Give Them Wineby Mary Brunini McArdleBook I
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General Synopsis |
| Chapter 5 |
In the mid-22nd century, a mysterious apocalyptic event has destroyed the world as we know it. In the Mississippi delta country, survivors reorganize in isolated enclaves and live in primitive conditions with little knowledge of their own history.
Donas, a beautiful, bright, curious girl on the verge of womanhood, discovers that her community is hiding a terrible secret: drug-induced conformity. She flees, taking her younger brother Mak and sister Rani with her. They make their way south and find a new life with a new people. They find hope, love and maybe some trace of their own past that might point the way to the future.
The dark was not a fearful thing. Stars were sprinkled overhead, surrounding the night sun. The vegetation had a polished, sharply outlined look against the shadows; leaves and branches shone like ebony sculptures. The only sounds were the steady clump of the pony’s hooves and the rattle of the cart.
Donas wanted to laugh and cry at the same time but restrained herself, letting the glorious feeling well up inside. Mak and Rani were catapulted into utter silence for the first little while, entranced with the experience of the “night.” When they began to react to the lateness of the hour, they lapsed into squirming and giggling.
“Sing us a song,” Rani demanded. The two girls were seated up front, with Mak in the cart behind.
“I will! Let me!” Mak shouted.
Donas whirled around and slapped at him. “Be quiet,” she growled.
“But, Donas, we can do anything we want—”
“No! Mak and Rani, hear me! We haven’t gone very far. You must be quiet. It is very late, but I don’t know how long it is before morning. Katera may send outside men after us.”
“Oh,” Mak whispered. Rani’s eyes widened in fear.
Donas strained to see. She had been sure of her direction at first, but had no way of navigating in the dark. The sun had been her only guide. What if they were going in circles? What if daylight arrived and the cart was still in the vicinity of the motele?
Rani leaned against Donas. “I’m tired,” the six-year-old said, rubbing her eyes. “Can’t we stop?”
“Not yet. Get in back with your brother. You two can sleep in the cart for now.”
After shifting positions several times, the younger children succumbed to sleep. Donas forced herself to remain alert, still riding on the drama of her successful escape. Meanwhile she studied each landmark, trying to remember if she had seen any before.
‘We must keep traveling until daylight,’ she reasoned. ‘It’s the only way I can be sure of the direction.’
Eventually Donas’s arms began to ache. Healthy though she was, and accustomed to hard outdoor work, she had never driven a cart and pony before.
The black turned a deep cerulean before the advent of the sun. ‘What is that color?’ Donas thought nervously. She sagged with relief when the pale yellow sphere appeared on the horizon and she could see that the sun was over her left shoulder.
She brought the cart to a stop and stepped out to look around, caressing the pony’s neck. “You knew where to go, didn’t you?” she whispered.
Rani scrambled onto the front seat. “Where are we?”
“I don’t know.”
Mak’s head popped up in the back of the cart, but he remained where he was. The three escapees examined their surroundings with wonder.
The sunrise illuminated a thick forest to the east, while to the west the landscape rose steadily higher and higher, the soil rocky and broken. It was impossible to see past that vast and barren slope. Just to the left of the cart was a rutted path, filled with fragments of black stone and dirt. It stretched ahead as far as the eye could tell, seemingly pointing the way to the south. The “path” was too rough for the pony’s hooves, and he had evidently been trotting along next to it.
‘If that keeps going in the right direction, we can follow it,’ Donas thought.
“I’m hungry,” Mak announced, breaking the spell.
“Me too,” Rani echoed. “Can we eat now?”
“Yes, let’s stop and rest. But not here. We must go into the trees so that we can hide. Then perhaps I can sleep for a while.”
The trio walked the pony into the thickening undergrowth until they came to a small clearing. There was bread in the food bags, made of nutsedge, the tiny tubers having been gathered in quantity, then boiled and crushed. After a drink of rainwater, Donas instructed Mak and Rani to keep watch while she slept. The little ones were sufficiently cowed by the unfamiliar to put any thoughts of mischief aside.
By noon the heat awakened Donas, making her sweaty and restless. She sat up and looked at the others, beads of perspiration running down their faces.
“You did well, my blood,” she praised them. “You kept watch even though you were hot and uncomfortable.”
The motion of the cart helped cool the occupants until mid-afternoon. Then Mak and Rani insisted on stopping to drink several times and Rani began to whine. “It’s hot, Donas.”
“Can’t we go back under the trees?” Mak asked.
“It’s hot there, too, Mak. When the sun goes down we’ll feel better.”
The relief was short-lived; there was a new and unpleasant occurrence. Tiny creatures no larger than a seed with wings flew about at dusk and lit on uncovered skin — necks, arms, ankles.
“What are those awful things?” Rani wondered.
“They nibble,” Mak said. “Not so much when the cart is moving, but last time we stopped they were worse.” He rubbed at his elbow.
“Nibblers,” Rani giggled. “That’s what they are: ‘nibblers’.”
“It’s not funny, Rani,” Mak complained. “They sting. And my arms itch.”
