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Monthly Exclusives July, 2010 |
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March, 2010 Daughters of the Stone—List of Characters Oshun—West African goddess of fertility, sexuality, represents the feminine
The Women
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~ DAHLMA'S JOURNEY ~ DAUGHTERS OF THE STONE ~ MONTHLY EXCLUSIVES ~ BOOK REVIEWS ~ SHARE YOUR STORY ~ NEWS AND EVENTS ~ JUST FOR EDUCATORS ~ MY BOOKSHELF ~ CONTACT DAHLMA |
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July, 2010 An Encounter in the Night He held his hand out to her. Nos vamonos, Fela? The unspoken question hung between them as they stood face to face. A moment of shock registered on her face as she thought he has learned my language of silence, this strange white man. She felt him reach for her hand and gently pull her away from the window. The last thing she remembered seeing before he pulled her out of the door was Tía Josefa's teary face, her mouth open in silent surprise. Tía's was the weeping of a mother's inability to protect her young. No sound came from Tía's mouth, but the wailing of the women ribboned out in the night air and followed the movements of master and the slave woman he pulled behind. Just before she was swallowed by the night, Fela turned to look at Tía for a moment. You don't understand. She slipped her hand out of Don Tomás' and stretched up to her full height. She adjusted her clothing and fixed her head wrap and then. She looked at the old woman for fraction of a second before calmly turning to Tomás. As Fela moved away from the cabin, walking side by side with Tomás. Tía's sadness caught in her throat at the realization that this was not what she had imagined it to be. They took strong, certain steps that led them away from everyone else. Neither looked back. Tía had never noticed before now that these two people were exactly the same height. * * * After leaving the cabin, Fela neither saw nor heard anything as they made their way through the fields. She continued turning her face to the moon even after she felt herself being eased down in the middle of the field. She felt the moist earth beneath her, heard the river as it flowed in the background and let it lull her away from here. In her half-daze her eyes focused on the white shoulder above her and she was taken immediately to another night in the distant past. It came back to her like a sudden blow. Snap! She could almost feel strike across the face, hear the crack inside her skull, smell his strong tobacco clawing at her like sticky fog. He had become a great, gasping locomotive, which rammed into her, over and over, until he left her feeling tarnished and used, like the tracks, which bear the burden and are left unfeelingly behind. She remembered struggling on the floor of the barn, tasting the bits of earth and hay that had somehow gotten into her mouth--fertilizer, manure droppings mixed with soil; the bitterness that had started in her mouth, had permeated her body and stayed with her for months. She thought she had gotten beyond it yet, but here it was again. And it stayed with her until she willfully shook it away, focused on the now, the person before her. This time, it was different. This man was no monster. He had not dragged, beaten or forced her, even though he easily could have. This one seemed to have some feeling, a heart. This one had set out to court her. And while she was not able to accept his feeling for her, she could see that perhaps he would care for the child, as he seemed to care for her. She was gambling her child's life on this. Her body allowed him to do what was necessary. She had gone beyond body. This was just one more thing she would endure. She sent her senses out, over his shoulder to the moon and she got comfortable there, concentrating on living there, on having a place to fly to where the whites could not follow. She would join Imo and the others. Oshun would be appeased and she, Fela, would be released. She thought of that other river, the promises, the prediction, Oshun's warning and her own pressing needs back then, by the waterfall. She had been so focused on herself, on her desires. Imo and their coming baby were her only thoughts then. But she had learned her lesson. The price for her tending to her needs was the loss of their village and their lives. For you Imo, for you and the ancestors and Oshun. Only for you. After tonight, my debt is paid in full. And then it was done. Tomás tried to speak to her of his feelings but there was no reaction to his words. He knew she could hear him and tried again to speak to her, let her know this was different for him. But she would not respond to him any more then, than she had responded to him during the act he had just completed. He tried again but there was no way to reach her. He felt as though he had been dismissed. She had wrapped herself in her aloneness and had never once let him come anywhere near her secret self. He realized then, that there was one more way of not having another person. He felt lonelier now than before. Could he have been so wrong about her? Finally he gave up trying. He sat up and rearranged his clothing. She lay on the ground exactly as she had during the entire encounter. He tried to get her to cover herself. But she never moved. So he clothed her as best he could and picked up the inert body, a heavy feeling weighing him down. He took her directly to Las Agujas and avoided Tía Josefa's eyes as he crossed the room and deposited Fela on her cot. "I don't know what's wrong with her. But see to it she has the best care. Do you understand?" As he walked back to his world he realized that he had gained nothing and lost much. As for Fela, it had taken all her will to get through this night. She was too weary to move. She acknowledged no one's presence. She just lay there letting the world happen around her. Tía's gentle fingers pulled the bits of grass out of Fela's hair. They unbuttoned her bodice, slipped her skirt off and scrapped the mud off her feet. "I'll be right back, m'ija." No sooner had Tía turn away from her, than Fela got up and went to the window where she could look up at the sky. She fastened her eyes on the moon again and refused to be led away. Tía was forced to wash her down and comb the leaves out of her hair as the younger woman stood there, gazing up. And still the younger woman couldn’t be coaxed back into bed. Finally, Tía pushed Fela’s cot just below the window where the girl could continue to look up at the moon while lying down. Tía hoped the girl would fall sleep and recover by morning. Fela finally allowed herself to put to bed, where she continued her lunar vigil. |
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Home | © 2009 Dahlma Llanos-Figueroa | Created by SmartAuthorSites.com ... Websites for Authors Orlando Gonzalez, painter, homepage image | Richard Stokes, photograper, book jacket | Dudley Vacianna, painter, book cover art |
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