people on his island than
himself. At times he would stop talking mid-sentence and bite his lip. I felt
he was hiding things. It was normal for men to lie and say what they have to,
to keep you quiet. Even beat you when it’s necessary. And there was another
thing that I noticed. When he lit a fire it was almost as if he didn’t need a
flint, so quickly did the wood take to flame even when it was damp. It was like
magic.
Marek chased down a hare with such speed, it was hard to keep track of him through
the trees. A short time later, he reappeared quietly beside me holding the
bloodied carcass. I jumped with fright at his sudden appearance and he laughed,
but it was not like the mocking laughter of Jon and his brood of brats.
‘That’s
much better. For a moment I wondered whether you had any teeth.’ I felt stupid
then. How hideous I must have looked: a description often used by the
boys on the farm .
He
skinned the hare with his big hands and a short knife, and we roasted it with
sticks over the fire. It tasted good. The rich juicy meat dripped down my chin
and fingers. I was unsure why he was staring until he passed me a cloth to
clean my face.
The
next day we came to a stream. It had been a long time since I had bathed in
fresh water.
It
was a sunny day and Marek peeled off his clothes
until he was just in undergarments, and I looked in amazement at his chest and
strong arms. He reminded me of the men from the troupe and for the first time I
understood why my mother spent so much time with them. He entered the water and
rubbed at his body with soap, spreading foam over his muscled arms and torso.
His wet body glistened from the sun and his long thick hair clung to his back.
He called to me to share the soap, which he said was made from wood ash and
fat.
When
I started to walk in fully clothed he laughed.
‘Do
you not have any underclothes?’ I hesitantly peeled off the dress to reveal a
grey sheath beneath, which barely covered my knees, but Marek failed to notice. If he was one of Jon’s sons he would
have mocked my skinny body. Marek waded towards me in
the waist-deep water. He pushed me under the water and I panicked.
‘You’re
safe! It’s just shallow water.’
He
turned me around so my back was to him. I could hardly refuse. He was, after
all, my master. While he washed my hair I could see my reflection in the water
and for a moment I was looking at my mama, her hair and her chin. But I was not
my mother. I was not beautiful at all.
Marek’s hands were gentle as he massaged my scalp then combed through my long hair. I
felt tears prick at my eyes. This was the second time his hands had touched me
with tenderness. He dipped my head under the water playfully.
When
we left the water I noticed he was looking at me strangely. I followed his gaze
to my body where my wet undergarment clung, and I prayed that he was not
thinking of hurting me.
Marek
Until that moment I had regarded
Celeste as someone a lot younger than myself. But with her face clean and the
clinging fabric outlining her body, I could see how wrong I was.
I
only realised that I had been staring when she
covered herself with her hands, her cheeks reddening. What an idiot I was!
Sure, I had seen the girls from the island bathing, and yes, I admit to
thinking about them a lot when I lay down to sleep, and even admit to meeting
one or two of them on occasion at the beach. I was not completely without
knowledge of the female kind. I just wasn’t expecting to be this close to a
girl, sleeping beside her at night, bathing, eating. Celeste had been just a
child until that moment.
She
eyed me suspiciously and I made a feeble apology and explanation. She ignored
it and quickly dressed.
‘Can
you write?’ I asked her, to distract her from her embarrassment, and mine.
She
shook her head.
‘Is
there any way you can communicate?’
She
didn’t respond. Her face was stony and unresponsive.
‘I
can teach you your
himself. At times he would stop talking mid-sentence and bite his lip. I felt
he was hiding things. It was normal for men to lie and say what they have to,
to keep you quiet. Even beat you when it’s necessary. And there was another
thing that I noticed. When he lit a fire it was almost as if he didn’t need a
flint, so quickly did the wood take to flame even when it was damp. It was like
magic.
Marek chased down a hare with such speed, it was hard to keep track of him through
the trees. A short time later, he reappeared quietly beside me holding the
bloodied carcass. I jumped with fright at his sudden appearance and he laughed,
but it was not like the mocking laughter of Jon and his brood of brats.
‘That’s
much better. For a moment I wondered whether you had any teeth.’ I felt stupid
then. How hideous I must have looked: a description often used by the
boys on the farm .
He
skinned the hare with his big hands and a short knife, and we roasted it with
sticks over the fire. It tasted good. The rich juicy meat dripped down my chin
and fingers. I was unsure why he was staring until he passed me a cloth to
clean my face.
The
next day we came to a stream. It had been a long time since I had bathed in
fresh water.
It
was a sunny day and Marek peeled off his clothes
until he was just in undergarments, and I looked in amazement at his chest and
strong arms. He reminded me of the men from the troupe and for the first time I
understood why my mother spent so much time with them. He entered the water and
rubbed at his body with soap, spreading foam over his muscled arms and torso.
His wet body glistened from the sun and his long thick hair clung to his back.
He called to me to share the soap, which he said was made from wood ash and
fat.
When
I started to walk in fully clothed he laughed.
‘Do
you not have any underclothes?’ I hesitantly peeled off the dress to reveal a
grey sheath beneath, which barely covered my knees, but Marek failed to notice. If he was one of Jon’s sons he would
have mocked my skinny body. Marek waded towards me in
the waist-deep water. He pushed me under the water and I panicked.
‘You’re
safe! It’s just shallow water.’
He
turned me around so my back was to him. I could hardly refuse. He was, after
all, my master. While he washed my hair I could see my reflection in the water
and for a moment I was looking at my mama, her hair and her chin. But I was not
my mother. I was not beautiful at all.
Marek’s hands were gentle as he massaged my scalp then combed through my long hair. I
felt tears prick at my eyes. This was the second time his hands had touched me
with tenderness. He dipped my head under the water playfully.
When
we left the water I noticed he was looking at me strangely. I followed his gaze
to my body where my wet undergarment clung, and I prayed that he was not
thinking of hurting me.
Marek
Until that moment I had regarded
Celeste as someone a lot younger than myself. But with her face clean and the
clinging fabric outlining her body, I could see how wrong I was.
I
only realised that I had been staring when she
covered herself with her hands, her cheeks reddening. What an idiot I was!
Sure, I had seen the girls from the island bathing, and yes, I admit to
thinking about them a lot when I lay down to sleep, and even admit to meeting
one or two of them on occasion at the beach. I was not completely without
knowledge of the female kind. I just wasn’t expecting to be this close to a
girl, sleeping beside her at night, bathing, eating. Celeste had been just a
child until that moment.
She
eyed me suspiciously and I made a feeble apology and explanation. She ignored
it and quickly dressed.
‘Can
you write?’ I asked her, to distract her from her embarrassment, and mine.
She
shook her head.
‘Is
there any way you can communicate?’
She
didn’t respond. Her face was stony and unresponsive.
‘I
can teach you your
Similar Books
