Cool Waters (Part 3)

‘The girl stayed by the cool waters all night. At daybreak, she hurried home, for she did not want anyone to panic on not finding her. She did not want them to know her secret. She pretended all was as usual. She pretended she was still bored but every thought in her head throughout the day focused on that beautiful sight. She wanted to be that woman. She was determined about it now. She wanted to call that woman her sister, her elder sister, to pretend they were born of the same womb, to pretend they were related. That would have made it so much easier to grow up to be like her. But she dared not call her that. She might upset her. She could not risk that.

‘The next night, she waited till all the world was in bed. She crept out of her home while the crickets prayed. She ran all the way to the cool waters, her instincts guiding her along the way, to the dream where the breeze was gentle and the sky silver. The woman would be there, with the dazzling eyes and the smile that never reached her eyes.

‘‘May I plait your hair?’ the girl would ask and the woman would smile politely, ‘Of course.’ The girl would need all the strength in her tender arms to gather that thick long hair. She would use all her ideas to make order in that mass of silk, but she would fail miserably. The hair was too heavy, too thick and too strong for her little arms. The woman would laugh pleasantly. ‘Let me show you how,’ she would say patiently, and with one movement of her long arms she would gather up all of the hair in her hands and twist it into a long snake like plait. ‘Fetch me some flowers’, she whispered to the girl who was more than excited to be of some use. The girl ran around looking for the prettiest, most delicate of flowers and brought them to the woman. The woman would put each flower to her nose before she decided if they were worthy of her hair. Many were rejected and put aside. Some were lucky enough to get wound into her dark hair. They glittered like the stars in a dark night sky. The best pick of them all was a full- blossomed rose, blood red and with a velvety texture. This the girl cradled in the palm of her hand with utmost care while she presented it to the woman. Surely she would receive a glance of admiration from the lady for having picked a flower as rare as that. But the lady picked up the flower with callousness, crumpled its petals and blew them into the cool waters. The little girl gasped in disappointment but the woman only laughed her eyes still on those red petals that floated on the water.