At nightfall the children led the pony into the woods again. Donas felt far enough removed from the motele to risk spending the night. She tethered the pony to a sturdy sapling and the three ate a quick meal supplemented with wild plums before settling down to sleep.
The night sun blinked in and out of the forest canopy, making the shadows move. Unfamiliar sounds commenced — loud roars and howls. Having lived in the closed environment of the motele, Donas had never seen a large wild animal before. She was curious rather than afraid; the domesticated ponies and ratters and cattle she had known were docile and harmless.
But it was obvious the sounds made the pony skittish. He sniffled and snorted and shifted against his restraint. Rani needed no rationale; she simply got up and huddled against her elder sister, soon joined by Mak. They lay in each other’s arms the rest of the night, restless from itching and stinging skin. Donas gave up at dawn, and roused the others.
“Those nibblers bit us,” Rani said, scratching her ankle.
“I told you so,” retorted Mak.
“Stop scratching, Rani, you’ll bleed.” Donas hated to dip into their store of rainwater, but it was the only thing that would soothe the bites.
“We never got stung in the garden at the motele,” Mak said. “I wonder why?”
“It may have been that oil the trainers put on us when we worked outside during the hot. I wish I had brought some, but I don’t know where they kept it. We never worked outside so late in the day, either.” Donas would have liked to have had more supplies, but she had done the best she could. We probably couldn’t have carried anything more without getting caught anyway, she thought.
It was necessary also to water the pony; then to pack the cart for the day’s travel. Rani helped enthusiastically, happy to be moving around. Mak deliberately dawdled until reprimanded by his elder sister. “You’ve got to do your share, Mak,” Donas insisted.
“You’re not a leader and I don’t have to be a ‘perfect Rose’,” Mak retorted.
“I know I’m not a leader, and you should be glad of that. But you’d better listen to me.”
The sun was overhead, heat waves shimmering and making the black gravel on the path beside the cart glint like dark stars. Donas was growing increasingly concerned about the use of water. ‘We must find cooler shelter tonight, and look for a creek to wash in,’ she thought. ‘I wonder if we should explore that strange area over there? Perhaps there are overhangs where we could have shade.’
She stopped the cart and turned to Mak. “Do you think you could watch over our things by yourself?”
“Why?”
“I think I’ll take you to the edge of the woods; then Rani and I can explore that high ground — to find a better shelter. If you see anyone — anyone at all — or anything that scares you, take the pony into the woods. We’ll find you.”
It took an hour of climbing the western slope, but the girls were rewarded by just what Donas was hoping for; several overhangs and a couple of places where water sprang from the rocks. The pair began to make their way back down toward the spot where they had left their brother.
As they neared the cart and pony, Donas’s heart turned over. Mak wasn’t in sight. ‘Where is he?’ she thought, suddenly frightened. ‘I’d see his legs if he was behind the cart.’
“Where’s Mak?” Rani questioned, almost as if she had read Donas’s mind.
Donas broke into a run. “Mak! Mak!” she shouted, over and over. Silence — except for Rani’s panicky yell as she scrambled after — “Wait for me, Donas, wait!”
“He’s nowhere in sight.” Donas was frantic.
‘I can’t leave Rani here alone. We’ll have to go into the forest together and look for him,’ Donas thought, trying to calm herself.
“We’ll tie the pony to the closest tree,” she said, “and search for him.”
“We will find him, won’t we, Donas?” Rani asked anxiously.
Before Donas could respond, there was a commotion in the branches and a small boy emerged. His face was covered with something that looked red in the late afternoon sun. Donas assumed the worst; Rani voiced it. “Donas, he’s got blood!”
“Mak!” Donas felt faint.
“I’m the male, I’m the male,” Mak laughed, totally oblivious of the concern he had caused. He held out a basket of berries. “They’re good — I’ve already eaten some,” he boasted.
“Blackberry juice!” Donas exclaimed. She sat down suddenly on the ground, her hands over her face. Her shoulders heaved as she began to sob heavily.
Death was not unknown to the children of the motele; they worked constantly near animals outdoors. But human death was not usually discussed; Katera did not call attention to the motele’s mortalities. Now Donas was hit head on with the realization, previously an underlying one, that the three of them could die. And she was responsible for the lives of these two little ones. It seemed impossible — how could she go on? She had no survival skills, no guidance, nothing except what she could figure out for herself.
Mak watched helplessly as Donas sat and cried. He did not understand the fundamental reason.
Rani went over to her and pulled at her sleeve. “Donas, don’t cry. You’re fifteen. It’s the first week of the hot, isn’t it? Isn’t that your year time?”
“Why, I suppose so.” Donas lifted her tear-stained face and looked at Rani wonderingly. “Katera always announced everyone’s year time for us after supper. But you’re right. I must be fifteen now.”
“See? Mak will have to do what you say. You’re fifteen.”
Mak shrugged, unimpressed. But the ever-pragmatic Rani had shaken Donas from her despair.
‘It’s so silly,’ she thought. ‘Just because of what Rani said, I already feel stronger. Like I can do it. Like I can get us to the south.’
To be continued...
Copyright © 2011 by Mary Brunini McArdle
