall banana trees, it looked more like a secret jungle than a home. No one dared to go there. The adults whispered about snakes, ghosts, and the strange noises that echoed at night. But for Bibi, that only made it more interesting.
She walked carefully along the fence, slid through a hole in the rusted wire, and stepped into the wild garden of the abandoned house. Birds scattered, and a lizard darted across her foot, but Bibi just smiled. Her heart thumped with adventure.
Behind the house, hidden among weeds and wildflowers, Bibi spotted something unusual—a small fish pond. Its water was murky and green, but she could see something floating on the surface.
“Fish?” she whispered, kneeling down.
No fish. But what she did see made her gasp—fruits! Big, round, colorful fruits bobbing gently in the water. Some looked like mangosteens, others like small guavas or water apples. She rubbed her eyes. “Am I dreaming?”
One of the fruits bumped against a rock and cracked open slightly, releasing a sweet scent into the air. Bibi leaned closer and sniffed. It was fresh and fragrant—not spoiled or rotten. How could this be? Why were fruits floating in an old fish pond?
Curiosity took over. Bibi rolled up her sleeves, grabbed a long stick, and tried fishing out one of the fruits. It took a few tries, but finally, she hooked a large, reddish one that resembled a star apple. She sat on the grass and inspected it.
It looked perfectly ripe. She gently peeled the skin. Inside, it shimmered slightly, as if touched by morning dew. She took a tiny bite—and her eyes widened. It was sweet, juicy, and unlike anything she’d tasted before. Not exactly like a star apple. Not like any fruit she’d had from the market. This was something different.
She looked back at the pond. There were more—dozens, maybe. Floating peacefully like they had been waiting for her.
“What kind of magic place is this?” she murmured.
Just then, she heard a sound behind her—rustling leaves. Bibi froze. Had someone followed her?
“Hello?” she called out.
Out came a chicken. It clucked loudly and strutted away. Bibi sighed in relief, though her heart was still racing.
She returned to the pond. “I have to bring one home,” she decided. She took three fruits, wrapped them in a leaf, and placed them carefully in her little backpack. Then she stood up and looked around one more time. The garden was beautiful, overgrown but alive. A papaya tree leaned over the wall, and a bush of lemongrass grew wild at the back corner.
Maybe the pond wasn’t abandoned after all. Maybe nature had taken over and turned it into something magical.
Bibi hurried home before sunset, eager to show someone what she’d found. When she arrived, she rushed to her grandmother, who was sitting under the shade peeling cassava.
“Grandma! Look what I found!”
She unwrapped the fruits. Her grandmother’s eyes widened. She picked one up and sniffedit.
“Where did you get this?” she asked, her voice cautious.
“In the fish pond at the old house,” Bibi said excitedly. “They were just floating there!”
Her grandmother’s face turned serious. She looked at the fruit again. Then, gently, she placed it down.
“This fruit…” she began slowly, “is called Buah Ikan in our old language. ‘Fish Fruit.’ It’s very rare. Almost forgotten. I haven’t seen one since I was your age.”
Bibi’s eyes lit up. “So it’s real? Not a dream?”
Her grandmother nodded. “The trees used to grow near water. Their fruits would fall into ponds and float until ripe. They were special. Sweet, yes—but also believed to be healing. But the trees disappeared long ago. No one grows them anymore.”
“Why?”
Her grandmother paused. “Because the land changed. People dug up the old gardens. The ponds dried. And the fruit was forgotten. Maybe… that abandoned house still has one of those trees.”
Bibi was amazed. She’d stumbled upon something truly special.
Over the next few days, Bibi returned to the abandoned house, this time with her grandmother. Together, they found the tree that grew near the pond, half-covered in vines but still bearing fruits. Her grandmother showed her how to care for it, how to pick the fruits gently, and how to grow new ones from the seeds.
They took some seedlings home and planted them near their own fish pond.
News spread in the village. People came to see the “fruit pond” and taste the mysterious Buah Ikan. Some remembered the flavor from childhood. Others had never heard of it but loved the taste. It became a story everyone told—the little girl who rediscovered the forgotten fruit of the old fish pond.
One man even offered to help grow more trees. Soon, the community came together to clean the garden around the abandoned house. They didn’t tear it down. Instead, they turned it into a public green space—part garden, part playground, part fruit sanctuary.
Bibi felt proud. Her curiosity had brought something valuable back to life.
One evening, as the sun dipped low and turned the sky orange and gold, Bibi sat by the pond, holding another ripe Buah Ikan. She smiled, knowing the world still had secrets to discover—and sometimes, you only had to dare to look.
