Give Them Wineby Mary Brunini McArdleBook I
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General Synopsis |
| Chapter 15 |
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.
“Put it on, Donas,” Rani commanded, clapping her hands. “Lionel said to. Put it on!”
Donas sat on her bed, fingering Barrett’s surprise gift, a dress made in the style worn by the women of the City. Barrett had worked the fabric at her loom and Sewella had fashioned the dress. The cloth was so soft, so pretty! Donas jumped up, pulled off her pajamas, tossed them aside, and slipped the dress over her head, Rani chattering like an attendant squirrel.
Sewella had given Donas a piece of looking-glass for her room. She stared at herself, knowing the dress was becoming. It made her olive skin and chestnut hair glow. The underdress was white, gathered at the waist and flowing down in slim folds. Pale magenta lengths were fixed at the shoulders and fell to the floor on the sides, leaving Donas’s arms bare. The hems of the side pieces were trimmed with white open work called “crochet.”
‘It’s a perfect dress for the hot,’ Donas thought. She started to correct the word “hot” and substitute “summer,” but shrugged the impulse away. She hadn’t been in the south long enough to stop using her old language in her mind.
Sometimes she felt like two people, an inside one who talked in her head, and an outside one who interacted with the others around her. Mak and Rani seemed to have no problem, perhaps because they were so young and accepting.
“Mak doesn’t think anyway; he just does,” Donas murmured. “He’s a lot like Lionel.”
“What did you say?” Rani asked.
“Oh, nothing.” Donas smiled at her little sister. ‘And Rani just is, which is enough.’
“Goodness, Rani, it’s amazing how much your hair has grown. And I believe you’re taller! You look very pretty in your new clothes. That soft gold color makes your eyes sparkle.”
“Mak has new clothes, too, Donas. Long trousers, like Lionel’s.”
“Mak will need trousers for riding.”
‘And he wants to be exactly like Lionel,’ Donas continued to reflect, turning to look at the looking-glass again. ‘Sometimes I don’t know what is real. Or which part of me to trust. Myself alone, or myself and Lionel.
‘I do love him, but there are things I still don’t understand about his people. Like Alfreda’s work. Keeping that old, tarnished cup filled with wine in her house until she passes it on to another woman. Lionel says no one understands. He says it has something to do with a promise made long ago that is somehow connected to his father’s story. Alfreda says it will be years before her people understand her work.
‘Sewella shrugs it off. “It’s harmless,” is her only comment. She doesn’t say that in front of Alfreda, who takes offense and thinks Sewella is belittling her work. And Alfreda’s husband Heath is a Night Guard at that mysterious building.’
Donas remembered the last time Alfreda had accompanied her, Rani, and Sewella to the market. The sky was overcast, promising afternoon thunderstorms and making the Storytellers’ Hall appear even more ominous. Donas suppressed a shiver as she passed.
The three young women and Rani lingered, long after the market closed, Sewella and Alfreda talking to other women, mostly about Alfreda’s expected child. On the return home, the sky darkened and Alfreda’s husband came on duty. The building seemed more threatening than ever.
‘Alfreda’s husband didn’t change his expression even though I know he saw her, Donas recalled.’
‘That’s enough!’ Donas shook her head, weary from her thoughts. ‘Heath’s work has nothing to do with me, nothing at all.’
Suddenly Donas felt something was missing. “Rani, we have a few minutes. I want you to plait my hair.”
“But, Donas, it’s so curly.”
“I know, but it’s gotten longer. It’s easy for me to do yours, but I don’t think I can do my own. Please, Rani.”
Rani gave in, and with a little effort managed to make two plaits.
“Now I must pin it up. What can I use?”
“Sewella gave me some of her old combs to play with.”
“Then let me have them.”
Donas scrutinized her image carefully. The plaits were secure on top of her head, but wisps of curls escaped everywhere. She sighed. “It doesn’t look smooth, like the others. I wanted to please Barrett.”
“Donas, Lionel’s here.”
“Now it’s too late to change my hair. I hope he won’t be angry.”
Lionel stood looking intensely at Donas for a moment.
She blushed. “Is it awful? My hair?”
“How could it be awful, Donas? Everything about you is beautiful. Are you nervous?”
“A little.”
“You needn’t be. Even though it’s an important occasion. You know you’re well liked by my family.”
He took her hand to lead her to the sitting room where Barrett and Sebastian awaited them, Rani following behind. Mak was already there, proudly wearing his new tan trousers. Sewella and Alfreda were both in deep green-gold, while Barrett wore white. Donas noticed how much larger and heavier Alfreda had become. She stood with a hand behind the small of her back, as if to support her extra weight.
“Mother, Father, I have brought you the one I wish to be my betrothed, and I ask for your consent,” Lionel said formally.
“We have already welcomed you and your kin to our home,” Barrett said to Donas. “We feel you will be a good and productive woman. And the darker skin will enrich our family’s blood. There is one problem, however.”
Lionel looked dismayed, but he pressed Donas’s hand and waited.
“It’s the matter of your name,” Barrett continued. “There is no story for it. Would you be unhappy if a new name was chosen for you?”
Lionel scowled. “I would be very unhappy. She is ‘Donas.’ How can I think of her by any other name?”
“I don’t mind, Lionel,” Donas said.
“Well I mind. Mother, Father. I understand the importance of the stories behind our names. This is how it has always been with our people. But have you ever thought there might come a time when a new story should be told? Is there any law that says all names must come from old stories? Once, they too must have been new.”
“A new story!” Barrett exclaimed. “It has never been done as far back as I can remember!”
“But it could be done. The story of a brave young girl who rescued her younger brother and sister from a place of evil and brought them to safety by way of a long and dangerous journey!”
Barrett looked at her husband with wonder. “An interesting idea. I’m surprised our practical Lionel thought of it himself. He is not known to philosophize.”
Donas suppressed a smile.
Sebastian rubbed his chin. “I suppose I could talk to the Storytellers. Barrett?”
“Perhaps you should talk to Tolk,” Barrett said. “He’s one of the eldest. He would probably want to scribe it himself.”
‘Scribe,’ Donas thought. ‘I’ve heard that word before. I wonder what it means.’ Lionel’s voice interrupted her rumination.
“Then, may we have your approval?” he asked, addressing his mother and father.
“I see no reason not to go forward.” Barrett rose, as did Sebastian. Lionel took Donas’s hand in his, and the pair knelt before his parents, who each placed a right hand on the corresponding shoulders of the young man and woman. “You are declared betrothed until Donas approaches the age of sixteen, at which time we shall begin the marriage arrangements.”
When Barrett finished speaking, she touched Donas and Lionel’s foreheads. He closed his fingers around hers.
“Thank you, Father, Mother.” Lionel turned to Donas, whose eyes were shining with unshed tears.
“I promise, Donas, to honor you for the duration of our betrothal, and to love and to care for you forever afterward.”
“And I, likewise.”
To be continued...
Copyright © 2011 by Mary Brunini McArdle
