In the Shadow of the Ark Read Online Free

for pearls or shells.
    We passed the pond where a number of women stood.
    “She is thirsty,” I said to my father, nodding toward my mother, but he kept walking and did not wait for us.
    The women made way for us. “Have your clothes been stolen?” they asked, exchanging rapid glances. They spoke in a strange accent. They used words of which we only recognized parts or which we hadn’t heard in a long time. “And what is the matter with her?” they asked. They turned their heads toward the dark, beautifully made-up woman on the stretcher, her hairdressed in waves, her toenails colored, flower designs on her shoulders and stomach. They looked as if they could not imagine ever being treated with so much respect. They asked one another the question we had heard so many times on the way: “Could she be a queen?”
    My mother looked up at them. I do not think she was disapproving of them. She was curious.
    “She is crippled,” I said.
    “Who beat her too hard?”
    “No one. It just happened.”
    “Why are you dragging her around? Is she looking for work?” The women burst out laughing. They all carried a jug. One of them poured water into a beaker. She was a stocky girl with broken teeth who stoppered her jugs with wads of grass. A piece of gauze covered the cup. Small stones, bits of twigs, and leaves were caught on the gauze. The stream of water made a gentle gurgling sound. But the water had a muddy smell. I did not have to look at my mother to know that her eyelid trembled like a butterfly’s wing.
    I went up to the girl and asked, “Can I have some water?” She picked up the beaker and handed it to me, but I thought she had not understood me and said, “I mean fresh water. Clean water, to drink.”
    She pointed at the jugs around her and said, “That is what we’ve got.”
    “But where is the source?” I insisted. “Where is the lake or the river the ship is going to sail on?”
    “There is no lake and there is no river.”
    “Then where is the well you are going to divert here? Where is the spring that will fill this basin with water to lift the ship?”
    The girl flushed. I could see she was taking offense at my nakedness, my insistence, my language. “I tell you, there isn’t one,” she snapped.
    My mother was blowing and puffing, bubbles appeared at the corner of her mouth. I knelt by her, wiping her mouth clean and said, “You are right. Here there is no water. We won’t need to move away from a tide line, for there isn’t one.” She blew more spit bubbles. She had no other way to express her triumph.

4
My Mother
    M y mother’s mother was called Enah. Enah was the daughter of Manilada, who lived for another forty-six years after she had her last child. Manilada was the daughter of Elokane, who only lived till the age of twenty-six. She died and was never forgotten. She was the image of her grandmother Kan, who bore nine sons and nine daughters. She had her last child when she was forty-five and lived for another thirty years after that.
    My mother was a fisherwoman, like her mother and grandmother. Her boat was named after the tern. She knew the marshes the way others know a field or a hill. All the time she went out with the fleet she was greatly respected. I can still remember the way she would walk to her boat. Her movements were fast and abrupt. She paid no attention to the way she moved until she was aware of someone looking at her. Then you could feel how she changed. When anyone at all, even a child, was watching her, she began to stride. She contained her strength. It took an effort: She was too impatient for elegance.
    One day she was standing in the water next to her boat. She was using a sieve to lift small fish, no bigger than a child’s hand, out of the water. Suddenly her knees gave way. She grasped the edge of the bow and pulled herself up. For a brief moment, shemanaged to keep herself upright on the narrow board, then she tumbled into the boat. All I could see was a