In her dream, he wore a priest’s garb and a hard topped hat, like the dervishes wore, with cloth hanging down on all sides. He chanted the perimeter of the house in an ancient tongue. She couldn’t tell what his intentions were….
I am so small in his shadow…just a child and he towers over me. His voice booms. Every footfall is an earthquake in the house. The walls shudder. The air cracks when he claps his hands. I wait for his absence. Why did ma marry him?
It wasn’t one miracle, but 20, performed every day by the newcomer, that stunned us. She confounded our simplest science in the time it took her to exhale. We had no words, no explanation and couldn’t even find a way to question what we’d seen.
They’d been without power for 5 days. Food was running out and the bath water they’d run, anticipating the storm, was only an inch high now. The scarcity showed in her cracked, dehydrated lips. “What next,” she thought?
She believed she could do it in half the time if he weren’t slowing her up. If he’d just fall asleep, she could ditch him. Did she care really, or was that just a noble idea she’d aspired to in theory? What to do now that it mattered?