Fire and Water; Nightmares.
It was a familiar dream, too familiar, at first. She was even in bed, but she was in bed in Africa, surrounded by mosquito netting instead of fake, painted jungle bloom. She was tugged from her bed, though, the moment she realized that she was in it, by something or someone, the ruckus, banging and shouting outside, her sisters leaping up screaming and were gone. Adah could not make a sound for the ants in her throat. She dragged herself out to the moonlight and found a nightmare vision of dark red, boiling ground. Nothing stood still, no man or beast, not even the grass that writhed beneath the shadow, dark and ravenous. Not even the startled grass.
Only her mother stood still. There she was, planted before Adah in the path, rising on thin legs out of the rootless devouring earth. In her arms, crosswise like a load of kindling, Ruth May.
She spoke out loud, call out, the only time: help me.
"Your father..." she said. "I think he must have gone ahead with Rachel. I wish he'd waited, honey, he'd carry you, but Rachel was...I don't know how she'll get through this. Leah will, Leah will take care of herself."
She spoke again: ...Please.
She studied Adah for a moment, weighing her life. Then nodded, shifted the load in her arms, and turned away.
Nod, nab, abandon.
"Come on!" she commended over her shoulder. Adah tried to stay close behind her, but even under the weight of Ruth May, she was sinuous and quick in the crowd. Her heels were nipped from behind by other feet. Stepped on, though she felt it vaguely, already numb from the burning ants. She knew when it was that she went down; she knew she was dreaming about going down, feeling it and watching it, removed and there all at once. Someone's bare foot was on her calf and then her back, and she was being trampled. A crush of feet on her chest. She rolled over again and again, covering her head in her arms. She found her way to her elbows and raised herself up, grabbing with her strong left hand at legs that dragged me forward. Ants on her earlobes, deafening. On her tongue, silencing. Her eyelids, blinding. She tried to cry out--such a strange noise, as if it came up from her hair and fingernails, again and again, struggling to keep up. Once Adah looked for her mother again and saw her, far ahead. She followed; she tried, at least, bend on her own rhythm. Curved into the permanent song of her body: left....behind.
It was a familiar dream, and that's why, at first, Adah's panic was only that which she felt so viscerally. She'd had this dream before, knew how it ended. Someone would be by soon, whether it was actually Anatole who'd swept her up when this dream was reality, or the Eel, in spirit of the only person she'd ever felt she could trust. A familiar dream. They'd come...they'd come...they'd...
Fire continued to crawl up her skin, through her skin; she started to feel skin peeling off of bone, unable to cling for lack of surface area to cling with. Soon there'd be no skin, only muscle, only bone and sinew and then nothing, nothing. The pain was overwhelming. Adah cried out, only to discover her tongue had been taken by their ravenous hunger, taunting her with the fact that she never used it while she could, and now that she wanted to, it was gone. She whimpered only instead. Feet crashing on her skull, her fingers nothing but toiling, burning insects as she dug them into the ground. The river. She had to get to the river. The water was safe, the water...
...She found herself suddenly in the water. For a brief moment, the pain lifted, the ants gone, and, for a moment, she was suspended perfectly in a moment absolutely devoid of pain or suffering.
That moment lasted long enough for her to blink, and then the second reality sunk in. She couldn't swim; her limbs didn't have the capacity for it and even though she did not need balance here, her flailing and screaming was useless and only made her predicament worse. Water rushed in where fire once was; she couldn't breath, she couldn't control her limps, she was sinking, sinking, unbreathing, gasping only pain and never breath, and tears started in her eyes. She'd pass out if she didn't...
Suddenly, she was back in bed, in Africa, surrounded by mosquito netting instead of fake, painted jungle bloom. She was tugged from her bed, though, the moment she realized that she was in it, by something or someone, the ruckus, banging and shouting outside, her sisters leaping up screaming and were gone. Adah could not make a sound for the ants in her throat....
Only her mother stood still. There she was, planted before Adah in the path, rising on thin legs out of the rootless devouring earth. In her arms, crosswise like a load of kindling, Ruth May.
She spoke out loud, call out, the only time: help me.
"Your father..." she said. "I think he must have gone ahead with Rachel. I wish he'd waited, honey, he'd carry you, but Rachel was...I don't know how she'll get through this. Leah will, Leah will take care of herself."
She spoke again: ...Please.
She studied Adah for a moment, weighing her life. Then nodded, shifted the load in her arms, and turned away.
Nod, nab, abandon.
"Come on!" she commended over her shoulder. Adah tried to stay close behind her, but even under the weight of Ruth May, she was sinuous and quick in the crowd. Her heels were nipped from behind by other feet. Stepped on, though she felt it vaguely, already numb from the burning ants. She knew when it was that she went down; she knew she was dreaming about going down, feeling it and watching it, removed and there all at once. Someone's bare foot was on her calf and then her back, and she was being trampled. A crush of feet on her chest. She rolled over again and again, covering her head in her arms. She found her way to her elbows and raised herself up, grabbing with her strong left hand at legs that dragged me forward. Ants on her earlobes, deafening. On her tongue, silencing. Her eyelids, blinding. She tried to cry out--such a strange noise, as if it came up from her hair and fingernails, again and again, struggling to keep up. Once Adah looked for her mother again and saw her, far ahead. She followed; she tried, at least, bend on her own rhythm. Curved into the permanent song of her body: left....behind.
It was a familiar dream, and that's why, at first, Adah's panic was only that which she felt so viscerally. She'd had this dream before, knew how it ended. Someone would be by soon, whether it was actually Anatole who'd swept her up when this dream was reality, or the Eel, in spirit of the only person she'd ever felt she could trust. A familiar dream. They'd come...they'd come...they'd...
Fire continued to crawl up her skin, through her skin; she started to feel skin peeling off of bone, unable to cling for lack of surface area to cling with. Soon there'd be no skin, only muscle, only bone and sinew and then nothing, nothing. The pain was overwhelming. Adah cried out, only to discover her tongue had been taken by their ravenous hunger, taunting her with the fact that she never used it while she could, and now that she wanted to, it was gone. She whimpered only instead. Feet crashing on her skull, her fingers nothing but toiling, burning insects as she dug them into the ground. The river. She had to get to the river. The water was safe, the water...
...She found herself suddenly in the water. For a brief moment, the pain lifted, the ants gone, and, for a moment, she was suspended perfectly in a moment absolutely devoid of pain or suffering.
That moment lasted long enough for her to blink, and then the second reality sunk in. She couldn't swim; her limbs didn't have the capacity for it and even though she did not need balance here, her flailing and screaming was useless and only made her predicament worse. Water rushed in where fire once was; she couldn't breath, she couldn't control her limps, she was sinking, sinking, unbreathing, gasping only pain and never breath, and tears started in her eyes. She'd pass out if she didn't...
Suddenly, she was back in bed, in Africa, surrounded by mosquito netting instead of fake, painted jungle bloom. She was tugged from her bed, though, the moment she realized that she was in it, by something or someone, the ruckus, banging and shouting outside, her sisters leaping up screaming and were gone. Adah could not make a sound for the ants in her throat....