Give Them Wineby Mary Brunini McArdleBook I
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General Synopsis |
| Chapter 8 |
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.
Soft morning light was playing on the violet coverlets when Donas awoke. Rani stirred as her sister sat up. “I’m hungry, Donas.”
Mak jumped to the floor. “Lionel said Sewella will call us for breakfast. I wonder if we’ll have a rising song.”
“We’ll eat right here,” Donas said. “We have our water jugs now, and our own food.”
“Donas—”
“Be quiet, Mak.” Donas was anxious about how long she would be able to maintain control over their meals. All she had left was enough nutsedge bread for a week, and nothing fresh to go with it.
“Lionel gave me some figs at the stable last night,” Mak stated.
“Figs?” Rani said. “What are figs?”
“They taste good — sweet like plums, but softer. You eat the insides.”
“Mak!” Donas exclaimed. “You shouldn’t have!”
“But, Donas, they weren’t apples.”
“Mak, these people could use figs like our people used apples. Don’t you realize how dangerous this could have been?”
“Well, it wasn’t.”
The knock at their door preceded Sewella, there to make her breakfast call.
“Our thanks; we’ve already eaten,” Donas said.
Mak made a face.
“Come and sit with us at least. You might enjoy our hot tea.”
There was no polite way to refuse the invitation. Donas shot a warning look at her brother and sister, Donas’s eyes saying what her lips couldn’t — Do not drink the tea!
Everyone was at breakfast except Alfreda. “She has a husband and her own home,” Lionel explained. “She had supper with us last night because her husband’s work requires late hours, and she was lonely.”
“She won’t be lonely long,” Barrett said. “Her child will be born in a few months.”
Lionel’s mother and sister had arranged their hair much the same as the previous evening, but Sewella had two pieces wrapped around her head instead of the long single one trailing down her back.
“Your hair’s pretty,” Rani said shyly. “How do you make it like that?”
“It’s called ‘plaiting’,” Sewella said. “I’ll show you how it’s done if you like.”
All three visitors declined the hot tea; Barrett and the others pretended not to notice.
“We have breakfast and supper at table together,” she said. “But we prepare our own midday meals whenever we wish, alone or with others. I’ll show you the kitchen and pantry where we keep the food, and you may help yourself to whatever you fancy. Perhaps you can spend the morning with Sewella; she can show you the rest of the house and the market, and help you experiment with your hair.”
Donas was trying to take everything in. ‘If they are going to let us prepare our own midday meals and give us free run of the kitchen, perhaps there is nothing to fear from their food,’ she reasoned. ‘I’ll decide after I see this kitchen.’
Lionel and Sebastian left together after breakfast, beckoning to Mak who was delighted to follow. “He’ll be happier with the men,” Barrett said. “Sewella will stay with you two girls and introduce you to some places of interest.”
“I thought you might come to my room and let me show you how to plait,” Sewella offered.
“Someone’s at the front door, Sewella,” Barrett said. “I’ll see who it is.”
After a moment, Barrett returned with a young girl about Donas’s age. “This is Nakoma,” Barrett said. “She lives next door and has been a friend to my children as long as we can remember.”
Nakoma smiled, a tiny dimple appearing at the corner of her mouth. She was not as tall as Lionel’s sisters, but was heavy-breasted and well-shaped, with a small waistline and slim, graceful hands. Her bronze hair rippled around her shoulders like a fine coverlet, and her eyes were the color of new grass.
“We have guests, three who have come to us in need,” Barrett explained. “This is Donas, and her sister Rani. Their brother Mak has gone with Lionel to the stables.”
“All three are staying with us,” Sewella added.
Nakoma looked at Donas. For a moment the green eyes harbored a flicker of something inscrutable, but they warmed as the newcomer smiled again.
“We’re going to show our guests some things. Would you like to stay?” Sewella offered.
“Not now, thank you, Sewella. Mother needs my help in the market today.”
“Then perhaps we’ll see you later.”
“Yes, I hope so. I’d like to know Donas better.”
Donas made some progress as to the layout of the family’s home that morning. She noted the dining room was in the center, with the bedrooms radiating off to both sides, while the entrance jutted out in front of the building, a sitting room behind. Sewella’s room was similar to the one Donas and her brother and sister had used for the night, except there was only one bed.
“Now, Rani, let me see what I can do.” Sewella ran her hands through the little girl’s straight hair. “I think your hair’s a bit short for one plait; we’ll try two. Is that all right?” Rani nodded, not understanding, but happy to be Sewella’s object of experimentation.
“Watch, Donas; you’ll learn this quickly.” Sewella began to demonstrate, while Donas, in spite of her cautious nature, looked on with interest. In a few moments, Rani had two plaits, which Sewella secured with pieces of fabric.
“That doesn’t look difficult at all,” Donas commented. “I imagine it feels cool, especially during the hot.”
“It feels good,” Rani agreed. Sewella looked puzzled. “The ‘hot’? Do you mean the summer?”
“I don’t know that word. The hot is the season when the white puffy things float in the blue and the weather is very warm.”
“I think it means the same, what we call ‘summer.’ What do you call the other seasons?”
“The ‘mild’ and the ‘cool.’ Really, there are two milds, one after the hot and one before.”
Sewella nodded. “We call the first one ‘spring’ and the second ‘autumn’. The cool is the ‘winter’. But they really are the same things, just different words.”
“The plaiting — I think I could do it now. Rani will probably like it.”
“I don’t think you should plait your hair, though, Donas,” Sewella said thoughtfully. “It’s so pretty and curly.”
Donas observed how much shorter Rani’s hair looked in the plaits. “I don’t think the females where we come from have hair as long as yours. We cut it as soon as it reached our shoulders.”
“What are we going to do now?” Rani asked. “Can we see the City?”
“I thought perhaps I’d take you to the center, where the market is,” Sewella said. “Then we’ll come back here and I’ll show you the rest of our home. Would you like that?”
Rani nodded eagerly. ‘The more I see, the better I can judge what is safe,’ Donas thought. ‘That’s the most important thing — that Mak and Rani and I are safe.’
To be continued...
Copyright © 2011 by Mary Brunini McArdle
